Page 93 of The Women of Oak Ridge
I turned to see what Aunt Mae thought about the fascinating story.
“Aunt Mae, have you ever...?” My voice trailed. Something was wrong. Her face had gone pale, eyes glazed over. Her body shook. “Aunt Mae?”
Dad and I rose simultaneously.
“Mae?” Dad knelt in front of her. “Can you hear me, Mae?”
“I didn’t want to do it,” she whispered, panic in the words. “He made me. He was going to hurt Harry and Mama and Pa, just like he hurt Sissy. I couldn’t let him do it. I couldn’t let him.” She began to sob uncontrollably.
Dad gathered her into his arms. She clung to him, desperation in her tight grip.
“I’ll get some water.” I ran to the kitchen and filled a glass. I also grabbed a dish towel, wet the edge, and hurried back to the living room.
Dad gently pulled out of Aunt Mae’s frantic clutches. I handed him the glass.
“Have a sip of water, Mae,” he said, his voice full of worry. “You need to calm down and tell me what’s happening.” He tipped the glass to her lips, but she pushed it away, sloshing it onto her lap.
“You don’t understand.” Fear flooded her eyes as her gaze darted around the room. “He knows. He knows where I live. Where Harry lives. The girls. He’ll hurt them if I ever tell anyone. Oh, Sissy, Sissy. I don’t know what to do.” She covered her face with her hands and sobbed. “I don’t know what to do.”
Dad stood and motioned me into the hallway. “I think we should get her back to the hospital. It was a mistake to bring her home so soon.”
“I’ll call the emergency number,” I said and hurried into the kitchen to use the telephone. When I returned to the living room, Dad was crouched beside Aunt Mae, holding her hand while she muttered unintelligibly.
The sound of a siren soon echoed in the warm evening air. I opened the door as it came closer. Not only did an ambulance arrive within the next minute, but a police cruiser too. Jonas climbed out and strode to where I stood on the porch.
“I was on patrol and heard the call,” he said, concern in his eyes.
My voice trembled as I quickly told him what had happened. We followed the ambulance attendants into the house where they gathered around Aunt Mae, blocking our view of her.
“Ms. Willett, do you know where you are?” one of the men asked. Aunt Mae mumbled something that sounded likehome. The attendant asked more questions, then turned to Dad to get the full story on the situation.
When one of the men stepped to the side, Aunt Mae’s gaze landed on Jonas.
Her eyes grew wild, and she let out a piercing scream. “Don’t arrest me. Don’t arrest me. He made me do it. I didn’t want to take the papers. I didn’t want to, but I had to protect my family. I couldn’t let him hurt them. I couldn’t.”
She grew more hysterical, fighting the ambulance attendants. Dad tried to calm her, but it was as though she didn’t hear him. As though her mind had carried her away to another time and place. A place where she lived in fear.
It was excruciating to watch. Tears rolled down my face. Jonas put his arm around me and pulled me against his side.
With Dad’s permission, the men sedated Aunt Mae. In a matter of seconds, she grew quiet. While one of the men took her pulse, the other motioned us outside to talk. When we gained theporch, I noticed Georgeanne stood beside her mailbox with several people. I’m sure Aunt Mae and the ambulance were the talk of the neighborhood.
“I believe your sister suffered a panic attack,” the man said. “Her blood pressure is elevated, but it isn’t alarming. I don’t see signs of stroke or any other serious condition that would warrant hospitalization. However, we can transport her to the emergency room for observation, if that’s your wish.”
Dad’s face bore his concern. “I don’t really know what to do. She seemed fine this morning when the doctor released her.”
“She may have more episodes of panic and confusion while her brain heals from the concussion,” the attendant explained, “but unless she’s in danger of hurting herself physically, I don’t believe it’s necessary to hospitalize her. Her doctor can prescribe a mild sedative you can administer at home, but it’s your decision, sir.”
Dad’s worried gaze met mine. “What do you think, Laurel? Can we handle things here?”
I bit my lip. “I’d hate for her to have to go back to the hospital.”
“I feel the same.” He returned his attention to the ambulance attendant. “I guess we’ll see how things go here. I’ll contact the doctor and let him know what’s happened. We appreciate you fellows coming out.”
The men helped us get Aunt Mae into her bed, then packed up their equipment and left. Dad, Jonas, and I moved into the kitchen. I set about making a pot of coffee. We needed something stronger than lemonade.
“I wish I knew what upset her.” Dad dropped onto a chair. “We were watching television one minute, then she was out of control.”
“Laurel, didn’t you say Walter Cronkite was talking about the woman who was a Russian spy when Mae became agitated?” Jonas asked.
