Life's Twisted Road : Life's Twisted Road - Chap 32 by Begin Again |
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END OF CHAPTER 31
Unable to catch herself, Isabella stumbled backward, falling and slamming her head against the large wooden dresser. She lay motionless on the bedroom floor. Natasha paced the floor, knocking her grandmother's treasures to the floor as she continued to berate her. "Don't you die, you ugly old bitch. You hear me? I'm not taking the blame for this. You're the one — always meddling in someone else's business." She pounded her fist against the wall, knocking one of the many family photos off its hook. It clattered to the floor, shattering the glass. "Great! Now I'll have to listen to you moan and groan about respecting our ancestors. When will you learn nobody cares? They're dead!" Bitterness dripped from her mouth, yet a lone tear glistened from the corner of her eye. She picked up one of Isabella's crocheted blankets and tossed it across her grandmother's legs. "Wake up, Grandma, please wake up!" ***** CHAPTER 32 The sharp ring of her cell interrupted the ongoing battle between Natasha and her silent grandmother. The teenager grabbed her "lifeline" and, seeing it was her friend, she answered, "Becky!" As Natasha stared at the poor woman lying on the cold floor, an icy shiver ran up and down her spine. "Something terrible happened." Gulping for air, she sputtered, "Grandma knows." She gulped again. "She threatened to tell —" Becky moved the phone from her ear. "Nat, stop your screeching!" Nat lowered her voice. "She was listening. She knows I lied." "You're all worked up over nothing, Nat. She'll calm down by morning. If not, she's an old lady. You've always talked your way out of things before. You know your mom will believe you." Natasha struggled to control her breathing. Between gulps, she whined, "You don't get it. She — she collapsed in her bedroom. She's not moving, Beck." Nat swallowed hard. "I called 911. They're on their way." As the seriousness of the situation settled in, Becky's voice cracked, "Oh my God! Is she — is she dead?" Nat stared at her grandmother's body, stammering, "I don't know." Across the room, Isabella's body lay motionless, yet her mind was moving like the five o'clock freight train that rumbled across the open field every night. Clickety click — Clickety click! Its destination unclear except to the engineer. She could hear her granddaughter's hysteria, but she felt disconnected from it. A sense of peace touched her body. She could see people standing in the distance, surrounded by a brilliant light, yet she heard loud voices calling and heavy footsteps pounding against wooden stairs. Everything was so out of focus. As she drifted into unconsciousness, her last thoughts were with the Lord. "Oh, Father in Heaven, is this how my journey ends?" ***** Becky grabbed her sweater and raced down the street to Isabella's house, arriving only moments before the wailing sirens and flashing lights. She yelled and waved as the men dismounted from the emergency vehicles. "Thank heavens!" "We're here to help. You need to calm down. What exactly happened?" "Isabella's 75 years old and she must have tripped and fallen. Her granddaughter found her on the floor. She's upstairs." "Okay, show us the way." ***** Becky raced up the stairs, followed by the fire department and EMTs. As she entered the upstairs bedroom, she rushed to Natasha's side, folding her into her arms. "It's okay, Nat. The EMTs are here now. I told them you found her lying on the floor." Total confusion registered in Natasha's bloodshot eyes as she stared at her friend. "But —" "Shh, we've got this." Natasha pulled herself to her feet and moved closer to the men, leaning against Becky. "She's not de—" Choking on the bile rising in her throat, Natasha turned her head away, finishing her question, "—dead, is she?" One of the EMTs offered the girls a sympathetic look. "It's a touch-and-go situation. She was lucky you found her when you did." The men placed Isabella on the stretcher and prepared to remove her from the bedroom. "We'll know more when we get her to the hospital." The accompanying police officer joined the girls. "I'll need to get your statements. Should we notify your parents for you?" "My parents?" Nat's eyes darted toward her friend. "Umm, my mom — Becky interrupted, "Her mom's already on her way. Natasha called her right after she called you." Officer Lakewood moved closer to the girls, allowing room for the stretcher to be removed from the room. "So, you've notified your mom already. That's good. Is she coming here or the hospital?" Nervous and uncertain what to reply, Nat stammered, "I'm — I'm not sure." Once again, Becky came to the rescue. "Nat was so upset she probably didn't even hear what her mom said. We can call her again if she doesn't arrive soon." Officer Lakewood pulled a small notebook from her jacket pocket and flipped it open. "Okay, Natasha, call your mom again and I'll get the details from your friend." The officer turned to face Becky. "Sorry, I don't think I caught your name." "It's Becky. Becky Caldwell. I'm Natasha's best friend. I live just down the street." Becky paused as if thinking about Isabella, then with a subdued tone she added, "I sure hope she makes it. I can't imagine what could have happened to her." "Sometimes these things just happen, especially when we get old. No rhyme or reason to it. Just the Lord calls us home." Becky told her story while Nat called her mom. Officer Lakewood jotted down notes about Becky's statement while attempting to tune into Natasha's call to her mother as well. She could only catch parts of it, but one never knew if a casual remark would suddenly become important. ***** A sleep-filled voice muttered, "This better be damn important, Nat. You know I have to get up early for work." "Mom, it's hor-r-i-ble! They've taken Grandma to the hospital." The once sleepy voice turned into a shrill scream, "What? Oh, my God. Nat, what happened? Is she okay?" "It's — it's bad. She was unconscious. I thought she was — dead." Nat paused before continuing, "She went to bed. Becky and I were outside, talking and goofing around. I — I went to check on her. She wasn't in her bed, then I saw her on the floor by the dresser." "Accidents happen. I've got to get to the hospital. Are you okay there by yourself, or do I need to pick you up?" "No, go to grandma." Natasha lowered her voice, whispering into the phone, "Mom, it's not my fault." "Your fault? Of course, it's not your fault. She's old and set in her ways. I've warned her about those rugs. She probably tripped over something. Nobody thinks it was your fault, sweetie." "I guess I was afraid someone might blame me since I was here." "You found her and hopefully, saved her life. No matter what happens, it's not your fault. Anyone who says it was, well, they can go to hell." "Thanks, Mom." The teenager sighed, relieved she'd locked her mother into her corner. "Love you." "I love you, too. Now, I've got to get to the hospital and see what's going on with your grandmother." Natasha disconnected the call. She stared out the window for a moment before whispering under her breath, "Stupid old lady should have minded her own business." *****
I will post the final chapter on Sunday. Thank you for reading and enjoying this story. I appreciate it very much.
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