Page 57 of Broken
“Looking good, Dad.”
“Okay, Ethan, what kind of muscles doyouhave?” Prescott asked.
The tyke mimicked Prescott’s dad. Prescott gave his arm a gentle squeeze, then set his arm on the table and pointed to his bicep. “Grab that.”
The child pushed with tiny fingers.
“Okay, Ethan, you ready for a big muscle.”
“Uh-huh.”
Prescott flexed, his biceps bulged, and Ethan said, “Big muskels.”
“You know how I got these?” Prescott felt like he was throwing a hail Mary to get him to eat something.
“I can’t know.”
Prescott scooped eggs onto his fork. “Eggs.” He ate the forkful, then, bit into a piece of toast.
Ethan picked up a handful of scrambled eggs with his chubby fingers, grimaced, and dropped them. “They’re yucky.”
Prescott scooped them onto a fork and offered them to him. Ethan shook his head.
That was all the patience Prescott had. He was plum out, and it wasn’t even seven in the morning.
After wolfing down the eggs, Prescott said, “I’m going to the H to check on things.” Then, he leaned close to Ethan. “I’ll be back as soon as I can with your mommy, okay?”
To his surprise, Ethan threw his arms around Prescott’s neck. “Bye, Uncle Res… Cres.”
“Pres-cott,” he said slowly, then repeated his name. “Can you say that?”
“Prescott,” Ethan mimicked.
“Good job.” Prescott addressed his parents. “Be back soon. Lock yourselves in.”
His mom and dad exchanged glances.
Once at the hospital, Prescott stopped at reception for Sally’s room number, then rode the elevator upstairs. As he strode down the hallway, medical staff rushed into the last room on the right. He entered that room, and froze. A team hovered around his sister.
“Clear,” one of them called out.
Defibrillator pads were pressed against Sally’s chest. Electricity surged through her, then silence.
“Nothing,” said one of the attendants staring at the monitor by her bedside.
“Again,” said a physician.
Prescott stood there in shocked disbelief as they placed the pads on her lifeless body.
“Clear,” the technician said.
Another jolt was administered. Again, nothing from Sally. His sister lay still on the bed. Prescott bowed his head.
Lord, don’t take her from us. We just met her. She deserves to live, to watch her little boy grow up.
“How many is that?” asked the doctor.
“Seven.”
