The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1424 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

I was delighted to see Ken Nicholls on duty when we eventually arrived in A&E. “Good grief, woman, you’re dangerous to know.”

I shrugged, “You forgot the mad and bad bit.”

“Mad and bad?”

“And dangerous to know, someone described Byron as such, Lady Caroline Lamb, I think but I’m not sure.”

“For a university teacher you’re quite well educated.” He smirked at his own joke.

“How is my boy?” I asked going straight to the point.

“We’re doing some imaging at the moment–X-rays and a scan. What happened to him?”

“We don’t know, possibly someone hit him.”

“What with–an axe?”

“I don’t know, I went looking for him when he didn’t appear at the pool–we were all going swimming–he was found slumped in a cubicle, and his watch, his phone and wallet are all missing.”

“Robbery–did they need to half kill him?”

I shrugged, “I’d just like to find them to ask them why?”

“And then kill ‘em?” he asked matter of factly.

“I don’t know what I’d say or do after that.”

“Images coming through, Mr Nicholls,” called a voice from the office.

“Excuse me, work to do–I hope.” He disappeared into his office and reappeared a few moments later.

“That was quick,” I commented.

“Looks pretty straightforward for a neurosurgeon.”

“What d’you mean?”

“He’s got bits of bone in his brain–there is no way I’m going to try and sort that when we have experts down the road in Southampton.”

“Oh, can I see him?”

“When they bring him back from the scanner–sorry, Cathy, it looks pretty serious.”

I stood there looking at him and tears formed in my eyes and began silently running down my face, “You mean he could die?”

“Possibly not that, but there could be significant damage to his brain.”

“Dear God, no.” The tears began to flow in earnest and I heard the kids call, ‘Daddy’.

“Any news?” asked a familiar voice.

“Waiting for the scan results–doesn’t look good.”

“In what way?” Asked Simon.

“He could be brain damaged,” I gasped and burst into sobs.

Simon put his arm round me and held me. “Let’s just see what’s what before we start speculating shall we?”

Ken Nicholls went back to his office and returned. “He needs to be seen by a neurosurgeon asap, the scan shows a swelling on the brain–the ambulance is on its way, will you go with it?”

“Of course, Si can you take the girls home?”

He nodded, “All for a fucking phone,” he muttered under his breath. There were tears in his eyes when he looked at me, “If he dies, I’ll track down the bastard who did this and stick that phone down his bloody throat.”

“We don’t know if anyone did it, he might have slipped and banged his head and then been robbed,” I cautioned.

“But that’s murder by neglect.”

“It’s nasty but it isn’t murder.”

“To ignore someone who’s obviously injured and unconscious–needs an ambulance.”

“I know, Si–I called one.”

“I can’t believe some people.” He shook his head.

A trolley with my unconscious son came back into A&E and a pair of paramedics appeared from the other direction. “Taxi for Southampton,” called one of them.

“I’ll see you down there–gimme the keys for the Porsche.” I handed him the keys and kissed him, he hugged me. “He’s gonna be okay–he’s gonna captain England and the MCC yet.”

I hugged him tightly, “Drive carefully,” I urged him.

“I will, say bye to Mummy,” he exhorted the girls.

I sat in the back of the ambulance while it flashed through the late afternoon traffic, sirens and blue lights helping us on our way. I talked to Danny the whole time, sitting next to him while the ambulance bounced and buffeted its way west.

“Are they always as bumpy as this?” I asked the paramedic in the back with us.

“Only when Lewis Hamilton is driving,” he joked but I wasn’t really in the mood for humour–my child could be dying and so far all the energy I was pouring into him didn’t seem to be doing anything.

Suddenly we were there and the two paramedics pulled the gurney out and ran with it into the emergency entrance and I walked round to the public entrance. Once I’d explained who I was I was taken through to a small ante room and left there on my own–Danny was straight down to theatre for an operation to reduce the pressure on his brain.

I sat and closed my eyes and began praying to a god I didn’t believe in–I didn’t think it would help much, but it gave me something to do.

I found myself meditating and a little while later saw a woman standing before me. “Why have you sent for us?”

“I beg your pardon, I haven’t sent for anyone,” I retorted.

“You have, you have offered up prayers and exhortations to us.”

“Have I? I’m sorry but my son is very seriously ill, if you can help–name your price, if not please leave me alone.”

“I see, you don’t believe in us until you need us–how convenient.”

“Look, Shekiwhateveryou’recalled, either help me or piss off and leave me in peace–I don’t do torment.”

“Why should we help you?”

“Because a child’s life is at stake.”

“Why should that concern us?”

“Because you’re a woman.”

“We are a goddess.”

“That’s still female and females are supposed to care about children.”

“Their own, surely?”

“No, everyone’s children–I’d fight tooth and nail to save anybody’s child.”

“Prove it.”

“Okay–show me what you want to do.”

“In that cubicle is a child with kidney failure who is an almost exact tissue copy to you. Go and offer your kidney.”

“Okay–if you’ll save my child.”

“That wasn’t the bargain–you said you’d fight to save any child–that’s one you could save–prove it.”

“Okay–I will.”

I marched over to the office and told them I was a relative of the child and could they do a quick tissue type. They asked me to leave my name and address and they’d be in touch tomorrow–tissue typing needed specialist staff–they weren’t available now.

I walked back–“I tried,” I said to the woman-thing.

“So did we, we failed too–not a good day.”

“I don’t believe this–you call yourself a goddess, claim all sorts of wondrous abilities yet when the dice are loaded you pull out–you chicken shit.”

It probably isn’t a good policy to antagonise a goddess however pathetic one considers them to be. “We will take your life in exchange for the boy.”

“Go ahead, but he has to be completely recovered.”

“You doubt us?”

“Totally, I wouldn’t trust you as far as I could throw you.”

“For a condemned woman, you seem very defiant.”

“I don’t fear you–so do your worst, you old crone.”

I sat down expecting pain or something to happen. Suddenly there was an enormous blue flash and I fell off the chair. As far as I could tell I was still alive.

“Go and save your son,” the voice reverberated in my head.

“What about the girl with the kidney failure?”

“She’s going to die.”

“No–let her live as well–take me instead.”

“Do not make demands on us.”

“Why not, you do on me?”

“You are here to serve us.”

“I’m sorry but I’m trying to do that, to make your name be associated with the feminine principle–the nurturing and preserving of life. You bring children into the world–you must care about them–if not then I can’t see what sort of female you are.”

“You are prepared to give your life for some stranger’s child?”

“If necessary yes.”

“You are certain of this price?”

“Just do it.”

There was another blue flash and after I regained my senses, I stood up and was buzzing with energy. Obviously I couldn’t walk round the hospital to see either of the children. So instead I sat and meditated sending the energy right through the place helping all who needed it, but especially my son and that little girl with the kidney failure.

In my imagination I saw myself standing over both the children pouring in the energy and healing their injuries. Anyone who saw it wouldn’t recognise me, they would just see a blue star shining so brightly they wouldn’t be able to look at it for long, but the injuries would heal as they watched–miracles? Yeah, okay, but it’s what I was told to do by higher authority–an embarrassed deity–so who am I to argue?