Mr. Terupt Falls Again

by Rob Buyea

  “Do you want to go on the Salt and Pepper Shaker one last time?”

  “I don’t care,” she said.

  “Do you want to go on the Superslide one last time?”

  “I don’t care.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  Obviously something was wrong. Maybe it’s her period again, I thought. The rides were about to shut down anyway, so I told myself, There’s always tomorrow night. I finally asked Danielle if she wanted to go home. She didn’t say “I don’t care” this time. She said, “Okay.”

  We started looking for Mom and Charlie and found a ring of people instead. There was something going on in the middle that I couldn’t see.

  I still hadn’t told anyone at home that I knew about the Native Americans wanting our land. I looked through the newspapers every day, and even watched the news when I could, but I hadn’t heard or seen anything more about it. I hoped the whole thing was going away, but how wrong I was. Anna and I were under one of the food tents when I heard some of the other farmers talking.

  “It’s only a matter of time ’fore they’re out there walkin’ ’cross our fields,” one of the men said.

  “They’ll be lucky if I don’t fire my twelve-gauge at ’em if I see ’em on my land,” said another one.

  “Take it easy, Earl. We don’t need another war,” said a third man. “Let the courts handle it. It’ll work out.”

  “What’s the matter, Danielle?” Anna asked.

  “Nothing,” I said. “You finished? Let’s go.”

  We got up and threw our plates in the trash. This land treaty thing was still a big problem, and that meant a big worry for my family. I tried to forget about it, but I couldn’t. I kept thinking about what the farmers had said. Believe it or not, I just wanted to go home, and it wasn’t because of my period. Anna knew it too.

  We started looking for Charlie and Terri, but we found a commotion of people instead. I had no idea what the fuss was about.

  After the confrontation with Lexie’s old friends, our group scattered in different directions. I wasn’t sure where everyone went, but Jeffrey and Jessica and I headed back to the rides. Jessica was right—this was the best part of the carnival.

  It didn’t take long for us to make our way to the Torpedo again. This was going to be our fifth time on the roller coaster. What better way to end the night but on the main attraction?

  As we waited in line, we watched people who were finishing their ride screaming away. That’s why I saw Mr. Terupt and Ms. Newberry get off the roller coaster as we were getting on. And I saw something else that I had missed before—the warning sign. I hadn’t seen it until now because the dumb thing was leaning almost all the way to the ground. The paint was chipping off it and you could barely make out the words, but I was able to read the important parts.

  NOT Ride If You:

  • Have a significant physical ailment or condition

  • Have a bad neck or back problems

  • Have high blood pressure, heart trouble, or a nervous disorder …

  A nervous disorder. That was the part that scared me. Your brain is part of your central nervous system. Why was Mr. Terupt riding the Torpedo? He was at risk. Then it hit me. Why had Mr. Terupt’s dizzy spells and stuttering stopped? Was it because he was all better or because he had stopped taking the medications? If he had stopped the medicines, then wasn’t he at a bigger risk for a seizure, especially after being jerked around on the Torpedo?

  When we got seated on the roller coaster they announced it was the last run. We were lucky to get on again, but suddenly I felt unlucky because I wanted to get off. A sense of doom fell over me. I needed to check on Mr. Terupt.

  Jessica pulled the lap bar down and looked at me. She saw I wasn’t excited.

  “What’s wrong, Luke?”

  “Mr. Terupt shouldn’t have been on this ride,” I said. “Not with his brain injury.”

  Jessica’s face went pale. The Torpedo didn’t come close to scaring her as much as my words did.

  Suddenly, the chain of cars lurched forward. First we banked hard to the left, then we went up a little rise. Once the Torpedo cleared the crest it picked up speed and never slowed down. We took a series of sharp turns at light speed before being shot out of a dark tunnel. People I know who have visited Disney World and ridden Space Mountain tell me that the Torpedo whips you around in the same fashion, just not with all the special effects or for as long—unless you happen to be on the last run of the night. Our operator didn’t disappoint. He let us whip around a few extra minutes, and for the first time ever, I was begging him to stop.

