“And you came on here?”
“Well, I finally did. I had to go back and around and every whichway—and I climbed in a window that was too little for some men—because they were thinking of climbing in and couldn’t.” She added, “Colored men. They boosted me.”
“I don’t know who we could send,” Alice Groves murmured. “Could you tell the nurses where her car is and what it looks like?”
“Oh, yes. It’s a green Buick sedan and it’s just this side of St. Angelica Street, a little on the right.”
One of the nurses said, “Let her die there, the old rip!”
Alice Groves shook her head. “She—her husband—built us this place. And she maintained it. And she was coming to us for help.”
“She didn’t know she was coming,” Nora said honestly. “She was brought.”
Alice smiled. “Miss Elman, see if Dr. Symes will come off a ward and take a bag and try to reach her. He used to play football, and if anybody could get through….”
Another doctor, a colored man, in white, white clothes bloodier than any butcher’s, leaned from the operating room doorway. “Miss Groves, could you please! We’ve got a bad head wound here…”
Alice nodded. “In a sec!” She addressed the nurse again. “Have we got a bed anywhere—crib—cradle—mattress…?”