Tug Turner
by Brian Taylor.
Chapter 2.
For a few moments there was an eerie silence. Then a thin red strand began rising lazily from Tug's head. It reached the surface and started to spread out across the pool. A cry of "Look! Blood!" caused a crescendo of wailing from teenage girls.
A boy's voice cried "Someone do something!"
It was Neil who leapt into action. "Call an ambulance!" he yelled as he kicked off his grey slip-on shoes and discarded his red woollen jumper. Then without more ado he jumped into the water - being careful, of course, not to jump on top of Tug. When Neil came to the surface all he could hear was a chorus of voices shouting "To your right." As he peered into the water he saw the distorted outline of Tug continuing his journey towards the bottom of the pool. Neil took a deep breath and swam down towards the body. The chlorinated water stung his eyes as he swam around to Tug's head. When he got there he rolled the body face-up, put his left arm under Tug's and kicked hard for the surface. As the pair broke into the fresh air there were loud cheers and several pairs of arms outstretched to help.
"No!" Neil gasped, "I'll take him to the shallow end. It’ll be easier to get him out there." With that, he changed his grip putting his left hand under Tug's chin. The pair moved slowly down the pool leaving a slick of blood behind them.
Five or six strokes later, Neil heard Dan yelling to him. "Neil! You should be able to stand up now. It's only a metre deep where you are." Neil allowed his feet to sink and sure enough they soon touched the bottom. Having got to his feet he towed Tug to the edge of the pool.
Just then Mr Gibbins-Smythe, arrived having been alerted by Gemma. "Let's get him out. Pronto!" he said, "and Gemma, go to the road to direct the paramedics."
"Be careful," protested Dan, "he fell very hard on his head and his back. He may be injured."
Gemma's dad slid into the water and told Dan to do the same. With Neil at Tug's head, Dan at his legs, and Mr Smythe in the middle, they carefully lifted Tug onto the side of the pool. It wasn't easy. Tug weighed a lot more than usual with his clothes having soaked up a lot of water.
As Mr Smythe clambered out of pool he gave instructions to Dan and Neil. "Let's roll him into the three-quarter prone position to drain his lungs." Tug's face was colourless and showed no hint of life. The only movement was a trickle of water flowing from the corner of his mouth. Mr Smythe checked that Tug's mouth was clear and that he hadn't swallowed his tongue. Then he put his ear to Tug's mouth to try to detect any breathing, and then his fingers on Tug's wrist searching for a pulse. "There are no vital signs." he said, "So, let's roll him onto his back … carefully! Dan! You give heart massage. I'll do mouth to mouth."
After a minute Tug was rolled back into the three-quarter prone position and more water drained from his mouth. After a short while he was rolled gingerly onto his back again for another minute's resuscitation.
At last, the reassuring noise of an ambulance siren was heard. Tug was once again turned onto his side to encourage more water to drain from his lungs. This time he gave a shudder and a cough and a gush of water spurted from his mouth.
"He's breathing." cried Mr Smythe triumphantly. And a sense of relief flooded the onlookers.
Seconds later, two green clad paramedics ran in. The first, a tall, thin black man, said, "Okay! He's ours now. Give us some space."
"What's his name and what happened?" said his partner as she knelt down at Tug's side and began opening her bag of medical equipment.
At the chorus of voices that ensued, "Just one of you." she said, "You'll do!" pointing at Dan.
"OK." said Dan, "Name's Tug … I mean James Turner. He was standing at the side of the pool when he lost his balance. As he fell, he smacked his head on the railing then dropped onto his back on the edge of pool before rolling into the pool and sinking. We saw blood then Neil here jumped in and saved him. We don't think he was breathing when we pulled him out so we gave him artificial respiration. Just as you were arriving he started breathing on his own. Quite a lot of water's come out of his lungs."
The paramedics checked Tug over quickly and expertly but couldn't get any response when they spoke to him. They put an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose then tied him into a stretcher and wheeled him to the ambulance still unconscious.
"Can I come with you too?" Neil asked. The paramedics agreed and gave him a blanket to wrap around himself. "Dan, can you let my parents know where I am … and Tug's."
Neil had never been in an ambulance with the siren going. In fact he'd never been in an ambulance at all. He sat opposite Tug watching the unconscious figure and praying to God that he would be okay.
When the ambulance arrived at Spurthorpe General A & E department, Tug was wheeled straight into a treatment room and Neil was directed to the Waiting Room. "There won't be any news for a while," said a friendly nurse, "but we'll let you know about your friend as soon as we can. It was a brave thing you did." She smiled, turned on her heels and was gone.