  It was after we came out of the dark tunnel on our second lap that I saw the commotion. There was a crowd gathered nearby, all huddled around the ground. I started yelling for them to stop the ride. But everybody was screaming. No one heard me. We kept going.

  FADE IN: The Torpedo comes to a halt and LUKE and JESSICA ram the lap bar up and jump out of their car. JEFFREY hurries behind them.

  JEFFREY

  (chasing after his friends)

  Hey, where are you guys going? What’s wrong?

  LUKE

  (running and pointing)

  It’s Mr. Terupt.

  CUT TO: The sea of people. They’re eerily quiet. We can’t see past them. We can’t make out who or what they’re gathered around. We can’t tell what they’re watching that has them mesmerized. LUKE, JEFFREY, and JESSICA fight their way through the crowd.

  JESSICA VO

  I can’t see. Let me through! I can’t see! Please don’t let it be Mr. Terupt. Not again.

  I knew he wasn’t okay. He shouldn’t have been on that ride!

  I was angry. Mad at the world. My life was finally going good and then this had to happen—again! It wasn’t fair! Why?!

  There were people everywhere. I couldn’t see. I dropped Lexie’s hand and tried wiggling my way through the crowd. Someone was on the ground.

  Teach and Luke knelt next to the body. It was a woman. But who?

  “Call nine-one-one!” someone shouted.

  “Hang on, Evelyn. Help is on the way!”

  My heart almost stopped. My breath was taken from me. It was Danielle’s grandma!

  Not Grandma. You can’t take her.

  Once I pushed my way through the crowd and saw what was going on, my mind went back to that day in the snow when Mr. T was the one lying on the ground—unresponsive. Danielle knelt by him and gently slid her hat and coat underneath his head. Luke was also by his side, checking for breathing and a pulse. Jeffrey came running back outside. “Help is on the way,” he yelled. Anna was nearby, on her knees, crying silently, with Jessica in hysterics next to her. Jessica was screaming and crying, “Mr. Terupt! No! No!” Lexie and I both stood back watching—alone.

  As my mind replayed that snowy day, I heard Jessica’s yelling all over again. And then I suddenly realized the frantic cries were for real, except now they came from Danielle.

  “Grandma! No! No!” Danielle had pushed her way through the crowd to discover that her grandmother was the one on the ground. She dropped to her knees and fell to pieces.

  Anna was right there with her, like she had been with Jessica last year. She wrapped her arm around Danielle. Mr. T and Luke knelt by Danielle’s grandma. Jessica and Ms. Newberry stood nearby. I stayed back—frozen in place. I didn’t know what to do other than watch. And I didn’t even like doing that, but it was another one of those times when you couldn’t just turn away. Luke, on the other hand, knew how to respond.

  Practice might make perfect for some things, like wrestling, for example. I know I keep getting better every time I drill a move. But there are other things where no matter how much you practice, if you don’t have “it,” then you’re never going to.

  I’d been through this scene with Mr. T, Asher, and now Danielle’s grandma, and I could tell you I wasn’t getting any better with experience. I didn’t have what it took in these moments, but Luke
did.

  “Evelyn, can you hear me?” Mr. T called over her.

  No response.

  “Evelyn, are you okay?”

  Still no response.

  Then I saw Luke doing his thing. He held his ear close to her chest and pressed two fingers against her neck. Our Boy Scout with his First Aid Badge wasn’t such a dork anymore.

  “There’s no pulse,” Luke said. “We need to start CPR.”

  Mr. T opened Grandma Evelyn’s mouth and made sure her airway was clear. Then he started pushing on her chest.

  “Grandma! No!” Danielle cried. “Fight! Fight!”

  Mr. T kept going until Jeffrey showed up. “Excuse us. Watch out, please. We’re here to help,” Jeffrey called out. The crowd parted so Jeffrey could easily get through, along with the two EMTs he’d found at the first-aid station.

