JACQUARIOUS

Back facing skyward and eyes shut against the concrete, DeWayne Cartrell wasn't moving. A miniature pool of dark red blood was draining from the side of his face as TaKylar came running from her spot near the backyard's old glass table.

The moment I saw the blood, I froze, felt my hands start to shake. "W-what's going on?" I shivered out. "H-he was just—"

"Nine-one-one!" TaKylar barked. "Jacquarious, call nine-one-one!"

"No, wait!" wailed Marvin, who stood mere feet from me as I stared fearfully at DeWayne. "He ain't got no insurance. They're gonna—"

"I got it, man—I'll take care of it," I said, still shuddering. "We...we can't just let him lay there like this..." With a trembling hand, I reached inside my pocket and fished out my phone. I tapped in 9-1-1 between feverish breaths, the unrelenting ice of the air failing to plug the torrent of sweat now gushing from my pores.

****

It seemed like it'd taken them hours to arrive; but after the paramedics finally pulled up along the street in front of Marvin's home, they bolted across the grass and through the splintered wooden gate.

I was still shivering when TaKylar rushed to the fence to let them inside and explained the entire situation—how we'd just been playing basketball when DeWayne collapsed and started bleeding.

The first paramedic, a tall guy with dark hair swept back in a pompadour, grabbed DeWayne's legs while his partner secured a backboard to slide underneath.

I stood my distance, eyes darting briefly to TaKylar as the men lifted DeWayne and carried him out across the grass, securing him in the back of the ambulance.

As the paramedics pulled off onto the street, DeWayne and TaKylar and I all piled into my car and sped after them, blitzing down the road until we connected with the intersecting highway.

The ride to the hospital was a quick one. It was about twenty minutes out, but it felt like we'd made it in half the time. I dropped TaKylar and Marvin at the front, then drove back to the lot to park the car. As I stepped from my vehicle and into the frosted paling daylight, I faintly registered the roar of another engine somewhere in the distance, the rolling of wheels over crackling asphalt as I turned to head inside the hospital.

The glass-clear doors slid open as I approached, and I strode inside to find my friends.

The lobby area was bustling with voices—some of them frantic, some serene—rebounding throughout the air as I stood next to a massive Christmas tree oversaturated with sparkling ornaments.

"Jacquarious! Over here!"

I twisted to see TaKylar and Marvin, hands across their laps as they waited in two of a triplet set of plush navy chairs.

"What's the word?" I asked as I rushed over to them. "Any news so far?"

"Well, he just got in," TaKylar said. "But the lady at the front desk said she'd ask one of the nurses to let us know as soon as—"

"Excuse me, sir."

I twisted around, locked eyes with a slender man in scrubs who held a clipboard against his waist.

"Are you all here for DeWayne Cartrell?"

"Yeah," TaKylar spoke up from behind me. "That's us."

"Well, he's awake. The doctor just finished a preliminary check and says it's fine for him to have visitors."

I gasped. "Already? He just got here—"

"Yes, I know. And there are definitely a few tests we'd like to do, but...well, his parents have to give their okay."

"I phoned his mom on the way," TaKylar said, standing to her feet and sidling up beside me. "She said she'd call right after she got off the phone with me."

"And she did," the nurse said. "But she said she didn't want any tests run without her physically present. It looks like DeWayne just had a nosebleed, so it wasn't hard to stabilize him. But the doctor's worried there might be bleeding elsewhere since he fell onto concrete."

"Oh," TaKylar exhaled. "R-right. I guess that makes sense."

The nurse hesitated. "You guys...still want to see your friend?"

TaKylar nodded. "Yeah—that sounds good."

Marvin stood as she spoke, and the three of us followed the nurse out of the lobby and toward a set of swinging double doors leading to the main hospital floor. The nurse held up his ID tag, a laminated rectangle whose black barcode and photograph were underwritten with the name Bonner, and swiped it at the doors' digital sensor.

With the sounding of a gentle click, Bonner pushed open the doors and ushered us past the reception desk into an area where the hospital's vibrant blue carpet abruptly ended, edging a rigid pattern of smooth white tiles that continued onward. The doors hung open, suspended by the command of their sensor, as we marched between them.

