Bridge to a Distant Star - Carolyn Williford [119]
The dispatcher asked to speak with Beth, but when Michal beckoned for Beth to get on the phone, she shook her head, vehemently whispering, “Tell them I’m holding the baby. I can’t just put her down.”
Michal was relieved to finally hear sirens and—in a near panic at that point—said she had to hang up. That if she didn’t call her resident advisor immediately she’d probably be in a lot of trouble.
“Okay, Michal. That’s fine. I just needed to make sure we had the right address. Can you see the lights from the ambulance now?”
“Yeah. They’re right here—just outside the main entrance.”
“Great. Call your dorm advisor. And thank you, Michal.”
“Thank you.” Michal punched in the RA’s number. She picked up on the first ring, alarm apparent in her voice. “Yes?”
“Miss Hamilton, I’m sorry to bother you, but—”
“What’s happened? Is someone hurt?” Her questions came out in a rush, and Michal could hear her climbing out of bed. “Who is this?”
“Michal McHenry. And no, no one’s hurt. But my roommate, Beth, found a newborn baby. Outside our window.” By then, many of Beth’s suitemates were awake. Alarmed by the sirens and lights, they began peppering Michal with questions too. Michal tried to wave them off while continuing to explain to Miss Hamilton. “No, Beth’s okay. I’m sorry, Miss Hamilton, for not calling sooner—”
“Michal, what’s going on?”
“You’d better just come to our suite. I’ve got to go let the paramedics in.”
Michal hung up, frantically motioned Samantha and Jenny toward her room. “Go see Beth. Ask her. I’ve got to go open the outside door.”
By the time she got back—followed by a burly man and an efficient-looking woman carrying various items of equipment, including a stretcher—Beth was sitting calmly on a chair in the lounge. Surrounded like a Madonna by Jenny, Samantha, Jessica, and Ruth. All were oohing and aahing at the bundle Beth still held clutched against her chest.
“Ladies, would you mind stepping back, please?” the woman asked. “My name’s Sharon. This is my partner, Will.” The girls moved away from the baby—hovering in the lounge so they could continue to observe the developing drama—but Beth didn’t even bother looking up, she was so enraptured by the tiny life she held.
“Beth? Is that your name?”
She nodded, barely acknowledging Will’s question.
“We need to take the baby in a minute here, Beth. Need to check her out.”
No response from Beth this time. Michal noticed Beth had wrapped the baby in her ragged quilt. It was far too big and hung down onto the floor, bunching at Beth’s feet.
They continued to pull out equipment. Graciously giving Beth a few moments to collect herself, Michal assumed. It was apparent—as the paramedics shot each other concerned looks—they didn’t want a tug-of-war over their miniature patient.
Michal was about to ask why they’d brought in such a big stretcher when Sharon soothingly asked, “Beth? Will you hand me the baby now, please?”
Beth looked up at the paramedic, but her gaze was unfocused. Confused. “What?”
Sharon held out her arms, palms extended. “Please give me the baby, Beth. We need to examine her, okay?”
Finally Beth appeared to understand. Gently placed the bundle into Sharon’s waiting arms. Separating the tiny body from the giant bunting, Sharon lifted the naked baby from the quilt and placed her on the stretcher. Which immediately brought forth a loud, angry cry from the little one.
Beth’s arms jerked toward her reflexively, while Sharon’s arm shot out in reaction to Beth, blocking her from touching the baby—both actions occurring as though rehearsed. Will and Sharon exchanged another quick look.
The team worked in tandem, quickly taking vitals. Speaking quietly, efficiently moving from one task to the other. All while the baby continued to cry, kicking its legs in protest. Waving its arms around as though attempting to push away the offending instruments.
“Is she going to be all right?” from Miss Hamilton, whom Michal was surprised to hear. She hadn’t noticed she’d joined them in the lounge, already crowded with too many. “I