EXTRICATION
It’s back to racing through the corridors. Paul is ill, bedridden with a fever of forty. Armand sprained his shoulder during Saturday’s soccer match with his veterans’ team. Since the start of the school year, there’s been a massacre among the male nurses! It’s down to the ladies to provide the service. Julie arrived at 5pm to prepare for her night shift. She did a tour of the intensive care units, which are extremely empty this evening. Strangely enough, it’s an off-peak period: no soccer, horse-riding or mountain bike accidents. The sportsmen and women are on post-holiday or pre-winter break. No sound of respirators or the monotonous signal of heart monitoring in the ground-floor rooms. The old man from the corner room was transferred to palliative care, while the young lady sadly succumbed to her injuries.
“But what idea did she have of washing her third-floor tiles without at least a minimum of insurance!” exclaims Julie. Her frustration at having let one of her patients go rises again. She had so wanted to give her the care she needed when she woke up! She feels this death is both a personal and medical failure. New technologies and ever-growing scientific knowledge are still not enough!
“Thank goodness the little girl made it!” she says to Catherine, who nods in agreement. While Julie needs to get her resentment out, her colleague is shyer. She probably worries about each of their patients as much as the other nurses but says nothing about it.
“Cat’, one day you’re going to blow up keeping it all inside you! You don’t have to be as direct as I am, but I assure you that talking about it helps you get over everything we go through in our five rooms!”
Catherine bursts out laughing: “I think you’re already pretty articulate for two!”
“Caaaattt…”
“Oh, Fine! Fine! I confess! I went downstairs to let off some steam. Nothing like a bit of sport to take the edge off.”
“And what? Are you going to let me monitor everything all night long while you recover from your half-hour of sports therapy?” she teases.
“Oh but don’t worry, Doctor Borkaisse has already been by to see where you were…” Julie puts her hands on her chest and feigns a silent “me???” as her colleague continues: “I’ve got a feeling that if our customers don’t arrive right away, he’s going to organize another big clean-up,” she replies, “an inventory of what’s left in the cupboards, a check of the files, rehearsing mouth-to-mouth reanimation with one of the new guys from the emergency department or …”
Julie bursts out laughing “Stop hoping… stop counting: you’ll never have enough of your ten fingers to list everything!” and resuming a semi-serious look: “Well, the night’s off to a good start! Especially if you’ve decided to complain for me!”
“What are you complaining about? Isn’t that what you just asked me?” retorts Cat, pushing her towards the door. “Come on! Zou! The sooner you’re gone, the sooner you’ll be back, as my dear little mom used to say.”
“Cat! Your mommy wasn’t little! She was a six-foot-tall giraffe!”
“Shoo before I page mister chief medical officer!”
Julie curtsies to her and walks away towards the elevators with a theatrical gait. Her colleague’s laughter accompanies her exit. Their department is decidedly empty. For once, a good inventory might be a good idea, even if a Saturday evening isn’t THE quietest night of the week… quite the opposite!
Doctor Borkaisse’s office is on the other side of the building. Julie has to climb one floor and cross two wings to reach it. On the way, she is accosted by the various nurses who have finished their shifts. The messages from the floor are the opposite of those from her department: “Pfuu, you can’t imagine how happy I am to head back home! Your little newcomer made a real fuss as soon as he arrived on my ward!” exclaimed Sylvie as she passed by. From all sides, patients grumbled, clamored, demanded … a tiring day during which the usual care proved hard to perform. In the intensive care unit, however, the tension eased with the final transfer.
She leaves the little worries of busy days behind and heads for the big boss’s house. Doctor Borkaisse is sitting at his desk when Julie finally arrives. He’s lost in the paperwork of the early evening. Taking advantage of the open door, she stops for a moment to observe him quietly. She doesn’t find him particularly attractive, no; she prefers jolly fellows to more serious men, but the way he devotes himself to his work intrigues her. He’s concentrated at his desk, pen in hand, filling in a pile of forms. In his forties, with salt-and-pepper hair, he has the body of an amateur athlete: neither too muscular nor too flabby.
“What a day,” he exclaims as he senses the nurse’s presence at his doorstep, “come in Miss Julie, come in… and … please close the door behind you.”
He’s barely finished his sentence before he’s back in his papers. With the key in her hand, Julie studies him a moment longer. The man in front of her is known for his uprightness and decisiveness. He has risen through the ranks of the hospital on the strength of his skills alone. He inspires respect and, for young interns, is a role model. When he finally raises his eyes to hers, Julie decides to enter. After closing the door, she settles into the armchair right in front of the desk and waits to find out the purpose of her visit.
