Part 2 (1/2)
Two sets of hands reach for Devon's waistband.
”No! Please!” Devon is breathing hard and fast. ”I don't want-”
”I'm just going to take a little peek to see what's going on-”
”No!” Devon pushes herself up on her elbows, pulling her legs in protectively. ”Don't touch me. . . . Don't . . . ”
”We're not going to hurt you, Devon,” Dr. Klein says, sliding around the gurney to Devon's right side. ”We just need to look-”
”No! You can't . . . you can't make me do this. . . .”
Dr. Klein leans closer. ”Listen to me, Devon. You are in an examination room at Tacoma General Hospital's ER. You were brought here in an ambulance. I am Dr. Laura Klein, the physician on duty. I don't care about why you're here. I don't care about what part you may or may not have played in being here. That's history. It's done, it's over, and no one can change it. All I care about is your health. And you're in very dangerous shape right now, in danger of possibly bleeding to death. Do you hear what I'm telling you?”
Cheryl steps closer to Devon, rubs her back softly.
Dr. Klein adjusts her gla.s.ses. ”And I'll be d.a.m.ned before I'm going to have some foolish girl die under my care. I want to be able to go home tonight and crawl under my blankies and sleep well. So, don't make this harder on yourself-or me-than it needs to be.”
Devon hugs her legs to her chest, her arms shaking. She can feel the needle from the IV tugging at her wrist. ”You can't make me do this,” Devon whispers.
”Now, I want you to lie back down,” Dr. Klein says, ignoring Devon's protest, ”and Cheryl and I are going to remove your pants-”
Cheryl gently unwraps Devon's arms from around her legs and slowly pushes her down onto her back. Dr. Klein steps forward, reaches for the waistband of Devon's sweats.
”No . . . doctor . . . ” Devon pleads. ”I want to go home.” Devon reaches down and clutches the elastic waistband with her fingers.
”Don't do this,” Dr. Klein says. ”Don't make this ugly.”
Cheryl plucks Devon's fingers from the waistband. At the same time, Dr. Klein tugs the sweatpants down over Devon's thighs, off her legs.
”Okay, I'm going to remove your underpants now.” Dr. Klein nods at Cheryl. ”I'll have to cut them off.”
Cheryl hands Dr. Klein a small pair of scissors, and Devon hears two quick snips. Devon squeezes her eyes shut as the doctor pulls away the soaked fabric and carefully pushes Devon's knees apart, spreading her thighs.
Devon is too weak-too sore-down there to resist much. She turns her face into her shoulder, whimpering softly.
”You're doing fine,” Dr. Klein says, lowering herself to the stool at the foot of the gurney again. ”Now I'm just going to take a quick look.”
Dr. Klein's rubbered fingers gently probe toward Devon's private place, spread its skin apart.
Devon bites her lip.
”Oh,” Dr. Klein says suddenly. ”The umbilical cord. It's still here, Cheryl.” She takes a deep breath. ”She's shoved it up inside herself.”
”So, the placenta hasn't been delivered,” Cheryl states matter-of-factly.
Devon raises her head, her heart pounding. What? She looks between Cheryl and Dr. Klein. They are staring at each other, both thinking hard.
What! What do they see?
”We've got to get her to the Birthing Center's OR immediately,” Dr. Klein tells Cheryl, her voice tense.
”Yes,” Cheryl agrees.
Birth Center? Oh, G.o.d! No!
”Devon”-Dr. Klein is standing now, leaning forward-”we're going to move you-”
Devon shakes her head. ”No.”
”You have something inside of you that we have to remove or you could die-”
”No!” Devon screams, pulling her naked legs toward herself.
”Devon! We know you've just delivered a baby-”
”NO!”
And with her thighs, Devon thrusts up and out.
Devon's right knee connects solidly with Dr. Klein's face.
The black rectangular gla.s.ses clatter to the floor.
chapter three.
Two police officers lock Devon in the back of a squad car that smells of sweat and filth and stale cigarette smoke.
But first they handcuffed her. They walked into the hospital room where she'd lived for the past three days, sitting under the sheets with the two white pillows supporting her back. Devon noticed how they wouldn't look directly into her eyes when they told her to stand, cuffing her right there beside the bed. Matt Lauer was left giggling with some sitcom star on the TV in the corner of the room when they escorted Devon down the quiet hallway with all the nurses watching.
The squad car drives the two blocks up Martin Luther King Way and turns left. Devon knows the street; during the off-season she'd sometimes jog this very route coming out of Wright Park. From her seat, she can hear the dispatcher over the police radio, a sudden static spurt before the voice. The two police officers sit up front, sipping coffee from Styrofoam cups.
Devon looks out the window. The sky is a flat, brooding gray. Familiar buildings pa.s.s. Farley's Florist. The Dollar Store. The Salvation Army Thrift Store. Sunriser Restaurant. Jason Lee Middle School, newly remodeled and pretty now. The sight always surprises Devon, even though it's been a long time since it's changed.
A sign outside a church proclaims: LOVE.
IS G.o.d'S WILL IN ACTION.
Love. Devon feels empty and numb and a little sorry for herself. She looks down at her hands, cuffed together on her lap, and waits for the ride to be over.
The squad car stops at red lights and crosses intersections, then turns right, up a short hill that leads to the juvenile detention center at Remann Hall-a complex of squat white buildings not far, Devon realizes, from the Morgan Family YMCA, where she had learned to swim when she was four. Unlike today, her mom had been with her then. Standing there in the waist-deep water, making sure that Devon wouldn't sink when the teacher wanted her to float. Singing along with Devon and the cla.s.s the ”I'm a Little Teapot Short and Stout” song that ended every lesson.
The squad car stops in a parking s.p.a.ce. The police officer who'd been riding shotgun heads for the nearest building. The one behind the wheel cuts the ignition, then moves around the car to open Devon's door for her. Devon stares at him standing there, remembering the only other guy who had ever opened a car door for her.
Last summer. The sky was bright blue mirroring the water, the sun warm. A perfect day. He had smiled down at her; he'd had That Look in his eyes-warm and eager and a little bit vulnerable. When he'd look at her in that way, and smile that tilted smile, her body would tingle with an electric tension that robbed her breath away.
That was then. And now?