Page 44 of Dear Henry, Love Edith
“Hey, everybody! Get over here if you want to see Edith show us how to save a life!”
“Oh, is it starting already?” A group of women nearby started clucking and shooing each other over to Edith’s medical tent. “I didn’t think that was until later this afternoon.”
“It’s not until later this afternoon,” Edith said, but a sharp whistle pierced through her words. Julie again. She kept whistling and shouting while Edith kept saying, “You guys, this isn’t pretend. It’s real. We need to call 911.”
“Don’t start yet,” Julie scolded. “A few more are still coming. Hustle up, boys. Hustle up.”
“This is whathustling uplooks like when you’re ancient, don’t you know.” A group of men from the car show made it to the gathering crowd circled around Steve’s body. “Well, hey, look who it is,” the shorter of the men said, elbowing a tall, slender man next to him. “Edith’s brother.”
“That’s your brother?” Julie said to Edith, then looked atthe women around her. “I didn’t know that. Did you know that?”
“No. Listen. He’s not my brother.”
“Of course he’s not her brother,” the tall, slender man said with a wink. “Now let her stay in character so she can continue the performance.”
“This isn’t a performance,” Edith said.
“Sorry. I meant the demonstration.” The tall man nudged the squat man next to him. “She’s really getting into this, isn’t she?”
Steve moaned and everybody started shushing each other. “Ooh, quiet. Shh-shh. It’s starting.”
“What’s starting?” Henry appeared, slightly winded, at the edge of the crowd. He was holding a paint bucket and paintbrush, and the front of his pants was covered in white paint. He dropped the bucket when he noticed Steve on the ground. “Is he okay?”
“No,” Edith said. Finally. Someone who would listen to her. “Will you please call 911?”
Henry pulled out his phone.
“I didn’t know this was audience participation,” a voice murmured.
“How fun,” a woman responded. “Kind of like that murder dinner theater last spring. Remember that? I solved the case. Remember that?”
Steve’s eyes fluttered and another moan slid out of him. “It’s okay, Steve,” Edith told him. She ripped open a gauze bandage from the first aid kit and pressed it to his head. He groaned.
“Do we need to shock his heart?” the tall, slender man asked. “I had that done to me once. Whoa, Nelly, felt justlike getting kicked in the chest by a horse. And I would know. Had that done to me once too.”
“You sure that horse kicked you in the chest and not the head?”
Some people laughed. Julie flapped her hands at them to be quiet. “You’re going to distract Henry from his lines.”
Henry ignored them, giving the location to the 911 dispatcher. “Downtown. Corner of First and Main. Yeah, he’s breathing. He’s moving. Looks like he might be starting to come around now.”
Oh, he was coming around, all right. Edith struggled to hold him in place. If he tried to stand, he would most likely pass out again. “Nice and easy, Steve. Take a moment to get your bearings.”
He sat up, pushing Edith away from him.
“Did I miss the part where she performed CPR?” a woman asked.
“Steve. Listen to me—”
“Ambulance is on the way,” Henry said, crouching awkwardly next to Edith with his bad leg stretched to the side. He grabbed Steve by the shoulders. “Take it easy, pal.”
Steve’s eyes locked on Henry’s. “You.” He growled and started struggling against him. “You can’t have her.”
“What did he say?” an old man asked.
“He said, ‘You can’t have her,’” the tall man said, imitating Steve’s growl.
“Can’t have who?”
