Chapter 27: Worse Than the Income Tax

It was 3:00 on Wednesday, April 26, a day when Amy and Jacob were home together, Melanie being off at her job. Amy roused herself after her nap, and went looking for Jacob. One by one, she went through the apartment, calling his name. Last was the master bedroom, and the attached “en suite” bathroom.

Agitated, nervous, she went to the (closed) bathroom door and knocked.

“Jacob? Jacob, please, I’m scared!”

After no response, she tried the door, which opened but the door swung only a foot or so before getting blocked. There was just enough room to get her head through the opening.

That’s when she saw him, motionless, sprawled across the floor. She could see most of his body, but not his head which was right up near the door.

“Jacob? Jacob, wake up!”

With no response, Amy pulled her head back and sat on the floor, with her back against the jamb. That’s when she saw the blood, oozing under the door and out into the bedroom.

Shrieking, Amy backed away, horrified. It was a few minutes before she could calm down enough to think.

“What should I do?” Call 911, the idea came to her. But the only phone in the house was in Jacob’s pocket, inaccessible.

“I have to go downstairs for help,” she thought. Which is what she did, being a smart and brave little girl.

Lane Dirksen was the complex superintendant on duty that day. He was in his fifties, balding, and annoyed. The reason didn’t matter. Then he was startled by light knocking on his door. Glancing up to his security monitor, he saw a little girl, about four feet (123 cm) tall, at his office door.

He rushed to open the door, then crouched down to be face-to-face with her. Seeing her tear-stained face, he asked, softly, “What’s wrong?”

“My Jacob is hurt, he’s not moving, and there’s, oh, oh, blood.”

That was it, she was wailing again.

“Please, little girl, don’t be sad. What’s Jacob’s last name?”

“Um, he’s a Cat. But no tail.”

“Jacob Cat? Oh, I get it. He’s in his apartment?”

“Yes, please, help him!”

“Go sit in my big chair while I get on the phone.”

The fire department arrived first and assessed the situation. The captain immediately called for the chainsaw from their truck. “We need access, and fast, there’s a lot of blood. Gary, go down to the rig and using that radio, tell dispatch we need an ambulance pronto. Sheila, bring up the chainsaw, and Gary, bring the axe.”

With haste, the firefighters cut through the bathroom door, from the top all the way to the bottom, then removed the free three-quarters of the door (with the knob) leaving a short flap remaining on the hinges.

Examining Jacob, they could see a scalp laceration on the right side (this time) of his head. They were able to put down some towels to protect the linens and then move him to the bed.

They had no way of knowing that Jacob was still anemic after his car accident, but he was definitely pale (despite his Mediterranean coloring) and his condition was quite serious. To their credit, the EMTs gave him just a minute’s once-over, and swiftly transferred him to a gurney and the back of their ambulance.