papillonConsumer Buying Guide annual; “That or the one Consumer Reports puts out,” which the store also had, but it was more expensive and didn’t seem to have as much. She wanted to replace their broken-down drier and was also looking into buying a minivan, then selling the two-door they have, because it would be more comfortable for the family and also because of all the accessories she has to take with her when they go out: this elaborate Swedish walker with a basket and seat; wheelchair sometimes when they go to places — museums, theaters, zoos and parks — where she has to do a lot of getting around; eventually a motorized cart, she suspects, which means a special lift or removable ramp. “Just looking ahead,” she said, “not deceiving myself, and a couple of companies — Chrysler, I know — are giving a five-hundred-dollar rebate on the lift, and I don’t know how long that’ll last. Maybe the response will be so great, or just nothing, that they’ll cut it off.” Older child found a book she’d always wanted, other one didn’t see anything she liked. “Good,” he said, “you did it right; didn’t see anything you liked, you didn’t buy. You’re not, as they say, a compulsive shopper.” Explained “compulsive” and said all this while they walked to the supermarket inside the mall, older child already reading her book along the way. Milk, yogurt, cheese, pasta, cabbage and beets, because he forgot to get them at the farmers’ market and his wife wants them to make borscht, some cleaning things, wax paper, bread for the kids, deli, seltzer in several flavors, juice concentrate. “Can anyone think of anything we need but didn’t get?” and the younger one said “Parakeet seeds, we’re all out,” and he said “Great; I’ll tell Blue you reminded me, and will he ever be appreciative. Also those treat sticks as a special treat after the bread he had to eat the last few days.” “And a light for my night light,” the older one said, and he said “You still need that thing?” “Yes, and Mommy said the little bulb in that little lamp by her bed went out too, so we can get them at the same place.” Got them, paid, when he was pushing the cart to the exit he looked at his watch. Why not give her another half-hour? More he gives, better rested she’ll be. Probably rested plenty already and maybe only now is just starting to work. Even if she only gets a half-hour in, it’ll be something, might satisfy her. “Mind if we stop someplace for coffee?” he said after he got the packages into the trunk. “I don’t want to,” the older one said. “We want to go home,” the other one said. “Please, I’m a little tired; I could use a quick pick-me-up like a coffee.” “You’ll get sick with all that coffee,” the older one said. “Mommy said you shouldn’t have so much, and you get too angry with it too.” “Not angry; nervous. But just now I need one. Sometimes an adult body does. I’m telling you, I know. And then with it, I won’t be too sleepy to drive.” So they went to a convenience store on the way home. He had a decaf — poured it himself when they weren’t looking, not that they’d know the meaning of the red handle of that pot, but they might ask; they shared a fruit drink and a packaged pound cake. “Listen, whatever I said before about no conspiracies, this time please don’t tell Mommy about all the cake I allowed you today. She’ll kill me.” They sat in the car in front of the store; then, to stop them from eating and drinking so fast, which when they were done they’d want to go straight home, he decided to start a conversation. “So, what did you both like best about today?” “It’s not over,” the older one said. “I know, but so far.” “The pizza and soda.” “Yes,” the younger one said. “Besides that,” and they both said the outdoor bakery at the farmers’ market. “Seriously, what else? Not just food,” and the older one said “The gift shop at the museum even if it didn’t have my key ring.” “I liked it when you went down the slide with us and then with me alone,” the younger one said. “Now you’re talking,” he said. “I liked it all but maybe the slide, going down with you two together, the most. That was like heaven, but the good heaven, where you’re alive — sliding down, my two darling girls in my arms in front of me. And it was also scary, we went down so fast.” “Yeah, maybe that was the best,” the older one aid. “And then the pizza and after that the French bakery.” Then they went home. Opened the door. The older girl did; he had two bags of groceries in his arms and was going to go back for more once he put these down in the kitchen. The older girl screamed. The younger one, behind him, yelled “What?” and squeezed past him and ran in, and then she screamed. He went in with the packages; they were both already beside his wife on the floor, plants they brought in, next to them. Her eyes were closed; are closed; blood all around her head and arm but not coming out of the gash in her head anymore. He puts the bags down on the dining room table near her, says “Oh no, oh God,” and yells “Go away, go away,” and they get up and jump back and start screaming, and he gets on the floor and says to the ceiling “What am I going to do, what am I going to do? — stop screaming, I can’t think,” and they stop and he puts his ear to her mouth. She doesn’t seem to be breathing. Turns her over on her back and puts his ear to her chest, to her mouth and nose, doesn’t hear or feel anything. Feels her wrist but isn’t sure he’d feel anything even if there is a pulse there, since he doesn’t know how to do it. He breathes into her mouth, hard, pulls away, breathes some more, pulls away, says to the older girl “Call Emergency, 911, tell them your mommy’s very hurt, unconscious, and to send an emergency ambulance right away. Right away. 911 and that she might not be breathing. Do it now, now,” and bends down and breathes into her mouth and calls her name after he pulls away, breathes some more into her and calls her name again and again. “Oh why did I stay away, why didn’t I come back?” he screams. Her walker’s on its side. She must have slipped while pushing it and fallen, and the walker slid away from her and hit something and fell over, or she just slipped and fell with it and hit her head hard on something, not the floor, or maybe just something sharp on the floor, because of that deep gash. Later she’ll say she doesn’t know how it happened: she was getting out of a chair, had her hands on the walker for support, and that’s all she remembers of it. “A towel, get a towel,” he yells to the younger girl, “and wet it good so we can wipe Mommy’s head — maybe that’ll help her — and did you call that 911?” he yells to the older girl and she says “Yes, they said they’re coming, they wanted to speak to you, but I said you were blowing air into Mommy. Is she going to die? Is she dead?” and he says “No, never, don’t think of it, go outside and wait for the ambulance and tell them this is the house. Wave to them, make sure they see you,” and the younger girl’s brought the towel, and he wipes his wife’s head and face with it and breathes into her mouth, feels for her heartbeat, nothing seems to be there, breathes into her again and listens for her breath, nothing, calls her name, shakes her shoulders, yells “When will they come? — call them again — you,” to the younger girl, “dial 911 and give them our name and address and say we called before and ask when they’re coming,” and she does. The emergency team comes about ten minutes after his older daughter first called them, and they put some machines on his wife and revive her, and he puts his hand on her temple and feels the pulse, and they say she probably never stopped breathing, it just must have seemed that way to him because her breathing and heartbeat were so low or he wasn’t listening or feeling at the right places and that his mouth-to-mouth resuscitation probably helped rather than hurt, though sometimes it can do the reverse. She’s taken to the hospital. When she goes she’s smiling at them and muttering something they don’t understand except for the word “outside.” He leaves the kids with friends for a couple of hours and goes to the hospital. She’s sleeping but not in a coma and will most likely be her old self tomorrow though with a tremendous headache, the doctor tells him. Then he picks up the kids, goes home, brings the rest of the bags in from the car, has to throw away a few things that spoiled, like milk and deli meat, makes them supper and himself a drink and sits down at the table with them.