  There was always a first-aid station at the carnival. Usually, the responders dealt with a few little kids getting skinned knees, nothing more. One year, when it was unusually hot, they helped someone who got dehydrated, but that was the most challenging situation the carnival had ever needed to handle. The EMTs weren’t paramedics, just regular citizens, a man and a woman who volunteered.

  Jeffrey stepped aside when he reached Grandma Evelyn so the EMTs had room. The guy carried this black case. Luke told me later on that it was an AED, which stands for Automated External Defibrillator. It’s like a computer device that tells what to do to an unconscious person and it has those pads that can shock you. The woman carried your classic orange first-aid kit. This was where it got interesting.

  “Grandma! No!” the man cried. He dropped the black case and fell to his knees.

  “Charlie!” Danielle sobbed.

  The man twisted around. “What happened?” He looked at Danielle, desperate for an answer.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Where’s Grandpa and Mom and Dad?” Charlie said.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Mom!” Anna called out. She rushed over to the woman.

  “It’s okay, honey. We’re going to help. Stay back.”

  I couldn’t believe it, what were the chances—the man EMT was Danielle’s brother and the woman EMT was Anna’s mom. Charlie didn’t handle finding his grandmother on the ground any better than Danielle. I couldn’t blame him. So Anna’s mom took over. She never lost focus.

  “Do you have a pulse?” she asked Mr. T.

  “Not yet.” He kept pushing.

  “Open the AED,” Luke said, pointing to the black case. “It’ll tell us what to do. I’ve used one at Boy Scouts before.”

  Anna’s mom opened the case.

  “APPLY PADS,” the robot voice from the case instructed.

  Anna’s mom pulled these sticky pads out of the case. Mr. T stopped CPR and ripped Grandma Evelyn’s shirt open. At least she had a bra on! At least it was plain white and nothing crazy like Mrs. Williams’s underwear. But then Anna’s mom cut the bra right in half. I thought they were going to need to hook the AED to me next. I almost passed out.

  They attached the sticky pads to Grandma Evelyn’s skin.

  “ANALYZING HEART RHYTHM. DO NOT TOUCH THE PATIENT.”

  The crowd grew very still, all of us waiting to hear what the robot voice would say next.

  “SHOCK ADVISED.”

  The crowd gasped.

  “STAY CLEAR.”

  A surge of electricity was sent to Grandma Evelyn’s body, causing her to jump and twitch.

  “Grandma!” Danielle yelled.

  “ANALYZING HEART RHYTHM.”

  We were back to holding our breaths and each other. I held Lexie, but not in one of those boyfriend-girlfriend embraces. Any romance we had that night was long gone. This was a hug between two scared friends—nothing more. Then I felt someone else’s touch on the back of my shoulder. It was my dad.

  “PULSE REESTABLISHED.”

  Suddenly there were small smiles and sighs of relief. I could tell that everyone felt hopeful. I did. And I felt it in Dad’s squeeze too.

  Seconds later the ambulance arrived. It tore across the field, throwing mud everywhere. Real paramedics quickly loaded Danielle’s grandma into the back, the black case still attached to her. Then the ambulance threw more mud from its tires as it sped away.

  The gathered crowd started moving in all different directions again. Lexie spotted her mother and ran to her, leaving me with my father. Everyone else was gone. Dad wrapped his arm around me as we walked to the car. Would he have put his arm around me last year if he’d been with me on that snowy day? I could have used him then. But he was with me now. Things had changed. This was the first time I could ever remember my father showing me any kind of affection. I wouldn’t forget it.

  may

  Sometimes when you look back on things it all makes sense. I remember the night before the carnival started. My family gathered in Grandma’s kitchen sipping tea and drinking coffee. We had just come home from the carnival site after making sure everything was ready to go.

  Grandpa sat in his chair, stressing. I figured he was tired and worried about the carnival, but after listening to those men under the burger tent, I realized he was agonizing over the Indians as much as anything else. Grandma did her best to take care of Grandpa by waiting on him hand and foot—all the while stressing more than he was. And she tended to Charlie and Dad. Like Grandma, we all worried about Grandpa. We should have noticed that all of Grandma’s fretting was wearing her down. It was the reason she had a heart attack on opening night.

