—un deux trois quatre cinq six sept huit neuf dix onze douze treize quatorze quinze seize dix-sept dix-huit dix-neuf vingt vingt-et-un vingt-deux vingt-trois vingt-quatre vingt-cinq vingt-six vingt-sept vingt-huit vingt-neuf trentre—
“DOMINIQUE!” she screamed.
She leaned down and gave her two more breaths.
Un deux trois quatre—
There was a knock on a door.
She kept pumping.
She heard the beep and the sliding door and the footsteps on the carpet. He stopped at the doorway to the bedroom.
“Meu Deus…” he said under his breath.
She looked up. He had acne all over his face and his hotel-shirt was slightly untucked.
“AMBULANCE!” Aimée shouted in English.
The young man began nodding but stood still.
Aimée crawled over to him and started pushing at his legs, until he stumbled back, then ran off. She turned towards Dominique and put her palms to her chest again and began to pump. Droplets rolled off her and hit Dominique’s chest, and slid down her ribs. Aimée thought, why is she sweating?
Un deux trois quatre cinq six…
“Please, please, please, please.”
Another droplet hit Dominique’s neck and rolled down into the dip between her collarbones. Aimée drew her hand to her face and realised that the droplets were tears coming from her own eyes. She smeared her cheeks dry and wiped her nose against the back of her hand, then leaned back down and gave Dominique two more breaths.
“Please…”
Aimée took two fingers in a hook and pushed them to the back of Dominique’s throat, feeling the mucus gathered there, fishing to the right then to the left, but Dominique wouldn’t lurch or vomit. She took her fingers out and grabbed Dominique by her shoulders, shaking, and screaming at her face.
“DOMINIQUE!!”
The whirling sound of the ambulance filled the street. More footsteps. The manager was pacing, pushing the young clerk out of the way. A dark-skinned woman with a fringe, and a blue-eyed, red-bearded man behind her, both wearing forest-green trousers and a matching button-up short-sleeve shirt, tucked in and belted.
“Fala Português?” the woman said, leaning down.
“I don’t speak Portuguese!” Aimée yelled back. “We’re on holiday here!”
“Please, Madame,” the man said in a nasal tone, buzzing his consonants. “Please, move aside.”
Aimée looked up at the man, but all she could see was the patch above his heart with the thin red snake.
The woman touched her shoulder and repeated, in a more determined tone, “Please, Madame, come here, Madame…” She pulled Aimée up and led her away from the listless body of Dominique lying on the rose carpet.
The man was already on his knees, his fingers at Dominique’s neck, then wrist.
Aimée screamed from behind the woman, “I checked already!”
“Are you a doctor?” the woman asked in a soft voice.
“No… but… my father is… I—” she began pushing past the woman, yelling, “I already checked all that, please, please, she’s going to die!” The woman held her back by her shoulders. It was almost a hug.
“I understand, Madame. Please help us. Can you tell me what medication this woman has taken?”
“It’s not ‘this woman’! She’s my wife!” Aimée screamed, trying to see beyond the woman to what the man was doing on the floor with Dominique.
“I understand. Can you please tell me what medication your wife has taken?”
“I… don’t know… I don’t know…”
The man was unzipping a pouch and getting the defibrillator out. He stuck the wires on her chest, then on her side. Aimée was trying to nudge herself past the woman, looking over her shoulder into the bedroom.
“Clear,” the man pronounced in Portuguese and Aimée saw Dominique’s body jump up and fall back to the carpet.
The woman was suddenly holding a square packet of pills in front of Aimée’s face.
“Are these hers?” she asked.
“Uh… yes, they’re just… anti-histamines, they’re not… lethal…”
Then the woman was holding a cap-less empty plastic bottle of medication, unfamiliar to Aimée, the ingredients written on the label with bulky print, “m”s or “z”s or “d”s…
“And this, Madame?” the woman asked.
“Clear,” the man said again from the bedroom. Aimée jerked towards the doorway, she could see Dominique’s chest pulled up, then thrown back down against the rose-threaded ground.
“I… don’t… know,” Aimée was saying, trying to get past the woman, who kept trying to get her to sit down.
The woman pulled up her walkie-talkie and said something in a hushed Portuguese. Another man was coming in, wearing all forest green, along with the manager. The forest-green man had a stretcher. Aimée began to scream at the sign of the stretcher. Afaste-se, Madame, por favor, Step aside, she felt her eyelashes on fire, DOMINIQUE!! Estapa de lado, Madame, move aside, DOMINIQUE!! Aimée’s hands grabbing at things that turn soft, pillows, blankets, towels, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING Por favor, Madame, GET OFF ME, Por favor, DOMINIQUE PLEASE, Aimée’s reaching out her fingers, Meu Deus, PLEASE DON’T GO, Por favor, Madame! Then she’s gripping through forest-green fibres and thin red snakes, for the body, somewhere, within the leaves of hands, flesh, just beyond the fingertips, Dominique, fleeting across those woods, where rows of trees are scratching out the daylight from her eyes.
PART FOUR
The forest
Before Jan Zajíc, the second student, took the train to Prague and went into No. 39 on Wenceslas Square to set himself on fire, he wrote a letter to his family.
He ended the letter with, Say hi to the boys, the river and the forest.
Directions
Dominxxika_N39: At bus stop, there is another road. Road goes up, like hill. On one side, field is only ploughed dirt – nothing planted yet. Other side, bushes, one two three four five. Behind, farmhouse. Go up hill, stay on farmhouse side. Metal road barrier soon will break on this side. 500 metres in front of break, three small houses, red roof shingles. Go through barrier opening, follow row of tall trees.
0_hotgirlAmy_0: Okay.
Dominxxika_N39: Then you see wire fence. This is beginning of big hospital-bed plant. Follow fence line, but not touch fence (it is security, maybe electric shock I do not know), just follow fence line. Then it open on another road. So you get on that road. And there, one house, distance on hill, but has blue fence, close to road. This is my favourite fence, because wires are knit close together and when it rain, it make dew-drop pattern in fence like wall of tears. It is beautiful like u.
0_hotgirlAmy_0: *blush
Dominxxika_N39: Follow beautiful blue fence. Then fence end. It look like there is only big forest in front of you. But it is not true. Continue straight. Straight, straight, straight, into forest. Thick trees, dark, wet soil, muddy, be careful. On other side, you see the dirt path. The dirt path lead to my house.