Everything is screaming at me to run, run, call someone else, but there’s no one else here, just Raizy and me. Zeidy’s in shul, but shul’s 15 minutes away, and we can’t leave Bubby alone. And Raizy looks like she’s even more terrified than I am. So I swallow hard, reach for Bubby’s wrist, feel for a pulse. A pulse… beating… beating…

Oh, thank You thank You thank You, Hashem—

“Yeah, she’s… it’s okay,” I tell Raizy. Why is my voice shaking? Get a hold of yourself, Ashira. “I think she just… fainted or something. What do we do? Water? Get her to drink? I don’t know…”

Raizy’s dialing again.

“You calling Zeidy?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “Hatzalah. They’ll know what to do. And they come fast.”

Oh, good move. I have to hand it to her for thinking straight. My mind feels like it’s just frozen.

“Hello? Hello. I’m calling from… my grandmother’s house, she fainted—” Raizy’s babbling, her words are incoherent. That isn’t going to be of any use to the dispatcher. I take the phone and give them Bubby’s address and some details. “Yes, she’s breathing, and she has a pulse. She didn’t faint right away. Maybe three minutes ago?”

“I’m sending a paramedic, they should be by you with an ambulance in a few minutes,” the woman reassures me.

“Thanks,” Raizy says when I hang up, and she takes the phone again. “I’m calling my mother. She should come.”

I watch her with a sting of homesickness. If only I could call my mother now.

“Mommy? Mom? It’s Raizy. Bubby… something happened, she fell, we called Hatzalah, can you come over? She fainted….”

The doorbell rings. Three Hatzalah men have arrived, complete with medical equipment. Calmly, professionally, they assess the situation and begin checking Bubby’s vitals.

“Were you here when she fell? Can you tell me what happened?” one of the men asks me. “And you say she was talking to you at first? When did she lose consciousness?”

I answer their questions as best as I can, simultaneously trying to overhear Raizy’s conversation and wish that Aunt Chana or someone would just show up so I don’t have to deal with all this myself. This is just… too much for me.

Aunt Chana is panicking over the speakerphone. “But Raizy, I can’t come, I’m turning the car around right now but I’m 45 minutes away. Call Aunt Shevi—”

“We need to take your, grandmother, is it? To the hospital,” one of the Hatzalah guys says, looking at the two of us.

“Mommy! I can’t call anyone, they wanna take Bubby to the hospital.” Raizy’s voice is high-pitched and tense.

“Are you waiting for someone to arrive?” the Hatzalah guy asks me.

I shrug. “My grandfather’s in shul. His phone is off. And my aunt can’t come now. There’s another aunt, but—”

“Look, we have to get your grandmother to the hospital as soon as possible. Maybe you can tell your aunt on the phone to get hold of your grandfather, and that someone from the family should meet us in the emergency room,” he suggests.

I nod, the words swimming in my brain.

“Which hospital is it? I’ll be there as soon as I can. And I’m calling Shevi, maybe she or Menashe can go find Zeidy, he has to know. And someone should drive him to the hospital. He shouldn’t have to go alone.” Aunt Chana sounds almost as freaked out as we are; she’s talking fast and frenzied, unlike herself.

Bubby is on a stretcher, lying pale and unmoving. I can’t bear to look at her.

“Will anyone be accompanying us in the ambulance?” the Hatzalah guy asks, looking from me to Raizy. My cousin’s eyes are wide and panicked, and she’s clutching the phone like a lifeline. She looks so… young.

I really, really, really don’t want to do this.

But I’ve also grown up in India. Because I have parents who go out there to do what they feel is the right thing, no matter how hard it is. And they’ve always taught me to do the same.

I know what I have to do.

“I’ll come along,” I say. How can I leave Bubby alone? What if she wakes up on the way, finding herself in an ambulance with paramedics and no family members or anyone she knows?

Raizy looks at me with something like awe in her eyes. I’m too worried about Bubby to care. I’m also feeling queasy.

Just hold it together, I tell myself. The last thing we need here is for you to faint, as well.

The ambulance is… very ambulancey. So much medical equipment, canvas bags, and metal closet doors built into the walls of the vehicle. Bubby is very still. And suddenly, I crumble inside. So much for stepping up and doing the right thing. I just can’t do it. I’m too scared.

Raizy’s followed us outside. Aunt Chana hung up the phone, promising to call everyone in the family and make sure someone gets hold of Zeidy and meets us at the hospital. My cousin looks at the ambulance, looks at me, and just before they close the doors, she puts out her hand.

“Wait,” she says, jerkily. “I — I’m coming, too.”

She climbs in, the doors slam shut, and the ambulance lurches forward. The sound of sirens fills the air around us.

I reach out and touch Raizy’s hand. Her fingers close around mine.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

To be continued…

(Originally featured in Mishpacha Jr., Issue 957)