Moaning and Gasping for Breath
1675 Words
In the professor's office, the gorgeous blonde woman banged on the window. "Seriously! The window is stuck. Now! Of all times!" she complained aloud.
The professor moaned in pain and gasped for breath.
"Damn it," the blonde said. "They just can't find me in here."
The doorknob turned, but the door didn't open. She heard a commotion in the hallway. The voices were deep and masculine.
Outside the door, EMT Larry said, "Somebody get a key. The office door is locked."
"We don't have time for that. We're going to have to break the door," James responded.
"You're the one with the physique," Larry smirked. He stepped out of the way saying, "Be my guest."
James took a few steps back. He rammed the door with his shoulder. His muscular weight was no match for the cheap, university issue door lock. It broke easily. The door swung open.
James and Larry burst into the room with the stretcher and equipment. Students and the department secretary peered through the open doorway behind them.
"Oh...my...God!" James exclaimed at the sight in front of him.
Larry's expression changed when he glimpsed what had momentarily stopped James in his tracks – the naked professor spread eagle across the desk!
Larry shook his head as he pulled equipment out of his bag. "Why is it always the old men who are naked?"
The two paramedics worked quickly. They fitted the oxygen mask around the professor's head. They set up the portable heart monitor and the defibrillator.
"Checking pulse. Negative," James said.
Larry stepped closer to the desk. His foot kicked a piece of paper on the floor. Nobody noticed that it revealed a USNE campus ID badge. Nobody except the person hiding under the desk!
The blonde's perfectly manicured hand carefully reached out from under the desk towards the badge. Her fingers slowly crawled along the carpeted floor. She stretched as far as she could...and ended up an inch too far away!
"He's in Vfib. Charging to 200. Clear!" James ordered.
Larry stepped back.
James shocked Professor Rivard with the paddles. His body convulsed on the desk.
"Still no pulse," Larry said.
James and Larry moved around the desk adjusting equipment and checking the professor. Several times, they narrowly missed stepping on the blonde's hand as she strained to reach her elusive ID badge.
"Charging to 300 joules," James announced. "Clear!"
Finally, the blonde grabbed the badge a split second before James's foot landed on that exact spot.
"Start the IV. One milligram epi," James ordered.
The blonde held the badge close to her under the desk with a triumphant look on her face. She loved to win, no matter the challenge.
"The IV is in," Larry confirmed.
"Come on, professor, we're cranking you up to 360 here. Clear!" James yelled.
His body jumped involuntarily on the desk. James and Larry turned hopefully towards the portable heart monitor.
The monotone beep indicated that the professor flatlined.
"Damn it!" James said as he closed Professor Rivard's eyes. He quietly covered the naked body with a sheet.
* * *
A sedan moved swiftly along a particularly scenic stretch of rural road. A rented moving trailer attached to the back bounced noisily.
"It looks like a postcard!" said Pauline Rondell. She stared dreamily out the window as they passed the freshly painted sign which announced: Welcome to Northbridge, Connecticut.
The twenty-four year old newlywed looked back at her husband, Scott, who was twenty-eight. Her eyes filled with love, hope, and excitement about the new life they were starting together.
Despite his jacket and tie, Pauline thought her new husband looked like he should still be the captain of the Northbridge High football team, which in fact he had been ten years earlier. She wished she had known him back then. Maybe they would have been high school sweethearts. It would be so romantic if she could tell everyone that they had only ever been in love with each other.
Pauline looked down at her plain sweater and slacks, all in subdued earth tones. She imagined Scott in high school dating cheerleaders in their bright outfits. She imagined them laughing at her as she sat in the corner of the library studying.
How did a man like Scott ever fall for a woman like her? she wondered. The doubts overtook her previous light mood. Was this whole moving to Northbridge idea a huge mistake?
Pauline absently played with the automatic locks. They snapped back and forth repeatedly.
"What's wrong, Pauline?" Scott asked.
She shrugged. The locks clicked again.
"You'll love Northbridge," Scott said confidently. In fact, Scott said everything confidently. He was just that kind of guy.
"Easy for you to say. We're moving into the house you grew up in."
Scott smiled. "Good old Maplewood Drive. Guess you can go home again after all."
Pauline sighed. "I wish I had that kind of stability when I was a kid..."
Scott impulsively reached over to kiss his wife.
