From across the parking lot, Peter and Thomas watched as two paramedics entered the Burger Heaven. Thomas was still afraid. He held on to Peter with one hand and stuck the thumb of the other hand into his mouth. Peter reached down and softly petted Thomas' hair.
"It's going to be okay, Tom. She'll be alright."
Thomas looked up at Peter with sad eyes. "How can she?" he asked. "People die when they get shot."
"Not always," Peter said gently. "It depends on where they're shot." He sat down on a nearby bench. "As long as she wasn't shot in the heart, or the head, or someplace vital, she'll be okay." Thomas nodded. "I'm sure she'll be alright," he said again. There was no use in trying to tell Thomas that perhaps he was wrong. Thomas had never been wrong before, so therefore the odds of him being wrong this time were slim. But still there. "Meanwhile, I want you to stay out of there, understand?" Peter added. Thomas looked up. He opened his mouth as if to protest. "I mean it, Thomas. I want you safe. Don't go back in there, ok?" Thomas looked at the ground. "Promise." Thomas nodded.
"Ok. I won't go in," he mumbled.
"Good."
The long wait began. This time it was even worse than the first time. This time a life was at stake. Neither of them felt like playing cards this time. Peter paced back and forth in front of the car. It was the only thing he could think of to do. Thomas laid on the hood of the car, looking at the stars and thinking.
"Hey Dad?" he asked. Peter stopped pacing.
"What, Thomas?"
"I was just thinking," he began. "About Uncle Davy."
"What about him?" Peter asked, coming over to the car. Thomas sat up.
"I don't know. It's just that lately he's been kind of, well, sad. Like Uncle Micky used to be all the time." Peter nodded.
"That's what happens when you loose someone you care about," he explained.
"Mom was like that after Pleter took Joanne," Thomas thought aloud."But she hadn't really lost you."
"No, but she thought she had," Peter said. He sat down on the car next to Thomas. "When you loose someone, it takes a while to get over it." Thomas nodded.
"If you loose Mom, will you be like that? Will I?" Peter thought for a moment.
"I don't know," he said. "Let's hope we don't have to find out." Thomas nodded in agreement.
The first thing she saw was a light. And then a face. A blurry face. She didn't recognize it. She wasn't feeling anything at all. She wasn't really paralyzed, but she didn't feel anything. She heard voices. Blurred voices. Yelling, shouting, talking. Far off in the distance, she heard a young child crying. But none of it made sense. She couldn't tell where she was or what the people were saying.
'Maybe I'm dying,' she thought to herself. 'Maybe I'm already dead.'
"Dad, you're gonna make me dizzy," Thomas said.
"Huh? Oh, sorry," Peter said, and stopped pacing. " I have to do something, and I don't know what." Thomas nodded. He looked at his sister, sitting next to him and thought.
"Hey Dad?" Peter looked up. "What was I like when I was a baby?" Peter thought for a moment.
"You were a lot quieter than your sister. Pretty quiet on a whole. You didn't seem to worry too much about stuff. You were an easy baby." Thomas thought about this for a while.
"Were you there when I was born?"
"Yep."
"Was I easy?"
"Easy?"
"Yeah. I mean, did I take a long time?"
"No, I don't think so," Peter began. He was interrupted by an officer.
"Sir, you'll want to ride to the hospital now," the man said. Alarm shot through him. "Why?"
"They're taking your wife there."
