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“Should I get Bently?” Aspen asked.
“Not yet. Let’s just give her a few minutes. If it lasts longer, we’ll call an ambulance.”
“Should we try to hold her tighter?” Aspen asked, reaching out for Pippa’s clenched hand.
“No. We can hurt her if we try to stop the movements or get hurt ourselves. Just go in the truck and wait for me.”
“But, Dad—”
“Please listen to me.”
Aspen blinked, fear-stricken. He wanted to comfort her, but Pippa needed him right now. The door shut to the passenger side of his truck as his daughter’s wide eyes watched on. She had obviously grown attached to this woman in a short time.
“It’s okay. I got you. You’re safe.” Mason spoke the words, hoping he could comfort Pippa.
A small crowd had gathered around them.
“Her lips are turning blue!” a man across from him said.
“Someone call an ambulance!” A woman gasped.
“Just wait,” Mason instructed.
A few seconds later, the trembles subsided. Her body still twitched from time to time, and there was a pool of urine on the asphalt between her legs. He pulled off his flannel shirt and wrapped it around her.
What sounded like snoring came from her. Her muscles still twitched. He kept his hands under her head, even though the hot asphalt bit into his skin. A few minutes later, her breathing evened out and the blue faded from her now pink lips. He breathed a sigh of relief. The most dangerous part was over.
“Pippa?”
“Mmmgghh,” she answered, her eyes closed.
He wiped the drool from the side of her mouth and focused on the small crowd that had gathered. “It’s over, folks. She’ll be alright. Go back to your day.” He was sure the last thing Pippa would want was an audience when she came out of it. He waited a few minutes and tried again as her eyes flickered open.
“Can you tell me your name?” he asked.
“Uuughma.”
It wasn’t over yet.
He waited a few more minutes as her drowsy eyes stayed open. “Hey, you okay?”
Pippa blinked as if confused, her gaze darting around. “Mmm.”
“What’s your name?” Mason repeated.
“Piwa.” She struggled to sit up. “Off.” Pippa pointed to the empty space by her side. The dog listened immediately.
“Cheeh . . . me,” Pippa said before the dog sniffed her and then sat obediently by her side. “Good girl.”
Mason helped guide Pippa to a sitting position.
“You?” she asked. She seemed to be struggling to focus on him.
He opened his mouth and then closed it. She didn’t remember him? “I’m Mason Wright.”
Her lids remained half closed as if she were about to fall asleep.
“Do you want me to get you to the hospital?” he asked.