To her surprise, the chief physician puts down his pen, clasps his hands to the armrests of his own chair and straightens up. This movement unsettles her for a moment. “But what does he want with me?” she wonders, “he’s neither a flirt nor a stalker!” She follows him out of the corner of her eye as he makes his way to a small corner table, two meters to her right. She makes herself look as relaxed as possible: “If he thinks he’s going to throw me off my game by getting a refill from the percolator, I’m not going to fall for it as easily as that. I’m too old for that! But let him tell me why I’m here! Even if we don’t have many patients, I don’t like leaving Cath alone for too long.”
He fills his cup with decaf without saying a word, opens his drawer and takes out a small container of sweetener. He extracts two tablets before carefully returning it to its place. Then he goes to his central cupboard, which contains an apartment fridge in its lower section. He takes a capsule of condensed milk and returns to his desk. Julie remains as passive as possible. She pushes thoughts of job loss, harassment… out of her head; her attention held by the glaring absence of organic food at the head doctor’s… a nice topic of conversation to share with Catherine tonight!
“You’ve just arrived for your night shift, haven’t you?”
“Yes, indeed,” she replies confidently. The explanation for her visit is not long in coming: Doctor Borkaisse is known for getting straight to the point. Julie relaxes in her seat and keeps a blasé face. If she’s going to get a rude surprise, she might as well be comfortable and ready to listen.
“In view of all the paperwork I’ve just completed, may I conclude that your department is virtually empty?”
“Apart from little Sophie who’s in the waking room after surgery, we don’t have a sick patient no more, indeed.” Julie senses that Catherine’s intuition has hit the nail on the head once again: the chief physician’s thoughts are definitely moving in the direction of annual tasks. But why call her in when a simple memo would have sufficed?
“That’s what I thought. In just under two hours your service will be really empty and, even if it fills up as the evening goes on, one less person to manage the entrances for the first part of the night is viable.”
“One less? What do you mean?” As she exclaimed, she straightened up in the armchair, leaning on her hands.
“We have one person on leave and two sick people in the emergency department. So I’ve got three shifts without one of their members. That’s a situation I can’t allow on a Saturday night.”
“In the department next to mine?” ventures Julie. Catherine will grumble if she’s the one joining the extra-muscular newcomers they admire every day as they walk past their section.
“No, with the paramedics.” He looks down at his papers and, without giving the nurse time to recover from her surprise, he details, “You’ll be taking Paul’s place on Rudy’s EMS team.”
She looks at him with round eyes. Being in the emergency department is one thing, but out and about, on the go … not really her thing.
“Are you sure?” she inquired in an insecure voice. It’s not in her habit not to retort from the hip when the situation doesn’t suit her, but in this case her mind emptied all at once to leave her without a rejoinder.
The chief physician stares at her with his hard, determined gaze. His decisions are not taken lightly, and he has to make the best of what he has. His prescription is unique, but so is the situation. Julie, with her temperament and experience, will come in handy in the field. She’s the only one he can keep off his service. He needs her skills to act in a hurry, and her maturity to obey the man in charge when necessary. It’s not something you can learn at the snap of a finger, and the nurse in front of him has the ability to do it. At least, by the time she crosses the two wings again, she’ll be used to the idea! She’s got everything she needs to succeed and do an excellent job. Now the head doctor has to find two more replacements. He indicates the door with one hand and dives back into his papers. Dismissed, her feet unsteady, she gets up and leaves the room without adding anything. As she walks out the door, he calls out to her:
“And tell Miss Catherine that the stock statement is just a postponement!”
Julie nods and turns right. After taking three steps down the corridor, she puts her back to the wall and closes her eyes for a moment.
“Me in an ambulance! What am I going to do there? It’s not my place: I’m already car sick!” Perplexed, she crosses the hospital in the other direction. To her great relief, her colleagues are all gone or busy, and she meets no one this time.
Back in her department, Julie tells Catherine the news:
“No unnecessary overwork tonight Cath: you’ll be on your own for the whole first part of the night. In principle I’ll join you at the warm moment … if I’m not unreachable …”
“What’s going on? Nothing serious?”
“Oh, no!” exclaims Julie a tone louder than expected “Two sick, one off and we call Super Julie to the rescue! Sure enough, with my mastery of speed I’ll be flying our bolibulance to the rescue of the weak and orphaned!”
Catherine bursts out laughing.