Neil went to a quiet corner of the room and prayed some more. He was totally unaware of his damp clothes or the pool of water that was forming at his feet. He was still lost in his own thoughts when his parents arrived. The first he was aware of it was when his dad sat down beside him, put an arm round his shoulder and said, "Thank God you're okay."
"Oh! My brave baby." fussed his mum
Neil was relieved his parents were there, but was embarrassed by their display of affection. He immediately began to tell them what happened. He hadn't been relating the evening's events for more than a minute or two when he noticed a plump, poorly dressed woman enter the Waiting Room and go up to the reception desk. As she rested her hands on the desk, Neil noticed her puffy disfigured hands and the worried look on her face.
Neil heard her introduce herself as Mrs Turner and say that she was looking for her son who'd been admitted after an accident. The receptionist told her to take a seat for a moment and as she turned and moved towards the seats, Neil got up and went over to speak to her. "Mrs Turner?"
"Yes!"
"My name’' Neil. These are my parents. I was at the party when Tug … errr James, had his accident and fell in the pool. I helped get him out."
"Is he going to be alright?"
"I can't say. He was still unconscious when they brought him in."
Neil sat down beside Tug's mum and told her all that had happened – all except the bullying that is.
Neil was just onto the trip in the ambulance when a doctor appeared and asked for Mrs Turner. "That's me." she said getting to her feet, "How’s my lad? Tell me he's alright."
"Your son has regained consciousness Mrs Turner. We've run some preliminary tests and as far as we can tell he has a twisted right knee, it's a little swollen, a very badly bruised back, but the X-rays show there is nothing broken; however, he will be in pain and very stiff for a few weeks. In addition there is a superficial cut to his scalp, but again a scan has determined that the skull is not fractured or cracked. There is however one problem. Your son can't see. There is no sign of damage to the eyes so his blindness may be temporary. After all, he took a nasty knock to head and was unconscious for about half-an-hour. We will be running more tests in the next few days but at moment only time will tell if the damage to his eyesight is permanent."
"Oh my poor boy! Can I go and see him now?" asked Mrs Turner.
"And me?" added Neil.
"Mrs Turner can go in now for a few minutes, but he turned to Neil, "it would be best if you left it until tomorrow. Young Mr Turner needs lot of rest right now."
With that the doctor turned, took Mrs Turner by the arm and ushered her through the double swing doors that led into the treatment rooms.
"C'mon then son. Let's go home." said Neil's dad, "You could do with a hot bath and a good night’s sleep."
Neil didn't sleep at all well that night. He tossed and turned. His mind couldn't stop going over the events of the previous evening. It was like watching the same film over and over again. Eventually, he could stand it no more. He slipped out of bed and tip-toed downstairs for an early breakfast of Crunchie Nut Cornflakes and coffee.
When he got back to his bedroom, Neil saw that it was still only twenty to seven. So, he slid between the sheets, which were still warm, and closed his eyes. However, he couldn't blot out 'The Rescue of Tug Turner'. "Oh! What's the use?" he muttered to himself as he reached out and switched on his bedside lamp. He extracted his Bible and Daily Reading Notes from underneath the alarm clock and began to read. He didn't get far. The second Bible verse he read seemed to yell at him from the page, 'Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.' "Oh God! It's Tug again isn't it? Isn't praying for him enough? I did that last night. Do I have to love him as well … whatever that means?"
"Yep!" came the reply, "You certainly do."
"How? Loving another boy is soppy."
"Praying for him was a good start. But there's more."
"What do you mean more?"
"Well, you love your mum don't you?"
"Yes! Of course."
"What if it had been her instead of Tug?"
"I know what I'd do if it were mum. But that's different."
"Is it? If you know what you'd do for your mum, you know what to do for Tug."
Suddenly, Neil seemed to come to. He couldn't believe he was having such a conversation. And anyway, who was the other person in this conversation? He began to wonder whether he'd been talking to himself or … could it have been God putting those words in his mind? He didn't get an answer. He was snatched from his thoughts by the sudden ringing of his alarm. It was time to nab the bathroom before anyone else. He stopped the alarm, replaced his Bible and notes, and hopped out of bed. On his way along the landing, he paused at the airing cupboard to grab his towel then locked himself in the bathroom.
It has to be said, Neil was a little vain. He took great care over his appearance - especially his hair. With the help of a tube of gel, Neil eventually created the spiky effect he wanted but not before his sister had banged on the door demanding access to the toilet.
To be continued ...
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