To her great relief, he was warm and still breathing. “Papa, wake up.”
She shook him, but he remained unresponsive.
“Papa!”
Still nothing.
Feeling as if she’d been physically struck, Emma turned and ran. She barreled down the stairs to the telephone in the kitchen and called Abigail.
“I don’t know what’s wrong!” Abigail snapped after trying everything to rouse Emma’s father, including pinching and shaking him. “Has he been sick lately? Complaining of a headache or anything else?”
“Nothing,” Emma said. “He was fine when he went to bed last night.” She imagined the worst. “Do you think he’s had a stroke or a heart attack?”
“I don’t know.”
“Wait ...,” Emma said, thinking. “He was bitten by a seal yesterday. Could that have something to do with it?”
“Where?”
“North Beach.”
“No! I mean where on hisbody!” she barked. “Show me.”
Emma pulled the covers back and raised the hem of her father’s pajama bottoms. “Right here.Oh, God!”
The flesh around the small wound was dark red and swollen, and an ugly rash was traveling up the length of his calf.
“It’s infected,” Emma said.
Abigail examined the area. “It’s worse than that. I’m not even sure what this is.”
Emma stared at the red blotches, and her breath came short. This wasn’t happening. She shook her father again, more violently this time. “Papa, wake up!”
In a fit of anxiety, Abigail squeezed her hair in her fists. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him!”
Panic was getting them nowhere, so Emma held up a hand and fought for calm. “Let’s think this through. If it’s an infection, does he need penicillin?”
A medical professional Emma was not. She had no idea if that was an appropriate treatment, but she needed Abigail to focus on a solution, not the problem, because the problem was terrifying.
Abigail stared at the unsightly rash. “It could be a putrid ulcer. Or galloping gangrene. He might have sepsis.”
“I don’t know what any of that means,” Emma said with frustration.
Abigail locked eyes with her. “It means he needs to get to a hospital.”
This, at least, was something Emma could attack. She hurried toward the stairs. “I’ll call Frank.”
As chief wireless operator, Frank would contact the mainland, and if the weather cooperated and the beach was stable enough to use as a runway, an airplane might come.
Part Two
Wild Horses
Chapter 10
October 10, 1946
Dear Captain Harris,