“If the idea of entrusting you with the wheel of my racing car crossed my mind for a moment … now it’s forgotten forever!
Rudy stands at the entrance to the ward, elbow resting against the door frame. Julie hurriedly went over everything she’d said, looking for any possible clumsiness towards the ER doctors … but … NO … it doesn’t seem … they must have been spared this time.
“I’ll be ready in a little while.”
“Don’t dawdle! And I’d advise you to go round to the bathroom as soon as possible …” he comments while putting his thumb to his ear and his little finger to the corner of his mouth: “We start when they call and not when they arrive!” With a big smile, he removes his second hand from the doorframe and monkeys the stretcher’s carriage. Then, after tapping the door with the flat of his hand, he waves to Catherine and walks off towards the emergency section.
Julie imitates Rudy and his recommendations. Waddling her buttocks exaggeratedly, the handles of the imaginary stretcher at arm’s length, she heads for her belongings. She grabs her vest and victuals. Her novel is usually at the bottom of the bag. She’d bought it at lunchtime, to be read during the midnight break if the evening turned out to be calm. Now the idea resembles genius inspiration: this book comes at just the right time … the whole early night should be quiet and she’ll be back in her own department well before a hypothetical outing.
The ambulance drivers’ rest room is empty. Those who have just finished work are already on their way out, while those on duty are checking their vehicles’ stock. The equipment used during the day needs to be replaced, and the rest tested before setting off on any mission.
Julie chooses a chair in the middle of the left-hand wall. From there, she’ll be easy to see if anyone needs to get in touch with her. With her mobile phone tucked into her jacket, she places it on the back of the chair before settling down and taking her novel from her handbag. She has deposited the lunch she bought at the canteen in her locker. If she felt a little hungry, she could use the excuse to stroll back to her shift and check on Catherine at the same time. Settling down as comfortably as possible, she plunges into her book.
By chapter seven, the two lovers are arguing over the symbol of their love, when the call comes.
“No time to daydream, Julie! A road accident.”
Julie raises her head: no, it’s not the handsome man from her novel. She gets up from her chair, puts the book down and hurriedly grabs her bag and jacket. She doesn’t have time to put it on before Rudy is already three steps ahead, explaining: “Potentially four casualties. That’s all we know for now, but the victim hasn’t cut off the conversation yet. 112 (911) has already transferred the call to us in the vehicles.”
“The?”
“Probably four or five injured, Julie! And from the sound of the phone, it won’t be pretty.”
In the parking lot, no one in sight. The two ambulances are purring away. No doubt about it, everyone is already in their places, ready for action. Julie follows Rudy into Albert’s vehicle, which starts off with a bang. The other van is left behind. On the entry phone, a voice squeaks out: “Fucking wood!” While a strange moaning sound echoes. “Calm down, big guy, calm down”. Julie looks around: she’s the only lady in the car, and the rear window is closed. Rudy points to the speaker above the passenger door. The female voice resumes in a trembling tone. “If you don’t work with me, we’re all going down.” A clang of scrap resounds throughout the cabin.
Julie grabs the seatbelt as Albert pulls onto the main road. She then folds her jacket, which she hasn’t had time to put on, in her lap and looks around. The road is deserted. The ambulance engine hums in the night. The curtains are drawn in most of the houses lining the main street. No one at the windows to admire them as they pass. It’s a far cry from TV series and crime novels. A glance at her watch confirms the situation: it’s half past one. Her book had captivated her for longer than expected. She had forgotten about her walk to Catherine’s side and skipped her lunch break. At this late hour, all that’s left on the road are the first returns of reasonable revelers and the young people going back and forth between the various nightclubs in the area. In a little over an hour, Catherine will be at the door of their department to welcome the various carefree people who will most certainly have been oblivious to the fact that they couldn’t stop partying in time.
The car’s speakers crackle again and the voice continues its incessant monologue. Julie tries to concentrate on the situation at hand: squeezed between Albert and Rudy, they rush to the aid of the lady whose voice echoes throughout the cabin. A sound both frightening and reassuring. The squeaking of a vehicle accompanies her every word. She seems to be talking to herself most of the time. The nurse lets herself imagine this person’s situation, what her car might look like: around a tree? In a small ditch? This reminds her of a passage in her book: the main character, who, having received a phone call from his mistress in the grip of her alcoholic husband, sets off in his red roadster to the rescue of his beloved. Since she lives in the upper part of town, he takes the series of turns at an unacceptable speed. He takes the third turn at the rope and finds himself nose to nose, or rather bumper to bumper, with a fruit and vegetable truck. He veers off at the last second and his left wheels suddenly lift. And as if this wasn’t a perilous enough situation already, he…
A shrill noise startles her. Julie looks around, brought back to the reality of the situation. The voice belongs to a real person! And every second brings them closer. Julie turns to Rudy, “What’s going on over there?” He frowns, still concentrating on the incessant flow of the telephone transmission. He lowers the volume slightly, opens his mouth, then closes it again without saying a word. Julie thinks of her fish in the aquarium on the veranda. He looks at her, then back at the driver, undecided whether to answer or continue his meditation. Finally he turns up the volume again, without a word.
