"Crystal," screamed Kyara before she remembered that she was still at school. Then she was out the door, crossing the street as fast she could run.
By the time she got there, Mrs. Waite was on her hands and knees. The freezing autumn air slammed the door against the side of the house, rebounding to hit the old woman again and again. Kyara knelt next to her, placing herself between the door and its victim.
"Mrs. Waite? Jan, are you alright?" asked Kyara. Jan didn't respond, staring forward. Her eyes were half closed.
Stupid question. Of course she's not OK!
"I'm going to get you inside," said Kyara as clearly as she could. Then she wrapped her arms around the older woman and tried to help her stand. Jan was freezing to the touch, her skin so pale it actually seemed white. She sagged against Kyara's grip, dragging both of them downwards.
Kyara heaved them both backwards, spilling in through the doorway. Jan's eyes were open but unfocused as Kyara tried to pull her back and away from the wind whipping in from outside. The inside of Jan's house was almost as cold as the outside, and Kyara spied a large wood stove, now standing open and empty.
Damn the lack of cell reception, thought Kyara. I need an ambulance here, now.
Reluctantly leaving her friend on the floor, Kyara scrambled around the house looking for a phone. The living room in which Kyara found herself was filled with pictures and knick-knacks. Jason's eyes stared at her from a dozen photographs, as did the people Kyara thought must be his parents and grandfather. Kyara scrambled from table to table, knocking over newspapers and puzzle books as she searched desperately for a line to the outside world.
Finally, hidden under a box of crackers, Kyara found her prize. Even as she dialed, she moved back to Jan, dragging a blanked from an old recliner with her.
"9-1-1. What's your emergency?" came the voice on the line. It was loud, almost painfully so, set up to help Jan's failing hearing.
"I just found my neighbor half out of her door and really cold. She's old. Um, Jan... Janice Waite."
"Alright, Ma'am, just stay calm. We need you to stay on the line. Where are you?"
"Main Street, East Hopeful. I, um, I don't know which number is hers. It's right across the street from number 15, though. The Main Street Soul Restaurant."
"Good, Ma'am. Thank you. I'm sending an ambulance right away. Are you in a position to check on her? Can you check on her breathing?"
Kyara followed the directions, first checking Jan's breathing, then trying to get her warm. She rushed around the room, pulling anything which looked warm off of the furniture. Then she pulled the cord on the phone tight as she tried the kitchen and the hall as well. The bedroom remained just out of reach.
"I can't get more blankets from here, I have to put the phone down," Kyara told the operator on the other end.
"That's fine," assured the operator as if talking to a small child, "just don't hang up. Leave the phone where you can get back to it as soon as you can."
Kyara gently placed the phone down, then ran for the bedroom. There she grabbed every blanket she could, pulling them behind her into the hall and back to Jan.
When she returned, Officer Marsh was standing over the woman's still body, checking her pulse with his fingers. He looked up at her, his eyes going immediately dismissive.
"If anything's missing, I'll make sure Mrs. Waite knows who was in her bedroom.”
Kyara's fist clenched. Asshole! Asshole. Asshole. Asshole. As if he can't see I'm here to help.
Kyara didn't bother to respond. Instead, she just dragged the blankets over to Jan, hauling them over the woman's prone form.
Is there more color in her cheeks? Kyara couldn't tell.
Without a word, Kyara left Jan in the officer's care, running back into the cold to get firewood from the stack outside. She came back as soon as she could throwing wood into the stove.
Tinder. I'm pretty sure it needs paper or something to get going. I saw that on TV.
Kyara immediately started grabbing the newspapers from around the room, putting them in as well.
A growl interrupted her.
"Move your ass," spat Officer Marsh. "You're wasting your time." He pushed her aside, not bothering to be gentle.
Fuming, Kyara returned to the waiting phone.
It wasn't where she'd left it. It was hung up on its cradle.