At the same moment, a fox bolted out of the woods. It ran directly into the car's path.
As Scott's lips brushed her cheek, Pauline screamed, "Scott, look out!"
The tires skidded. The brakes screeched. The steering wheel spun as Scott's fingers gripped it mercilessly!
A few minutes later, a dust cloud rose by the side of the rural road. There was silence except for a strange squeaking which turned out to be the sedan's license plate swinging back and forth, hanging from one screw.
The sedan sat at an odd angle facing some bushes while the detached moving trailer rested by itself several yards away in the middle of the street.
Scott blinked his eyes as he became aware of his surroundings and what happened. He squirmed, but the seatbelt had locked him firmly in place. He looked over at his unmoving wife. "Oh, my God, Pauline, are you hurt?"
She heard his voice. It snapped her back to the realization that there had been an accident. She reached up and rubbed her neck. "I'm a little sore, but I think I'm all right. You?"
"I'm OK," Scott answered while he unbuckled the seatbelt. He got out of the car and stretched.
Pauline tried to open her door, but it was stuck. She pushed against it with all her weight, but that didn't help either.
Scott went around to her side of the car. He yanked on the door handle and freed it.
"My hero!" Pauline smiled, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.
"Thank God you're all right. I don't know what I would do if something happened to you," Scott said taking his wife in his arms and squeezing her against his muscular framed body.
"My neck, remember?" Pauline protested.
"Shoot, that's right. Sorry."
Pauline suddenly distracted herself with another matter. "The fox! What about the poor fox?"
Despite her sore neck, Pauline twisted around, looking all over the place, including under the car. She and Scott scanned the entire area.
"I didn't even hit the stupid thing," Scott grumbled. "God knows what kind of damage the car sustained, not to mention us. Poor fox, my ass!"
"Now it's not his fault that we were driving through his woods."
Scott shook his head. He looked lovingly at Pauline. Then his gaze went past her to the car. His expression changed. "Can I at least blame the fox for the two flat tires?"
Scott limped slightly as he and Pauline made their way along the deserted country road. Scott glanced over his shoulder. Their car and moving trailer were barely visible in the distance.
"Is your knee really bad?" Pauline asked sympathetically.
"Yeah, that damn football injury again. Memories! Welcome to Northbridge."
Pauline laughed. She put her arm around him while they walked, allowing him to lean on her to take some of the pressure off his knee.
"Let's check our cell phones again," Pauline suggested.
"Good idea." Scott dug his phone out of his pocket and held it up. "Damn, still nothing. You?"
Pauline shook her head negatively in response to seeing there were no bars on her signal strength indicator either. "I guess we're just smack in the middle of a dead spot."
"Lucky us," Scott complained.
They walked on quietly. After a couple minutes, Pauline broke the silence. As nonchalantly as humanly possible, she said, "So, tell me about Sarah."
Scott stopped walking. He looked directly at his wife. "Sarah! Where did you come up with that?"
"Your mother," she answered.
"Figures!"
He resumed his walk, limping on his own.
Pauline tried again. "Yeah, your mother asked me if you ever mentioned Sarah."
"A normal person could say, 'Has Scott ever told you about Sarah?' and it would be a perfectly innocent conversational topic. Not my mother! Oh, no, she says, 'Has Scott ever told you about Sarah?' and she makes it sound like the greatest conspiracy theory in history!"
"Fine, if you don't want to tell me..." Pauline said in a tone of voice that clearly indicated it wouldn't be fine in any way, shape, or form.
Scott averted his eyes as he answered, "There's nothing to tell, really."
"I wouldn't want any hometown old girlfriends going after my handsome husband," Pauline said as more of a question than a statement.
Scott sighed. It was obvious that he had mixed feelings about discussing this topic. "Sarah and I were best friends since fourth grade. She was a tomboy – we used to play football after school for heaven's sake."
"I'm liking her so far," Pauline approved.
Scott got quiet. A clearly meaningful memory surfaced. "Kids can be so awful. What that girl went through." He shook his head in disgust. "The other kids used to call Sarah a 'Four-Eyed Metal Mouth, Tin-Grinned Fatso.'"
Pauline covered her mouth. "The poor thing. That's terrible. We'll definitely have to invite Sarah over for dinner when we get settled in. I'll make her my specialty and-"
Scott had inadvertently stopped listening to his wife. He was lost in a different old memory...
- Writer