“There, there.” She sounds like she’s talking to a baby. Her calm and sure tone are now impressive. “I’m going to push your head in!” Some time passes before she adds, “Back off at the same time.”
Julie inclines her head towards Albert, who imperceptibly tightens his grip on the steering wheel. He fixes his gaze on the road. His ears betray him: they twitch to the rhythm of the radio. He’s as eager for news as Rudy. Their objective: to anticipate the situation before they arrive at the accident site.
The lady’s breath is so deep that the paramedics feel her presence among them, in their own cab. She takes a deep breath and then lets it out in a firm, resolute “Hun!” She catches her breath again and pushes back “Hun!”
After five times, everyone in the ambulance has matched their air intake to the lady’s. They’re all caught up in the action on the other side of the receiver. Breathing jerks as if taking in air at that precise moment might help the lady with her invisible action. “Your antlers! Don’t eviscerate us with your antlers!” she begs again.
Rudy whispers in Julie’s direction: “She crashed on the N15, in the middle of the woods. She’s either hit a tree or an animal… But with such a noise in the comm’, I’d lean more towards an animal.” That was her interpretation too, but as soon as it’s stated aloud, there’s no choice: it takes on the aspect of proven fact, putting the other possibilities in the background. The three of them plunge back into their thoughts, trying to get a little closer to this reality.
“Why is she talking to him so calmly? It can’t be a dog near her after all?”
“No, probably a deer or worse. But if it is one, I don’t even understand how it could still be alive.”
Everyone ponders Rudy’s words as cries of pain come through the intercom. Unidentifiable creaks accompany them. The driver presses the gas pedal a little harder. The ambulance sped off into the night, its occupants expectant. Julie closes her eyes, while Rudy stares at a point far ahead. Everyone tries to prepare themselves mentally for the imminent arrival.
After three long minutes, the lady seems to have succeeded in her maneuver: a new howl of pain accompanies a frank CRAC followed by a loud sound of metal twisting. Julie plugs her ears as best she can. Then it’s relatively quiet, with only the sound of whining: “It hurts … so much. Why does it hurt? To … I … I have to hold … how much it hurts”.
“If she’s in pain, it means she’s alive…” murmurs Albert from behind the wheel. Julie glares at him. She may be a nurse, but this comment makes her jump every time. We’re human first and foremost! If she’s in pain, she’s hurt somewhere!
“Yes, but for how long?” replies Rudy distractedly. There’s a flicker of worry on his face. Julie feels her heart clench. This remark is even crueler than the other: she’s constantly fighting to get her ICU residents through to the next day, she doesn’t want to assess their chances of survival! But unlike usual, she keeps her thoughts to herself: she’s not in her element, nor in her department. She observes them out of the corner of her eye without saying a word. These situations are not part of her daily experience. She doesn’t see the casualties until the second or even third act, when they’ve been brought in and largely… repaired. Maybe not fully healed, but on the road to recovery. She doesn’t ask the team leader any questions, not yet. She suspects that he still needs to prepare himself in order to give them the best possible orientation when they arrive. He concentrates on his right, while Albert shifts into high gear.
“How long before we get there?” he finally asks the driver.
“A good ten minutes, I think. I can’t go any faster in this darkness and on these damned mini-roads” is the answer.
He is frustrated too.
The tension mounts. They may know more about their main victim now, but do they need so many details? Uncertainty?
