14
Tammy
A scream.
I was out of my room and down the stairs before I even realized it was my mother’s voice.
In the kitchen, the refrigerator door was open. My dad’s legs rested flat across the floor. His chunky Reebok sneakers. Mulch caught between its shoelaces. A series of dull thuds. My mother’s fist pounding against a broken drum. ‘Tongheng,’ my mom yelled. ‘Tongheng!’ Her voice trembling as she tried to shake his body awake again.
It was me who dialed 911. The operator sounded like she had just woken up from a nap. I repeated my address twice. ‘Hurry, my father is dying,’ I said.
It took the paramedics thirteen minutes to arrive. They rushed into the kitchen with a gurney. My father had stopped breathing and my mother was performing CPR. I winced at the cracking sounds as she p
