The Last Hour (Thompson Sisters) by Sheehan-Miles, Charles (reading well .txt) 📕

seventeen, getting ready to start my senior year in high school, which made me sometimes the protector of my little sisters ... and sometimes the ringleader. That day I wanted to get away from the constant hammering and nailing and banging, so I took Alexandra and the twins for a drive to the children’s playground in Golden Gate Park. It was August, but fairly cool, and the fog had been heavy earlier that morning, so we were all bundled up in sweaters. The twins had cute matching plum jackets. Back then they were inseparable, holding hands everywhere they went.

I parked next to Bowling Green Drive, and we spent the next hour goofing off in the park, riding the carousel, and enjoying a well-deserved ice-cream. It happened on the way back to the car. Sarah tripped and fell, hands out in front of her. On a broken bottle.

She let out a piercing scream, and I ran back to her, putting my arms around her and lifting her up, then I winced. A nasty, curved shard of glass had embedded itself in her right palm. Her face had gone paler than usual, her pale blue eyes wide, staring at her hand. She calmed down instantly, just looking at it.

I met her eyes. “You’ll be fine, bee.”

Sarah held her hand close to her eyes, studying it. “Carrie, can you get it out?”

“No problem. It’s gonna bleed, all right? Probably a lot. You ready?”

She nodded. I held her hand in my right hand, and then reached out with my left hand. Standing a couple feet away, Alexandra held Jessica’s hand. Jessica was pale, her eyes were wet, and she was shaking. Almost as if she were the one feeling the pain.

I looked back at Sarah and said, “Ok, close your eyes?”

She shook her head. “Wanna watch.”

“All right, then.” So, without hesitation, I grasped the chunk of glass in my left hand and tugged. Jessica winced. It came out clean, and blood, a great deal of blood, welled up in her palm.

“That’s done then. Let’s get you home, all right? You’re going to need a jumbo Band-Aid for that.”

“And peroxide?” she asked, hopefully.

“Yes, peroxide too.”

“Ow,” Jessica said.

Sarah turned to her sister and said, “It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt.”

I reached in my purse and found some napkins left over from lunch and passed them to her. “Keep these pressed against the cut.”

She nodded, took the wad of napkins in her hand and squeezed her fist shut with the napkins pressed against the cut. Then she reached out with her unhurt hand and took Jessica’s. Jessica immediately calmed down.

I ended up with a nasty tongue lashing from my mom, but managed to keep Alexandra and the twins from getting it too. I was irresponsible, I put my sisters in a dangerous situation, I couldn’t be trusted. I’d heard it all before, and I let it roll off my back, knowing that the most important thing was keeping her from going after my sisters.

That wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last, when it seemed almost as if Jessica was the one hurt whenever something happened to Sarah. Which had me worried now. Because I didn’t know how she was going to react to Sarah going into surgery. Or ... no. The thought was unspeakable. I wasn’t going to lose anyone today. Ray and Sarah were going to go into surgery, and they were going to come out just fine.

By the time I got her to the exam room, she was shaking and pale. She sat down on the edge of the bed. I looked her in the eyes and put my hands on her shoulders.

 “Sarah’s going to be fine, Jessica. Okay? She’s going to be fine. Just breathe. All right?”

She closed her eyes and seemed to calm a little.

The nurse smiled at me and said, “Mrs. Sherman? If you can come next door, the doctor will be in to examine both of you in just a few moments.”

 “Jessica? I’ll be next door, just let me know if you need anything, okay? Sarah will be all right.”

I said it with some confidence. As if I knew she was going to be all right. That Ray would be all right. That anything in the world would be all right. I didn’t have that confidence. I might say it, I might look Jessica dead in the eye and tell her not to worry, but the fact was, I was consumed with worry.

I followed the nurse into the small exam room.

“Have a seat, it shouldn’t be more than a few minutes.”

And so I waited. And worried more. Somewhere not far away, Sarah and Ray were both going into emergency surgery. I should be up there, not sitting on this exam bed, twiddling my thumbs. I’ve never been someone to sit and do nothing. I’ve always needed to be doing something, reading, studying, writing, some activity, anything. And now, when someone needed help? Not being able to do anything was making me crazy.

I jerked in my seat when the door opened. A young doctor came in carrying a chart. “Carrie? I’m Doctor Chavez. How are we doing?”

I grimaced. “As well as can be expected. I just need to get over to the surgery waiting area.”

He nodded. “Your husband and sister are in good hands, Carrie. In the meantime, we need to make sure you’re in good shape? This won’t take long.”

I nodded. “All right.”

He rolled a tall stool over and sat on it, then leaned close. “Let me get a look at your head.” He reached out and positioned my head.

“Looks like you’re going to have a nasty knot there. You hit it on the glass?”

“Yes. Not that bad.”

“Lose consciousness at all?”

I swallowed. Then told a direct lie. “No. I was a little dazed.”

“You’re certain?”

“Yes.”

He continued with the exam, listening to my chest, checking for bruises. I had plenty. “Any headaches? Nausea?”

“A little.” In fact, my headache was nearly blinding.

“Any pain when you move your head or neck?” He reached