The lady continues her incessant flow of words, sometimes plaintive, sometimes with an Olympian calm: “My love, please … look at me! Don’t leave me! I … I …” and then, in a mocking tone, “He left you a little souvenir, a bit cumbersome…”. The irony remains in the throats of all listeners. How can you try to relieve tension at a time like this? This isn’t a film, the person accompanying him is probably in agony. And who still calls their spouse, lover or husband “love” outside of romance novels? But her voice pronounces the word so naturally that it leaves no doubt about the bond between them. For the paramedics, the important thing now is to find out whether her Love is near death or just a little stunned. Which “gift” is it? The voice changes intonation again, imploring: “You’ve got to hold on until help comes! I’m sure they’ll be here soon. Look at me, look at me. I love you, you know I do! Then stay! Stay…”
Julie widens her eyes and frowns. She wishes she could step through the gloom and see what’s waiting for them up ahead. She wants to shout that they’re coming, that they’re on their way. But she can’t bring herself to act. She glances to her right. If Rudy had wanted to let them broadcast as well as hear, he would have done so…
A croak is heard in the car, to which the voice replies, “I can’t take it off. I don’t know what it’s touched. If it bleeds any more … I’ve got nothing to stop it!” and as if speaking to herself she adds softly “nothing.”
Julie feels her emotions rising to the surface. It’s worse than her romance novel. It’s worse than a horror movie. She’s not ready to hear more. Seeing victims and motivating them to heal is her job. But not this, not passive participation in this slow death!
Rudy clutches his hand to hers and squeezes gently. He, at least, is used to these situations. That shiver of despair before the rescue, the feeling of helplessness before the action, the desire to do more and do it faster. That long agony at the other end of the telephone may be something he’s experienced many times before. But here, he’s taken her hand, and this gesture from a gruff, self-assured man surprises her. Julie watches him out of the corner of her eye. She realizes that he has seen many students who are not yet out of school. He senses distress when it manifests itself in the new nurses on his ward. And he responds as best he can. A man needs a friendly pat on the shoulder, a woman needs a squeeze of the fingers, a friendly hug, a little something to say “We’re in this together. We feel the same, but we’re going to make it and we’re going to save them” without having to say a word.
“We have no way of talking to her…”
Julie looks out the window and crushes the tear before it forms: “Would it help?” she finally asks.
“I don’t think so… Listen to how active she is.” and it’s true that a new rustling can be heard in the other vehicle. It’s as if the lady is rubbing up against every nook and cranny of its interior. “It’s often a case of double or nothing: either she gives us the information we need while maintaining her current composure, or she loses all her nerve. But either way, if we were to communicate our needs to her, it would cut off all her initiative… And right now, I think that’s the only thing that could save anyone in this car.”
A long moment of silence followed. The occasional echoes evoke nothing special for the rescuers, who take the opportunity to prepare themselves mentally for the first actions they will have to perform.
A wild, desperate howl startles them all: “Noooooooonnnnnn! My children !!!!!! My children !!!!!!!!!!!! Nooonnnn !!!!!! Stay !!!! No…. Not that !!!! Oh noooonnnn… I … I …” Never have tears made so much noise as they slide down the other side of the phone. Another noise is heard in the distance “Broooooooaaaaa”. “Fight back! Don’t let go! Oh, please: don’t leave me! My loves: you must live! You can’t go! I love you! Stay!!! Nooo!!!! Stay!!!” Sobs accompany the approaching sound, launching a double wail into the night.
Albert stares straight ahead, “The bellow of a stag! That fucking deer has nothing better to do around this car than to start its war song!” His voice is hoarse, jerky. The leather of his steering wheel resists his iron grip.
Julie paled at the sight. “There aren’t just two of them then. But four or five… My God, my God, please let us get there in time!” she thinks. Rudy tightened his grip on her hand. Had she spoken aloud? “We have two traumas and two undetermined.” He turns to her, his gaze hard “Julie, see what we have in stock and what we can cope with!”
But the nurse don’t understand. The echo of the complaint still reverberates in her head. The lady has just discovered her children and she’s crying, she’s screaming, the distress in her voice are repeated stabs into the heart of another mother. This misfortune cannot be possible!
Rudy nudges her and, when he finally gets her attention, points to the wall behind her. Julie looks up and sees above her head the small window communicating with the rear of the vehicle. She stretches out her trembling arm but is unable to knock on it. Her hand grazes the surface like a caress. She straightens up a little, turns to face Albert and reaches out again. Her index finger hits the window: once, twice, before it’s jerked open from the inside.
“So, Fellows,” says a whistling voice, “what’s new on the road?”
A little girl’s voice is heard over the loudspeaker: “Mommy? It hurts, Mommy” to which the lady replies “I’m here, my princess. I’m right here. Shhhhh.”
In the ambulance, Salvatorio suddenly fells silent. And everyone listens.
“Where are we Mom?”