All around us were patient rooms, sealed away behind transparent windows framed in blanched metal, upturned blinds, and privacy curtains hued with electric blue. As we followed Bonner past the first set of rooms, I noticed that interior of the first room on the right hadn't been blocked by its blinds or its curtains. The way the light inside refracted through made its glass almost appear like a mirror, one whose curvaceous and exaggerated angles seemed to flatten my face and—Wait...?

Drawing a tenuous breath, I spotted another imperfect reflection sheening off the glass that shielded the room and its diegetic brightness. Morphed and distorted upon that ice-clear barrier, the images of friends and fearful family members visible from the lobby all seemed to droop and sag, save for the cold and piercing stare of a lone man who glared eerily from behind a widely spread newspaper.

I was seeing only a reflection, but it felt as if he were peering straight at me—those determined and unforgiving eyes shivering every inch of my body. Who was he watching? I dared not whirl and gaze into the lobby, the source of the reflection, even as the double doors standing at attention were finally released to shutter the lobby once more.

It was all I could do to hold my position; to inhale and release deep, shaky breaths; then finally, to trudge one foot after the other as Bonner trekked onward with Marvin and TaKylar at his heels.

****

"Like I said, Miss. The doctor is very optimistic, but we'd still like your consent to run some tests." Bonner stared into Mrs. Cartrell's eyes and held his clipboard nervously.

DeWayne's mother wore a thin scowl as she weighed his words.

She'd arrived only moments after Bonner had taken us to DeWayne, and she'd bristled immediately at the idea of poking her child with needles in the name of bloodwork. Bonner had assured her it was the doctor's request, that the simple needlestick required would be the worst of it.

But Mrs. Cartrell wasn't convinced.

"He had a nosebleed," she finally said. "Why all this hemming and hawing?"

"Miss," Bonner tried, "it was more than just a nosebleed. He was unconscious; he collapsed on solid concrete, and the doctor is worried he might have internal bleeding somewhere in his skull. Not to mention we still don't even know why he passed out."

She shook her head. "He's had nosebleeds before, and he ain't neva needed no needles to figure out what was wrong."

"Well, I'm not sure who your regular doctor is; but our protocol is to aggressively source all incoming cases of bleeding and trauma." Bonner sighed. "We're just trying to be thorough."

Mrs. Cartrell's hand rose to her hip. "Fine," she huffed. "Run yo' tests."

Bonner nodded. "Thank you, Miss." He turned and strode from the room to find the doctor.

The moment the door shut behind him, DeWayne's mother turned to me, TaKaylar, and Marvin and threw her arms around the three of us, pulling us in tight. "Thank y'all for bringin' in my baby," she said, smiling for the first time since she'd arrived.

I spotted DeWayne as he glanced off. "Ma, chill wit all dat. S'embarrasin'."

"Boy, you betta be glad you got friends like dem," Mrs. Cartrell snapped back.

I noticed TaKylar's eyes as they sailed upward and to the right, stopping at the digital clock above the room's washing station. "Wow," she sighed. "I can't believe it's almost five already."

"You kids need a ride home?" Mrs. Cartrell asked. "My husband's on his way afta' he gets off work in a half hour. I can give ya a ride when he gets here."

"Oh, that's okay," I said. "We actually took my car." I turned to Marvin, then back to TaKylar. "If you guys are ready, we can head out."

"Think I'm gonna stay," Marvin said, shooting a glare my way. "My ma's workin' late tonight anyway, so I'll just wait fa her to come get me."

"Oh...okay," I said. "You sure?"

"You ain't gotta keep playin' rich boy all night, J," he said with an edge. "I'm straight."

I sighed, nodding meekly before angling my head toward TaKylar. "Ready?"

"Yeah," she answered, then turned to DeWayne as his mother drew close to the side of his bed. "Get better soon, alright?"

He grinned back. "Straight up, Ky."

She rolled her eyes with a smile. "Don't call me that."