Chapter 2 / Emergency!

“Those girls are up to no good.” Michael mom says. “You ain’t kidding.” Michael murmurs. “They always pick on people,” I say, “I don’t see why they do it in the first place.” I finish. “They do it because they’re jealous. They just feel bad about their own self.” Michael’s mom says. “Have you heard the saying: people who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones?” his mom asks. “No. No I haven’t.” I say full of thought. “Well, what does it mean to you?” she says. “It means that if you’re living in a glass house, and you throw stones, then you will knock one of your windows clean open!” I say. “That’s not thee right answer.” She says. “Then what is it Ms. Neil?” I ask thinking that I am right. “The saying means that if you don’t look that appealing, or if you live in a glass house, then you shouldn’t talk about other people, or you shouldn’t throw stones because it just makes you feel better. That isn’t right.” Ms. Neil says. “Oh! That makes perfect sense! I am going to remember that!” I say excitedly. People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones. The words run around in my head. I think about this for a moment. I am going to tell Charade when she picks on me tomorrow. Maybe not. “Now you know that I don’t want to go home Mike. Just one more hour, and I’ll be gone. Promise. I just don’t want to go home

right now.” I say. “But P, it’s getting dark out.” He says. “But I really don’t want to go to my cruel house. Just 30 more minutes, PLEASE!” I whine. “Okay. Fine, but after 30 minutes, you’re out of here. You know how my mom is.” He replies. “Well come on! Let’s go upstairs and play your wii game before time gets away from us!” I say headed up the stairs. When I reach the top of the upstairs hallway, I notice that Michael didn’t follow me. “Hey, Mike, Is anyone there?” I joke running down the stairs. To my surprise I find Michael lying on the floor gasping for breath. “Michael!” I scream as I kneel down over him. “In—in—inhaler!” he manages to get out. “Oh! Your inhaler!” I scream. I run upstairs to his mom’s room. “Ms. Neil! Michael’s having an asthma attack!” I say out of breath. “Oh my God! My baby!” she screams jumping out of her bed, and reaching for her cell phone. “911. What’s your emergency?” said the operator. “My son!” Ms. Neil screams. “Calm down honey, what about your son?” the operator says calmly. “My son is having an asthma attack! We need an ambulance! Our address is. 3227 Maple Dr.! Hurry up!” Ms. Neil says franticly. “Okay ma’am, help is on the way.” says the operator. Ms. Neil rushes down the stairs into the kitchen, and I follow. She looks into the drawer by the stove, and grabs the inhaler. Then she runs into the living room, and puts the inhaler into Michael’s mouth. “Ambulance! Did anyone call for an ambulance?” someone says. Ms. Neil rushes to the door

and opens it. There are the paramedics with a mini bed. They rush into the house and place Michael on the medical bed. Once we are in the truck, Michael looks at me. “You okay?” I say rubbing his hair. I notice that his hair has grown longer since three days ago. “Yeah, I think.” He replies. His voice kind of sketchy. “Hey baby, everything is gonna be just fine.” says Ms. Neil. She also rubs his hair. ~~~~~^^^****^^^~~~~~ When we get to the hospital, they rush Michael inside. Ms. Neil and I follow. “Um, ma’am, you can’t come in unless you are of the age of 14” says one of the doctors. “I am over the age of 14, I’m 15.” I say. “I’m his mother!” Ms. Neil replies. “Well…okay. Come in.” When I get into the room, the doctors are giving him shots. Michael has on an air mask. You know the one that is clear, and you put it on your mouth and nose? I figured you would know what I am talking about. Is it dangerous to have an asthma attack? Can it kill you? It probably can because it can be fatal. Although, I do have sympathy for Michael. I wonder what having an asthma attack feels like. Does it hurt your chest? “Is my baby okay doctor?” ms. Neil says in a worried voice. “He’s going to be okay. Just a little asthma attack. —just joking.” says the doctor. “We don’t have time to be joking around, and acting immature. We just have time to help my son!” Ms. Neil says sharply. “Okay, ma’am. Well first, your son needs a new inhaler. You might want to go to your best pediatrician to see what pharmacy to go to.

Secondly, your son is going to be fine, just relax.” The doctor says calmingly. “Is he well enough to go home?” Ms. Neil asks. “Yeah. Just make sure that you don’t keep your heat so high. You see, that was the problem, Michael couldn’t breathe with all that heat in the air.” The doctor says. “Oh. Thanks doctor. . . excuse me doctor, what’s your name?” ms. Neil asks curiously. “Oh! Doctor Earhart.” The doctor says surprised. I walk over to the medical bed Michaels lying on. “Are you okay mike?” I ask. “Yeah. I’m used to these old asthma attacks anyway. It’s just that this one caught me off-guard.” He replies. “Well don’t all of them catch you off-guard?” I ask. “Well yes—you just wouldn’t understand.” He says. “Well are you ready to go home? Your mom is worried.” I say. “Yeah. I’m just about ready to get out of this place anyway.” He replies. “doctor, is it okay if Michael goes home now? He says he’s okay.” I say. “Sure. If he’s okay, then he is good to go.” The doctor replies. I help Michael get off the medical bed. He smiles. “Thanks.” He smiles. His smile is so sincere. So trusting. So full of love. I give him a big, loving smile back. “No problem.” I say. I’ve known Michael for a long time, and I am now seeing myself to like him. I don’t want to like him though. I try to fight off the butterflies in my stomach, but love is something you just can’t fight off. I just want him to be a close friend. More like a brother. Somebody to be

there for me when I need a shoulder to lean on. And Michael has been there for me. When I was 12, he helped me recover from when I threatened to run away. At the time, I was very depressed. More depressed than I am now. I was tired of my mom locking herself in her room for days at a time. I was tired of being unloved. ~~~~~~~~~~~>>>>>>>>>>=====>>>>>>>>>>~~~~~~~~~~~

On the ride home, the car is silent. Ms. Neil’s eyes are focused on the road, and Michael is fast asleep. I stare out of the window, and look up at the sky. I wonder what my mom would’ve done if I had an asthma attack. What she would do if I were lying on the floor with my heart begging my lungs for another breath. She would probably just let me sit there and die. As I stare at the sky, I notice that there aren’t many stars in the sky. I love to look at the sky. It is very peaceful. I like to spot the big and little dipper. When I was young, and before my mom started those drugs, she used to tell me- “Don’t look at the sky too long, or you’ll get a sty!” and I didn’t want that to happen, because I didn’t even know what that meant. I look up at the front, and scam for a clock to see the time. Oh great, ms. Neil has one of those oldfashioned hoopties that doesn’t show the time. “Ms. Neil do you happen to have the time?” I ask “Oh sure. It’s

8:32,and don’t worry I am almost to your house.” Her eyes focused on the road.

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