Yes, let's approach the cops CALMLY.
All right, the talking it is, but at least we could go for a little arm waving? Please?
I wasn't worried about the arm waving; I was worried about the running. Cops tend to view someone running straight at them, screaming, as either aggressive behavior or someone running from criminals. Either way we wouldn't get to a hospital.
But waving it is. Oh, and talking to the cops.
You open the door.
“Sir, we got a call about a...” the officer trails off. “Sir, are you feeling all right?” Over her shoulder, the male officer blanches.
“Yeah. Uhm. No.” You explain.
The officer in charge is wearing white gloves, you notice. You've never been fond of procedurals, but you think that might be in case you're covered in bedbugs. The police stare, like they've forgotten why they came here. “You see I don't exactly know how I got here.”
“All right,” she says, “Can we come in?”
“Oh.” you say, “Uh, yeah, sure, make yourself at home, I guess.”
“What's your name, sir?”
“Thomas.” you say. Then you go to shake hands. It's only polite. The handshake is awkward. The whole situation is awkward.
You back up, and then sit on the couch. They linger by the door for a moment before stepping inside. Their hearts beat slightly faster. “Do you live here?”
“I don't know.”
“You don't know.”
“No.”
“No, you don't live here?”
“No, I don't know if I live here.” you reply, with a little emphatic arm waving.
“Are you...are you all right? Sir?”
“Yeah, I think so. Kinda. Not really. I don't remember very much. I think I need to go to the hospital.” This paired with more arm waving.
“Do you think you hit your head or something?” the male officer finally pipes up.
“I, uh, I don't remember.”
Very cautiously, the two officers step forward. The body language is all wrong. They aren't taking charge. They're almost timid. “Nothing to drink?”
“I don't know. I don't think so.” If you flap your arms any harder, you'll achieve liftoff.
The female officer turns to the male one and says “He doesn't look all right to me.” and then she turns to you. “I'm going to take your pulse.”
“
Are you going to give it back?”
“What?”
“Nothing. Go ahead.”
"So just, I need you to be calm. All right?"
You drop your arms, and very carefully she takes it, feels the inside of your wrist. Her expression becomes serious. A whisper gets caught in her throat.
“Just, stay there for a moment. We're going to help you.”
They leave, hastily. You hear them go to the car, dig around inside it. “What in the world?” the male officer asks. “Incredibly weak pulse. I don't know how he's still talking. Probably drugs. He's lucid, but it doesn't look like he should be walking around. Maybe something like PCP?”
A moment of silence. The man says “Hey. Does this guy look familiar to you?”
Another pause. “Holy shit. It's the missing teenager from across the state.”
“We should call it in.”
“Yeah. Not now, he's in trouble. Once we're on the road.”
They come back in. They have a first aid kit with them.
What now?
>_