Chapter 5: The Ambulance Waited Beyond the Door
The paramedics reached the front entrance before I could get away from the kitchen. Their presence came through the house in fragments: footsteps on the porch, a shadow crossing the narrow glass beside the door, the brief sweep of a flashlight over the hallway wall. I could hear the ambulance waiting outside, its engine running low, its lights washing the room in alternating color through the broken kitchen window.
The deadbolts did not move.
I had already tried them once, but I went back anyway. My hand slipped on the inside thumb turn. I pressed it, twisted it, and felt the mechanism stop against resistance that should not have been there. The lower lock offered no relief. The front door stayed shut, separating me from the people who had come to carry me out.
Another contraction gathered before I could step away. I leaned against the wall and waited for it to pass, one hand beneath my stomach and the other gripping the phone. The kitchen smelled of cold night air and broken glass. Fragments from the vase and window covered the floor near the counter, catching the porch light whenever it swung across them.
Mrs. Alvarez remained outside, close enough that I could see her porch light beyond the backyard and the movement of her figure near the front walk. She had become the fixed point in the confusion. I could not reach her, but I could see that she had not left.
The paramedics tried the entrance again. The door shook in its frame. I moved toward it, then stopped when my bare foot found a sharp piece of glass. Pain flashed through the sole, small but immediate. I pulled back and looked down. The safe route to the front of the house ran past the kitchen damage, and the shortest route was no longer safe.
I made the choice because there was no good one. I took the dish towel from the counter and wrapped it around my feet as tightly as I could, then used the counter to steady myself. It was clumsy and slow. The towel dragged across the floor, gathering smaller pieces, while the larger shards remained bright and exposed. I kept the phone against my chest and moved one careful step at a time toward the hallway.
The next contraction forced me down before I reached it. I lowered myself onto the edge of the kitchen cabinet, breathing through the pressure and watching the front door tremble. The paramedics were still outside. The ambulance was still waiting. The locked entrance had turned every second into something I had to spend carefully.
When the pain eased, I crawled the remaining distance rather than risk standing. The towel slipped from one foot, and I caught myself on my palms. Glass pressed through the fabric of the floor covering, but I kept moving until I reached the wall beside the entryway. From there, I could see the door and the thin line of night beneath it.
Mrs. Alvarez appeared in the side of my vision through the kitchen opening, her attention fixed on me from beyond the damaged window and the yard. She lifted one arm toward the front entrance, then toward the people outside. I nodded because I understood what mattered: they knew where I was, and they were still working to reach me.
The door jolted again.
This time, the deadbolts gave a hard metallic sound. The frame shuddered, and the door opened only a narrow distance before catching. I backed away from it, keeping my feet clear of the glass and my shoulder against the wall.
A paramedic reached through the opening. Another widened it from outside. Their movements were deliberate, aimed first at making space and then at getting inside. I held out the phone, but one of them gestured for me to keep it. I tucked it against my side as they crossed the threshold.
The first responder knelt several feet away, close enough now that I could see the reflective striping and the medical bag set on the floor. The second stayed near the opened door. Behind them, the ambulance lights continued to pulse across the walls, the vase fragments, and the deadbolts that had kept the entrance closed.
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I tried to stand when they reached for me. My body tightened again, and my knees folded before I could rise. The paramedic caught my arm and lowered me carefully instead.
They had reached me, but the pain had not stopped, and the house was still full of hazards. The open door remained behind them as the next contraction began.
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