Mama B - A Time to Mend (Book 4) Read Free

ground. His mouth was wide, not one muscle in his body moving. He was
still breathin’, but I didn’t like him laying there lookin’ all dead.
“Nine-one-one,” I told the lady, “I gotta put you on speaker, ‘cause I need to
put this phone down and pray.”
    “Okay, ma’am. Stay on the
line.”
    It’s a good thing she agreed
‘cause I wasn’t gon’ have it no other way. I laid my hands on the baby’s head
and chest. “Father, I bring Jeffrey before You. Oh, God, You made him and You
know the very number of hairs on his head even now, Lord. In the name of Jesus,
I come against the destruction assigned to him on this day. I reverse the
effects of this accident in Jesus’ name. I command every bone in his body,
every tissue, every cell, every muscle, and every nerve to be healed by the
blood of the Lamb. Lord, raise him up to give You praise all the days of his
life. In the name of Jesus I pray, Amen. And it is so.”
    The operator agreed, “Amen.”
    About that time, I heard my
doorbell ringing. I moved Jeffery’s legs again so I could get back in the
house, then made my way to the main entrance. I swung the front door wide.
“This way.”
    The paramedics followed me to
the back porch, where Jeffrey was just starting to sit up on an elbow.
    “Glory to God!” I praised.
    “Ma’am, you said he was
unconscious,” one of the emergency men said with a tinge of an attitude, like
he didn’t appreciate the fact Jeffrey was better without him havin’ somethin’
to do with it.
    “He was passed out,” I
said, “but look like the Lord got here before you did.”
    We helped Jeffrey into the
house. Now that human help had arrived, the 9-1-1 lady got off the phone. I
sent Frank a text message and he called me within a minute.
    “What’s going on, B?”
    I filled him in on what I
knew.
    “What about his mother?”
    “Now, that I don’t know. I
got to get back out and see.”
    “You need me to come home?”
he offered.
    “No, I’m all right,” I turned
him down, though maybe I shouldn’t have. One thing I know about husbands: They
sure do like to be needed. So I tacked on, “I’m okay for now. I’ll call you
back if anything changes, honey.”
    “Okay. Love you.”
    “Love you, too.”
    We hung up.
    I wanted to ask the
paramedics about Julia, but I knew better than to do so with Jeffrey still in
the room.
    They put some ice on his
forehead and started asking him questions—what year is it? Who is the
president? What’s his address? What’s two plus ten?
    Jeffrey had trouble
answering, of course, so I pulled that funny-actin’ emergency man to the side
and said real soft, “He’s a special needs child.”
    “Oh,” he nodded and spoke
loudly, “Is he retarded?”
    Jeffrey looked toward us,
frowning. Obviously, he didn’t like that word. Neither did I. I stepped in
closer and whispered, “I’m not sure what his diagnosis is, I just met him this
morning. I’m new to this neighborhood.”
    “Well, how can you be sure
he’s slow?”
    “I’d have to be slow not to
know he’s slow,” I answered. Tell you what, this one here was about to make me
pray over his stanky attitude.
    “Oh. Are you the maid?”
    I know he didn’t! “Would a maid be standin’
here in a house robe?”
    The nicer paramedic jumped
in. “Pike, call in and let them know we won’t need a bay at the hospital. This
guy’s gonna be fine.”
    Pike’s partner saved him from
a good tongue-lashin’.
    “I don’t know what’s wrong
with your buddy,” I said, “but he ain’t got no business helpin’ people in a
time of need if he don’t have better bedside manner than that!”
     
     
    Later on that night, while I
was tellin’ Frank about the whole ordeal over dinner, he told me not to take
Pike personal. “People like him are adrenaline junkies,” Frank explained. “He
was probably disappointed that his skills wouldn’t be utilized. No blood and
guts.”
    I rolled my eyes and took
another bite of my mashed