From Ashes
Page 107

 Molly McAdams

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“Hang on, darlin’, I’ll get him.” I jogged into the closet, grabbed the first shoe I found, and went back to smash the shit out of that ugly thing. “That isn’t the first one you’ve ever seen, is it?”
She didn’t answer and I decided it probably was and felt like an ass for laughing. I’d grown up in the country, where scorpions were a common thing; she’d grown up in a country club neighborhood in a rich city in California. I’m sure she’d never once had to worry about these things.
When I had it cleaned up and thrown away and the shoe wiped off, I looked up and noticed she was still violently shaking; her cheeks were wet, eyes were huge, and lips were chalky white and trembling. She didn’t look like she had earlier from being sick; she looked freakin’ terrified. God, I was such a dick. I lowered my voice and spoke in a soothing tone. “Cass, it’s okay, he’s gone. Come on, let me take you to bed.”
Her head started shaking quickly back and forth when I got to the edge of the tub, and she was still staring at where the scorpion had been.
“Cassidy, it’s okay. You need to calm down or you’re gonna force yourself to go into shock. Breathe, babe.” When she didn’t make any move I exhaled loudly and put my arms under hers; it was when I started to lift and her hands slipped from the side of her calf that I saw the trickle of blood coming from a small red circle. “What the hell? Shit, Cass, were you stung?!”
She nodded slightly and a soft sob followed by a huge breath in snapped her back to the present. “Gage! It was on me! I had no idea—I was just lying there and I felt something. I tried to get it off and it was still there!” Another huge breath in. “I looked down and I didn’t realize what it was at first, and then its tail, oh my God, its tail did that thing where it, where it, you know . . .” She tried to show me with her hands.
It was so damn cute, but she was freakin’ out and had just been stung. I knew from experience that it hurt like a bitch, and the one that got her wasn’t little either, so I kept my mouth shut as I carried her over to the counter where our sinks were and turned the water on, waiting for it to warm.
“A-a-and I just freaked! I tried to sit up and scramble away and it stung me before I could get it off. I’ve never even seen one before! Why was it here? They aren’t supposed to be in Texas, are they?!” She took another shuddering breath in, and before she could continue her chest started heaving up and down quickly.
“Breathe, Cass, deep breath in and hold it, then blow it out. Darlin’, you’ve got to calm down, now, you’re gonna hyperventilate. Come on, Cass, deep breath in.” I gripped her shoulders and tried to force her to breathe with me for the next couple minutes until she was breathing normal and her head was slumped onto my chest. “Good girl. All right, let’s get this washed off, I’ll get you some ice, and we’ll go back to bed; sound good?”
She whimpered some kind of agreement and clutched her stomach.
God, I’d forgotten she was sick too. This was just not her day.
After we washed where she was stung, I laid her down in bed and propped her leg up on a couple pillows before getting some ice wrapped in a towel. I held the towel against her calf and rubbed her back until she was sound asleep, then curled around her tiny body, and before my head hit the pillow I was out.
NO WAY IT’S time to get up yet. I would put money down that I just went to sleep. My eyes opened and I realized my alarm wasn’t going off, and it wasn’t even predawn outside, it was pitch-black. I heard Cassidy getting sick in the bathroom and realized that must’ve been what woke me up. Turning slightly, I checked the clock and saw we’d only gotten back in bed about an hour ago. I wished there was something, anything, I could do for her. I felt so helpless, and I hated it. I’d just swung my legs off the bed when a loud smack came from the bathroom and for the second time tonight I shot off toward it, this time to find my wife sprawled out on the floor, eyes rolled to the back of her head and barely breathing. As soon as I finished checking her, I was at my nightstand grabbing the phone, dialing and running back to her side, sliding up to her on my knees.
“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”
“M-my wife collapsed, she’s—I don’t know, she’s barely breathing and she’s not waking up.” The hand that wasn’t holding the phone was going everywhere: her eyelids, her mouth, her neck, her chest, her wrist. Anywhere to get a response or to feel her breaths or pulse. “Cass, baby, wake up, please wake up!”
After telling the woman on the other line where we were, she asked, “Sir, can you tell me what happened prior to you finding your wife in this condition? Had she been drinking or—”
I didn’t even let her finish. “No, no, she’s been sick all day with the flu and then an hour ago she was stung by a scorpion. I cleaned it and everything and we went back to bed. I woke up and she was throwing up, then I heard her hit the floor.” My whole body was shaking and I kept begging Cassidy to wake up. The fact that her pulse was so faint I had to struggle to feel it was scaring me worse than anything had in my entire life.
“You said she was stung by a scorpion?”
“Yeah, about an hour ago. But everyone in my family, including me, has been stung at least once before. I washed it, put ice on it, and elevated it.”
“Has your wife ever been stung before, sir?”
“Cassidy, please wake up! What? Um . . . no, no, she’s never seen one before tonight.”