She pulled her phone from her pocket, looked down, “Yes. Yes, I do.”
“You’re in charge of communications. Call 911 and give them this location. Answer their questions. Stay on the line.”
Rylee angled down so she and the man were face-to-face. “Sir, my name is Rylee, and my friend is Neesa. We’re getting you help, and we’re not going to leave you. Right now, I’m going to sit behind you and bend my legs to make a backrest. I want you in a semi-sitting position. Neesa down there is going to bend your legs and help you hold them in place so we can take the strain off your heart as much as possible.” Rylee lifted her chin to Neesa.
Neesa had steadied the man in the W configuration to wait for EMT help.
“And we’re focusing on our breath,” Rylee told the man. “We’re slowing the inhale. We’re exhaling longer than we’re inhaling, so we don’t hyperventilate. We’re breathing together.” Rylee breathed through her mouth, exhaling onto the man’s neck so he could have a focus point and so he could feel her rhythmic breathing. “In for four. You’re breathing into your abdomen, not your chest. Exhale slowly for six.”
His breath whooshed out.
“That’s fine,” Rylee soothed. “We’re trying again. In two, three, four. Trying to hold for a second. Good and exhale for six.”
The breath came out to the count of one.
“Sir, what’s your name? Is there anyone I can call?” Rylee asked.
The man weakly lifted his arm with his cell phone aglow.
Neesa reached for the phone. “You’re on the line with someone?”
“Here we go,” Rylee said, “focus on my words, breathing in for four.”
Neesa put the phone to her ear. “Hello?” She held. “Sir, I’m on the scene of a cardiac episode in the Metro. Can you tell me the name of the man you were speaking with?” Neesa turned to Rylee. “His name is Benjamin Burnett. Everyone calls him Benny.”
“We’ve got you, Benny,” Rylee said, snagging her own phone from her purse. “You’re breathing.” She opened her clock app to the stopwatch and reached for the man’s wrist to count Benny’s erratic pulse.
While Neesa asked the person to stay on the line so they could ask questions if necessary, she rummaged in her purse, pulled out a pen and a piece of paper, and thrust them toward Rylee.
Rylee wrote the time and Benny’s pulse and breath counts. Then held the paper up so Bean Counter could see it.
Bean Counter lowered her voice and gave the 911 operator the numbers. After a moment, Bean Counter caught Rylee’s eye. “The paramedics are on their way. I’m staying on the phone.” She shifted her weight, seeming to plant herself on that spot.
While Rylee knew the first responders would race with screaming sirens and flashing lights, this was end-of-day Washington, D.C., so cutting a path through traffic-clogged roads was going to be a feat.
A lone Metro officer snaked her way through the crowd and punctured through the death ring. There, she bent to see what was going on.
Rylee said, “It’s inconvenient, but this is a medical emergency. You need to close the platform.” As soon as thewords left her mouth, a Metro train slid loudly out of the tunnel and stopped with a hiss.
“Clear this platform and shut it down.” Rylee used her most commanding, military, give-me-no-shit voice, which always seemed to get results.
The woman was flustered as she talked into her radio, but she did what she could. People got off the train and were sent to the other end of the platform to exit. People got on the line and left.
Bean Counter stayed, phone shaking in her hand.
A nervous-looking guy with a fox-shaped face and a black leather briefcase stayed.
Two men built like whiskey barrels and a woman who fried her hair with a home perm, all wearing Paddy O’Donald T-shirts under black leather jackets, looked like they were heading to work but stayed to help.
Rylee turned to the bouncer-looking dudes, “Can you post at the stairs and let people know they can’t access this platform?”
“We’ll keep them out.” Both of them looked like they’d enjoy the job. And Rylee was grateful they happened to be around. Serendipity.
“I’m going to go get barriers to put up and make an announcement.” The Metro officer seemed happy to go take care of those tasks. No one was asking her to mouth-to-mouth a stranger.
Rylee thought that leaving the scene was probably contrary to the woman’s protocol, but if she was protecting this space and mobilizing help, that was a good thing.
There were now five on the platform. Benny, Neesa, Rylee, Bean Counter, and Briefcase.
