The thunder of the fountain’s falling water and chatter of their voices and laughter echoed on the high walls.
Augustine was holding her hand and kind of leading the way to the crystal pyramid embedded in the courtyard. She wasn’t struggling to keep up, but she was teetering and bobbling along on her high heels. She might have been chilly, except that Augustine had made sure that she had worn the thick coat that he had bought for her.
As they were hurrying across the cement landscape, a child’s urgent shriek pierced the air from one of the fountains.
Dree’s head popped up. That wasnotan angry kid being repressed by their parents.Thatpiercing wail meant extreme distress. She’d worked in the peds ER for long enough toinstantlyknow the difference.
She let her fingers slip out of Augustine’s hand as she found herself instinctively sprinting toward the child’s cries.
Heavy footsteps pounded behind her. Augustine had made the same turn, albeit a moment later.
As a nurse, Dree’s instincts to take care of an emergency were faster than most people’s.
Augustine asked, “Where is she? I can hear her, but where is she?”
Dree didn’t waste time debating as she sprinted by running on her toes over toward the fountains.
She saw the tiny hand dart above the side of the fountain and then disappear as she approached.
Dree dodged through people who were turning and surveying the area for the source of the wails, but they couldn’t pinpoint the scream like she had.
She leaped at the low concrete wall surrounding the fountain with her arms stretched in front of her and scooped the tiny child just as she was falling back into the water again.
Augustine was right behind her. He grabbed Dree’s waist and hips before she toppled into the water head-first, potentially hurting the child more.
Instead, she managed to hold the baby under the child’s armpits, keeping the child’s head above the water where they could scream their lungs out.
The loud crying was just fine with Dree. She said to Augustine, “Haul me back. I’ve got them.”
Augustine wrapped one arm around Dree’s waist and hoisted her into the air, grabbing her and the baby together in his arms to keep them both safe. He set her on her feet, holding them together but not squishing the baby.
When Dree’s knees buckled underneath her, Augustine went down with her and controlled their fall so that they all settled safely to the cement.
Dree was concentrating on the child, listening to the baby’s distressed cries and trying to determine whether the baby was injured or merely terrified. She gently palpated the baby’s head and neck first, feeling for gross injuries, but couldn’t find anything. A faint sheen of blood on her fingers was most likely due to a scrape on the baby’s hand, probably from the sharp edge of the fountain’s concrete wall.
Augustine had withdrawn his arm from around the baby, though he kept it around Dree’s shoulders. He was murmuring to the baby in what Dree thought she recognized as French, but she was busy assessing the child’s injuries.
The baby looked up at Augustine, their dark eyes still swimming in tears, but they were listening to him. The child’s dark hair formed spirals that streamed water from the ends.
With the child no longer shrieking, Dree made a thorough physical assessment of the baby, checking their pulse, respiration rate, color, and other indicators of general health. The toddler had a few scrapes and reddened areas that would probably become bruises. The diaper was soaked through and holding a lot of water from the fountain, which was probably why the baby had been unable to stand and kept falling back under the water.
Dree updated Augustine with the baby’s vitals and general condition of health. He nodded and kept murmuring in French to the child.
When she examined the child’s limbs, Augustine held the child at their joints so Dree could stretch and evaluate the child’s chubby arms and legs.
General good condition, well-nourished, no signs of ongoing trauma or abuse other than the recent accident.
Augustine turned away from the two of them and shouted something in French to the crowd. Dree recognized the word“Maman,”which is pretty universal in most languages.
Weirdly, no one came forward to claim the baby.
She said, “We should dial 911, right? You should probably do that. I still don’t have cellular service, and I can’t remember how to speak French right now,” Dree said to Augustine.
He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “In France, the emergency number is 112,” he said as he dialed.
He spoke rapid French to whoever was answering the phone.
Dree got the baby’s attention and carefully pressed on the child’s chin to take a look inside their mouth. Nothing remarkable. The child seemed to be in good health. She wished she had her medical bag, though.
