Page 2 of Bread By the Grim
“Ghostlight Falls 911, what’s your emergency?” a female voice says as I look in vain for something to drape over Bernice.
“Hi, this is Grim at Grim’s Bakery. Our pastry chef, Bernice, fell and fractured her ankle. I need an ambulance right away.”
“Yes, sir, and can you tell me what species Bernice is?”
“Sasquatch.”
“Approximate height and weight?”
“Uh...” I look up at Bernice, who’s still staring at the ceiling. “Bernice, I have a rude question.”
She chuckles...which worries me even more. “What is it, kid?”
“They want to know how much you weigh.”
She begins to laugh and doesn’t stop. The sound of it echoes off the hard tile floor, an undercurrent of hysteria present in her voice.
I drop to a loud whisper in hopes that she won’t be able to hear me. “She’s laughing hysterically, but her foot is turned in a really horrible angle, can you hurry? I’m afraid she’s in shock.”
“Of course. Do you know her height and age? We can guesstimate for the fire department.”
I sigh as Bernice continues to laugh. “Eight feet and she’s a grandma. Bernice, how old are you?” I call out.
Bernice just continues to laugh.
“It’s okay, sir. We have someone on their way. Just keep her as still as possible.”
“Uh, sure.”
Keeping Bernice still isn’t going to be the problem. Getting her out to the ambulance will be. She’s wedged in pretty good between the wall and the counter.
The bakery is pretty basic. I’m not much for decorating. When people walk in, there are small tables scattered about and a cooler with sodas and those aguas frescas the moth-folk can’t seem to getenough of. I have a counter that splits the room in half. Most of it is glass so we can display the doughnuts, pastries, and lunch items we make throughout the day. But the base of the counter–a piece about two feet tall–is solid concrete topped with decorative wood.
I walk around the front and start taking the glass display case apart as Bernice continues to laugh. I don’t know how they’ll manage to get her out, but I can’t imagine broken glass will help. I’ve got most of the case taken apart by the time the engines from the local fire station roll up in front of the store.
The front door knob begins to rattle, and before I can unlock the door, three firefighters burst through like they’re raiding the place, their momentum bringing them incredibly close to the counter as they practically fall over each other. Two of the three are human. It’s not promising if we’re talking about the amount of brute strength we’ll need to get Bernice out, but maybe there’s more muscle waiting outside.
“We got a call about a fall?” says the third firefighter, a goat-man. He stands just a little taller than me.
“Yes, Bernice, she’s back here.” I show them Bernice, who’s stopped laughing but is still conscious.
“Ah, man, that’s a tight space,” says one of the humans.
“Yes,” I tell him impatiently. “That’s why Iremoved the glass case. If you have a large blanket or tarp, we can roll it under her and all lift her.”
The second human shakes his head. “Can’t move the injured person. We’ll need to get rid of the counter first.”
I sigh. “Getting rid of the counter would be helpful, but the wood you see is just decorative. The base is concrete. It would take a while?—”
“No, he’s right,” the goat-man says, cutting me off. "We can’t lift her."
I can hear the blood pounding in my ears. “I understand it’s not the safest thing to lift her, but she’s in shock and needs to get to a hospital as soon as possible.”
The goat-man eyes me. “Mr. Grim, let us do our job.”
I take a deep breath and hold my hands up. “Sure. I’ll just be back there with Bernice.”
I walk away, stepping behind the counter and carefully tiptoeing around her body until I’m close to Bernice’s head again.
