"Lord, bless us and save
us," Aunt Mary said as she rushed to Sissie's side. The little girl wasn't
moving. Her lips were turning blue.
"She's choking!" Uncle Peter said and he knelt
beside her. He put her into a sitting position and began to firmly pound on her
upper back. She was like a rag doll. If he hadn't held her tightly with the
other hand, she would have toppled forward.
"Hold her upside down," Aunt Mary suggested and
Uncle Peter stood and easily lifted the little girl by her ankles and started
shaking her. By now about 30 seconds had gone by since she had passed out.
Francis, Catherine and Jerome were crying. I could hear
Charlie whispering, "Not like William, not like William, not like
William."
People in the future still choke, I thought.
"Sissie!" Aunt Mary remained on her knees, talking
right at her daughter. "Sissie! Come on, Sissie!"
But in the future, I thought, we use the...
"Heimlich!" I shouted but no one paid any attention
to me.
"The Heimlich maneuver," I said. "Use the
Heimlich maneuver!"
It was on a VCR movie we had had to watch in science class.
It was kind of a stupid movie but it did show a person exactly what to do. I
remembered the steps because later some of us boys had been kidding around on
the playground. Pretending to use it and then seeing who could spit the
farthest.
I saw the movie a second time in my Boy Scout first aid
class.
"Uncle Peter," I said, "let me."
It had been about 45 seconds now. I couldn't remember how
long a person had to go without breathing before he or she got permanent brain
damage. A couple of minutes at the most, I thought.
"Put her down," I said. I kind of ordered him.
"Michael," Aunt Mary said, "this is no time
for..."
"There isn't much time," I said. "Put her
down. I know what to do. I learned it in school. Put. Her. Down. Now!"
I heard Brigid gasp. I guess no one ever talked to her dad
that way. But there just wasn't time to be polite or do a lot of explaining.
I bent over and grabbed Sissie around her chest and lifted
her up. She didn't weigh very much. "Let go of her ankles," I said to
Uncle Peter. He did and her legs flopped down.
I spun her around so her back was to me, just like in the VCR
movie. Then I joined my hands together in front of her where they were supposed
to be and pushed in and up.
Nothing happened.
"Michael," Aunt Mary said, "for Lord's sake,
let Pa..."
I did it again.
Nothing happened.
"Let her go!" Pat screamed at me. "You're
killing her for sure."
I tried again. A big, wet chunk of something popped out of
her mouth and landed on the floor about two feet in front of her. We could all
hear the air leaving her lungs and then she took a deep breath. And then
another. And then another.
By the time I set Sissie back down on the floor, Aunt Mary
was cradling her in her arms. The only sounds in the room were Aunt Mary making
little "shushing" sounds and Sissie taking deep gulps of air.
"You saved her," Charlie said. "You saved her
life."
"I just..." I began. "It was just..."
"I never heard any boy yell at Pa like that,"
Brigid said.
"And not get a tanning," Sean added.
"Michael," Uncle Peter said, "you did the
right thing for sure. But how did you know how to...?"
"I... There was a German in the vaudeville show," I
said. "He showed me."
"Heinrich?" Brigid asked. "That Heinrich
Manhover you mentioned."
"Right," I said and smiled. "Heinrich Manhover."
"I couldn't breathe, Mama," Sissie said, tears
running down her cheeks that had returned to a beautiful rosy red.
"I know, little lamb," her mother answered.
"But you're all right now. Cousin Michael saved you."
"He did?"
"He made that apple pop out of you like a cork out of a
bottle of root beer," Charlie said.
"My throat is sore, Mama," she said.
"I should think it would be," Aunt Mary told her.
"But you're fine."
"And my chest hurts."
"That's where cousin Michael squeezed you," Aunt
Mary said.
"So what do you say?" her father prompted Sissie.
"Take smaller bites," she answered, "and don't
hop around when you're eating."
He smiled. "Well, yes," he said, "but I meant
'thank you.'"
"Oh. Thank you, cousin Michael."
"You're welcome, Sissie," I said.
"If you hadn't been here..." Aunt Mary said as she
reached up and took my hand. "I just don't want to think about how this all
might have ended."
She started to cry and so the little kids joined right in.
"I thought it was a happy ending," Uncle Peter
said. "And I think we need more music." He pulled out a violin case
from behind one of the chairs and soon he was sawing away and everyone was
laughing and clapping in time to the music.
Some of the songs sounded like the kind you might hear on the
radio on St. Patrick's Day. Some of the others I recognized, like "Battle
Hymn of the Republic" and "O Susannah." I sang along with those.
Later Aunt Mary and Brigid went out to the summer kitchen and
came back with hot popcorn and cool apple cider. Catherine finished the rest of
Sissie's apple. Brigid cleaned up the chunk on the floor.
After a while the kids went one by one to take their baths
but Charlie and I didn't have to. Instead we made a visit to the outhouse and
then came in and washed up. I used a washcloth to brush my teeth. They had tooth
powder instead of toothpaste.
That was pretty gross.
We went upstairs and Jerome was already in one of the two
double beds in the boys' room. Charlie loaned me a nightshirt to use for
pajamas. I offered to sleep on the floor but he told me to just climb into bed
next to Jerome. Then he got in on the other side.
It was dusk out. About 9 o'clock, I guessed. Soon the room
was dark.
Charlie and Jerome fell asleep but I couldn't. Too much had
happened. Plus I missed my own family. I mean my other family.
I heard someone coming softly up the stairs and into the
room. It was Aunt Mary. It was my great-great- grandmother. She walked over to
my side of the bed and put the back of her hand up against my cheek.
"God sent you to us, Michael," she said quietly. "St. Michael the
Archangel, defend us in battle. If you hadn't been here, Sissie would have
died."
She leaned over and lightly kissed my forehead and then she glided out.
If I hadn't been here, I thought, Sissie wouldn't have been eating an apple
while she was dancing to "Great Balls of Fire."
I fell asleep wondering if the next time I had a hand in causing something bad
to happen to one of these people, would I be able to fix that, too?
I don't remember dreaming.