“On the road My Heart … on the road …” the rustling of clothing is heard again.
“What are you doing? It hurts!”
“I’m just pushing you a little bit to get your brother out of his chair. I need to lay him down.”
“That’s the worst kind of bullshit, little lady!” says Salvatorio from the other side of his window. “Never move an accident victim! Haven’t we sent the message to enough people on this planet yet? DON’T… MOVE… AN… ACCIDENT VICTIM!!!”
Julie frowned. When he wasn’t around, at least they could hear what was going on on the victims’ side. She’d like to shut his little window in his face… not even for a minute after making him open it…
“It hurts, Mommy,” the little voice continues.
“Can you tell me exactly where it hurts while keeping your head up my princess?” the lady asks between louder gasps.
“Yes that’s right … tell us, little one!”
Rudy keeps his eyes on the road, puts his hand back on Julie’s that he’d dropped a few minutes earlier, but keeps his lips tightly pressed together.
“I’ve got a headache and a stomachache … and then everything is spinning !!!!”
“I can’t see anything outside, my darling.”
“This mania for adding little names to every sentence!” Julie raises her head and lets out a “Hush” in Salvatorio’s direction. He looks at her surprised, opens his mouth to launch a retort, but from the corner of his eye Rudy nods in the negative. In the speaker, the lady continues:
“Maybe you have something that didn’t stand up to the blow … or it’s tonight’s meal that wants to come up …”
“But my head hurts Mummy… and the middle of my stomach…”
“The spleen?” asks Julie to Rudy.
“It’s quite possible … a violent car crash … to be checked when we arrive.” and turning to Salvatorio “Do we have anything to check it with?”
“I’ll go and see! Are there just two of them? Mother and daughter?”
“No, aim for four. Two traumas and two others. Can you see what we can handle? I’ll call the other ambulance and see what’s available.”
“…now.” Mom continues, “Your brother’s belt is a little tucked into his neck. I’m going to lay him down on my seat. I just need a little room next to you to get him through.”
“Hiiiiiiiiiiiiii” a new, particularly high-pitched cry rang out.
In the background of the ambulance, Salvatorio can be heard grumbling “And here is the girly yelling now” He forgot to close their communication shutter.
“He’s just a little white, Princess. Just white. I’m sure we can get him back.”
“But he’s hanging, Mom” the complaint behind each word tightens the nurse’s throat. “He’s white … and … he hangs …”
“Shhh … he’s just held up by his belt … shhh … I’ll put him on my seat and then I’ll listen to his little heartbeat.”
“Mom … I love him … mom … I don’t want him to die. He’s my brother…” The child’s sobs are accompanied by a soft, reassuring voice.
“We won’t let him leave us! You’ll see. But just let me…” clothes brushing, creasing, stretching… the breathing of a being in full physical effort accompany the ambulance engine. “That’s it. My ears are ringing, but I’m sure he’s still here! Close your eyes, Princess. I’ll bring him back to us. Save your strength and stay with us.” and in a more decisive voice “I push a” and silence. “You can’t leave, Raphi! Two” she shouts “breathe My Treasure, breathe! Three.” In the distance, the echo of sirens can be heard. Julie looks at Rudy, who gives her a little nod. “I give him air” her breath can be heard throughout the cabin “I press one … two”.
“Over there,” Albert suddenly exclaims. Everyone raises their heads. “They’re so close! Ready?”
Rudy turns to the window: “Salvatorio! What do we have in stock? Quickly!”
The edge of the forest stretches out a kilometer ahead, around the next bend. The curve gives a full view of the clearing that runs along the road for three kilometers. Julie wrinkles her eyelids, leans forward, then finally declares, a slight irritation in her voice:
“Where, Albert? I can’t see!”
“Straight ahead, about ten meters from the edge of the wood, on the right: the grey-brown shadows…”
Julie focuses on the point indicated. In the loudspeaker, the bellowing takes over from the distant echo of the sirens. Finally, the head of a doe emerges from the shape of a solid grey mass: the snout elongated and the little ears wiggling. Spurred on by this discovery, Julie observes the neighboring grey areas. These become clearer.
“Oh my God ….” she murmured “how many are there? About thirty? About fifty?”
“Do you see the deer bellowing in our headphones?”
A greyish-brown statue stands some fifteen paces to the left of the herd. Its back is almost to them. Its muzzle kisses the sky while what’s left of its antlers caress its flanks. She nods.
“I think he’s yelling in the direction of the wrecked car!”
And Julie concludes with Albert, “We’re close.”
