The Memorist

Chapter 85

The Memorist Society

Thursday, May 1^st-5:47 p.m.

While the medics worked on her father, Meer stood in the small space with her back up against the wall feeling the rocks pressing into her. Why was it taking so long for them to turn to her and tell her he was fine, that they’d gotten here in time, that he’d had another attack but he’d be all right?

Another minute passed. Then another. Finally one of the medics stood and wearily walked toward her. Too slowly, as if this was an effort for him. At the same time she saw the others getting up. Why were they stopping?

Three steps and she was by her father’s side, holding his hand, waiting for his fingers to curl to meet hers.

“Daddy?”

Meer looked down at him but couldn’t see his face, didn’t understand at first that tears were making her whole world invisible.

“His heart…” the medic said.

None of the words made any sense.

“…was too weak to…”

Someone gently put a blanket around her shoulders. “You’re in shock and you have to stay warm,” she said. “Let me help you up. We need to move your father, now.”

“Where are you taking him?”

“To the hospital.”

“But I thought…” Meer’s heart banged against her rib cage. “He’s alive?”

She saw the reaction in the woman’s eyes. “I’m so sorry, no. We need to take your father to the hospital for the autopsy.”

“My father’s Jewish,” Meer protested. “Autopsies are against our religion. I need to talk to a rabbi.” She noticed the woman held her father’s watch and wallet. Suddenly his things and being able to hold them was all that mattered to her.

“Can I have those?” Meer asked.

“I’m sorry, we have to give them to the police. They’re waiting outside. You’re going to have to talk to them about the autopsy and about your father’s personal items.”