Mermaid Pirate Dispatch

I thought my heart had stopped. Chills danced around my flesh and pulled my skin tight. I stared at Emily. She smiled innocently. I thought I would feel stupid holding an empty hand to my ear, pretending to talk on the phone. Instead, I felt my skin crawl.

“What’s he saying?” she asked before doing a little spin and throwing her hands up victoriously. “He said he wants to watch me dance someday.” She hummed a tune and kept dancing.

“Thomas?” the voice asked. I pulled my hand away from my ear and stared at it, my pulse thumping in my temples. Slowly, I brought my hand back to my ear. “Thomas, you have to help Emily. Can you hear me?”

“Y-yeah,” I stuttered. “Who is this? How is…” I couldn’t find my next words. They just wouldn’t come.

“Focus Thomas, this isn’t about you or me, this is about Emily. She needs your help.” The voice was soft, grave, but also bright and full of hope.

I looked around the room, stared at the windows. It was dark outside. I couldn’t see anyone or anything. I got to my feet and started looking around the house.

“I’m not there Thomas,” the voice said. It could have been a woman with a deep voice or a man with a gentle voice. I wasn’t sure.

“I don’t understand,” I said.

“That’s not important,” the voice returned promptly. “Emily is in danger.”

I looked at her. She was spinning, holding her hands up like a ballerina, but wobbling around like a drunkard. “Doesn’t look like she’s in danger to me,” I said. Another shiver ran down my spine. “What is going on? How are you talking to me?”

“Emily and I talk all the time,” the voice said matter-of-factly. “Look at her. Notice anything unusual?”

My friend’s daughter stopped spinning. She looked at me and smiled.

I shook my head. “No. She seems fine.”

“Look closer. Look at her eyes.”

I knelt by Emily and looked into her eyes. With one eye she looked right at me, but the other struggled to focus on me. “Her left eye,” I said.

“That’s right. She has a tumor. Cerebral fluid is accumulating, building up pressure in the space between the lobes of her brain. If she doesn’t get into surgery soon she will have a severe seizure. She’ll begin vomiting, she’ll lose the ability to stand, she won’t be able to speak, and she will die.”

My heart jumped. “Why didn’t you tell her parents?” I demanded.

“I tried,” the voice said. “They wouldn’t listen. They couldn’t listen. But you can. You’ve got to get her to the hospital. She won’t survive the night otherwise.”

My skin crawled. My mind raced. I looked at Emily. She put a small, stubby-fingered hand on the wall to steady herself.

“She’s already losing her sense of balance,” the voice said urgently. “Quickly. Get her to the hospital. Make them do a CT scan. They’ll see the problem immediately, even at low resolution. This is urgent Thomas. Do it for Emily.”

I was frozen. I knew what the voice was telling me to do, but I couldn’t move. Emily looked at me. Her head was tilted to one side. She smiled awkwardly.

“What did my friend say?” Emily asked.

I hesitated. I swallowed hard. My hand was still to my ear but my palm was sweaty. The voice came through clearly. “Thomas. Get her in your car and take Emily to the hospital.”

“Hey Emily,” I began, shakily. “You want to go for a car ride?”

“We get to go in your car?” she asked.

“Yeah.” I smiled weakly.

She held out her hand. “Can I have the phone back?”

“Oh, sure.”

---

My friend’s wife, Megan, rushed into the hospital room. Emily was still asleep from the anesthesia. “Oh my god my baby.” Megan stood by the small hospital bed and wept.

Mike stood with the doctor who held a clipboard he didn’t need. It was just there so he wouldn’t have to make eye contact when he didn’t want to. “Your daughter was lucky,” he was saying. Mike was staring at his wife and the hospital bed, his jaw slack. I sat up from the recliner that had been my bed that night. “If Thomas hadn’t brought her in she might not have made it through the night. The swelling in her brain was so bad… I need you to understand that there’s still a chance she could have some kind of lasting effects from the damage. Young brains are extremely plastic, great at bouncing back from things like this, but she might have to re-learn how to walk or talk.”

“How?” Mike said, looking at me as I rubbed my eyes. “How did you know?”

I hesitated.

The doctor spoke up. “He mentioned that he had noticed her left eye failing to focus straight ahead.”

“But why take her to the hospital for that? I don’t understand.” Mike looked at the doctor, then back to me.

Emily stirred and wimpered. Megan looked up, tears in her eyes. “She’s waking up,” she said. “Can I hold her?”

The doctor nodded. “Mind the IVs,” he said.

Megan scooped Emily into her arms and continued to sob. The back of Emily’s head was a mess. Her hair had been shaved down a wide track from the top of her scalp toward the space between her shoulder blades. A white bandage was taped over the surgical site, a long strip of gauze spotted with blood.

“My baby,” Megan sniffled.

“Ow mommy,” Emily said weakly. “Ow.”

“I know baby, I know.”

Mike walked over and wrapped his arms around them. “I’m so glad you’re OK Emmy.”

I got to my feet and stretched. Emily’s chubby little arms were wrapped tightly around her mother’s neck, but she looked over at me. She winced with pain and began to cry again, but even through the tears she put a hand to her ear and seemed to be listening. Tears and snot running down her face, she looked back to me and held out her hand. “It’s for you,” she whispered.

My arms and scalp prickled up and I shivered on my way over. I pretended to take the phone and forced a smile, glancing sideways at the doctor. Putting my hand to my ear again I heard the voice. “Thank you.”

[Reddit Post]

Note: This story is, partially, based on a true story. There was no imaginary phone or mystical voice, but there were promptings, gut feelings, and divine intervention. It is the story of my daughter and how her life was saved by her mother and a careful, committed pediatrician.