  I’m still not ready to talk about what happened at the carnival. I just can’t. Maybe someday I’ll be able to, but not yet. I can tell you about what happened after the ambulance left, though.

  I rode to the hospital with Dad and Grandpa while Mom rode with Grandma. Anna rode with Charlie and Terri. I remember Dad driving faster than usual on the back roads, and I remember Grandpa staring out his window. I try to imagine how Grandpa must have felt, but I’m not sure I can. I had only known Grandma for a small amount of time compared to Grandpa, and I felt like my world was falling apart.

  At the hospital, Grandma was rushed into emergency surgery and I found the waiting room—again. Of course the rest of my family was with me. Grandpa sat staring at the wall, while Dad and Charlie stood off to the side talking in hushed voices. I heard Charlie say something to Dad about the other farmers. Mom joined them, whispering about how it would surely take a toll on Grandpa next.

  “I know the Indians want our land,” I exploded.

  Everyone turned to look at me.

  “I said I know those Indians want our land. You don’t need to be so secretive around me.”

  Then the one thing I didn’t want to happen did. I started bawling like a baby. I’d been crying over Grandma already, but now I really lost it.

  “Get ahold of yourself, Danielle,” Grandpa said. Anna put her arm around me. “Your crying won’t help anything,” he went on. “And it just shows why we didn’t tell you.”

  That made me mad and got me to stop carrying on. I could handle it.

  “Those greedy self-entitlin’ Indians are after all our lands,” Grandpa said to whoever was listening. “They’ve been walkin’ in other fields and devilin’ up who knows what sorts of plans. They can’t be trusted, that’s for sure.”

  “Grandpa, you shouldn’t let the other farmers get you so riled up,” Charlie said. “It doesn’t do you any good. The courts will handle it.”

  “You’re probably right,” Grandpa said, “but if somebody doesn’t get riled up, then I fear nobody’s gonna stop them Indians.”

  I woke with a start several hours later. The doctor tending to Grandma entered the waiting room. We all took deep breaths and held them, bracing ourselves for the news he had come to deliver. The doctor pulled the mask off his face and walked over to our family. I kept waiting for one of those big sighs from him, but it never came.

  “I think she’s going to make it,” he said.

  We let out h
uge sighs of relief.

  “She’s in intensive care and will need about another week in the hospital for us to monitor her progress, but then I expect she’ll be ready to go home.”

  “Oh, thank you, Doctor …?” Mom said.

  “Dr. Takoda,” he said.

  Mom’s face twisted at the funny name.

  “It’s Native American and means ‘friend to everyone,’ ” the doctor said, explaining his name. “That seems like a good thing for any doctor,” he added with a laugh.

  “Yes. Yes, it does,” Mom said. The rest of us were as quiet as when Dr. Takoda first walked in. He was Native American. Didn’t that just complicate our feelings. Was that the trade? Give me my grandma and we’ll give you our land?

  Dear God,

  Thank you for not taking Grandma. We need her. I wonder, did she meet you up there and tell you she wasn’t ready? It’s wise of you to listen to her. You better just wait till she tells you it’s time—that’s my advice.

  Now I need to ask you something. Sometimes I feel like I ask for a lot, and that’s probably because I do, but I don’t ask for things that aren’t needed. If I forgot to say thank you for helping me figure out the land war, I’m sorry. Thank you. But the truth is, it hasn’t helped much. I know you know what’s going on, but I don’t know what you’re trying to do. We need your help. I think a lot of families do. I pray that you help us find a solution. I’m afraid of what might happen if the wrong man tries to solve it himself. Please help us. Amen.

  I can’t believe I ever thought Danielle wanted to leave the carnival early because of her period. She can get grouchy when she has it, but it did seem like a ridiculous reason to leave. Turns out she had a lot on her mind.