I couldn’t see well from where I was, and it took only a few seconds to get out on the street. The paramedics and firefighters might not be fond of people watching, but I stood there by the wall to keep from being in their way. The police car had stopped a couple of houses down the alley and one officer, a woman, was watching what was going on. A couple of beach goers got on the street and then turned back to come from the other side.
The events developed fast. I saw Phillip coming out of the garage and holding the door that connected it with his house. Somebody on a stretcher was carried out to the ambulance. The young man clutched his hands on top of his head in desperation. “Is she going to be OK?” “We’ll see more results at the hospital,” the paramedic answered. “I’m coming with her,” my neighbor continued getting on one of the motorbikes. The firetruck left to make room for the ambulance to get on the main road.
I crossed the alley behind the ambulance while somebody was closing the vehicle’s doors.
“Phillip,” I called, “do you need my help?”
The man put his helmet on and waved his hand, “No.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
He started the engine and waved again. I was sure he couldn’t hear me. And I realized it was pretty unlikely for me to get behind him on the motorbike. I said a quick prayer for the person in the ambulance and for the whole situation, and watched the empty street going back to normal. If normal was a dear one who had a heart attack.