EPISODE 1 – WRONG REACTIONFestive events suddenly become dire, as inexperienced friends attempt to uncover the meaning of a cryptic phrase.
Festive events suddenly become dire, as inexperienced friends attempt to uncover the meaning of a cryptic phrase.
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Frat House Fright
WITHIN vintage two-story lime green Victorian architecture, this Saturday night, sips of beer provide inadequate hydration for the souls within. Music blasts while a crowd of young adults, generating clammy body heat, dance to retro boy-band tunes.
Entry is by invitation, with attendees bringing appetizers for admittance. An overabundance of cold, under-appreciated Middle Eastern, Asian, and Spanish cuisines covers countertops and tables.
Most college partygoers show off new dance moves while vocalizing the words to songs under flashing lights. Others canoodle within amber isolated corners.
Meanwhile, in a dimly lit living room corner, the emotional pendulum swings from jocularity to somber concern. Among gaudy and eclectic decorations a growing group of young men clamor around their new fraternity brother Ethan.
Charlie asks, “Ethan, buddy, what did you say again?”
“The imam fainted,” He utters in response while seated on a beer-soaked sofa behind a coffee table covered with snacks.
“Did you guys get that?” Charlie shouts to at least five other students standing around.
“It sounds like gibberish to me,” Marty replies. “Did he have any drinks?”
“I wasn’t watching.” Charlie sniffs his breath. “I smell beer on him. He’s a sophomore, so he isn’t old enough yet.”
“If he’s drunk, we should either let him sleep it off or carry him to the shower,” Marty suggests. “It looks like he’s going to puke!”
“Hurry him to the bathroom!” Charlie shouts.
In there, Ethan retches before getting his head over the toilet. “Bluah!”
“What a mess. Let’s clean this up and carry him back to the sofa,” Charlie urges.
“If he’s had too much beer, he needs food,” Marty suggests.
“Yeah, maybe he drank on an empty stomach,” Charlie concurs. “Here, buddy. Eat this stuffed potato.”
“The imam fainted,” Ethan utters again while taking a bite before doubling over, grasping his stomach as his head flops to one side.
Looming Medical Concern
The emotions of an early medical student, Samantha, swing from personal pleasure to active concern upon seeing the crowd of worried classmates. She pushes her way through the wide-eyed guys grasping their heads, endeavoring to discover what all the commotion is about.
The sight of Charlie patting Ethan’s face as if to revive him prompts her to ask, “Is he all right?”
“He’s not making sense. We think he’s drunk. I just gave him something to eat so he’d have some food in his stomach. Maybe we should get him some coffee.”
“If he’s drunk, coffee is the worst thing for him. Both alcohol and coffee dehydrate, causing common symptoms of drunkenness. Drinking plain water is better.”
Marty runs to get water while Samantha checks Ethan’s pulse. “Did he spit up the food?”
“No, well, yes. He did before I gave him some stuffed potato skins.”
“His pulse is a little thready. What did he say that made you worry?”
“He keeps saying the same thing. Listen. Hey buddy, do you want something to eat?”
“More the imam fainted,” Ethan mumbles.
“I think he’s trying to say he’s fainting,” Charlie suggests.
“Well, I’m no expert, but slurred speech can indicate either intoxication or a stroke,” Samantha advises. “We should call emergency services.”
“He’s too young for a stroke,” Marty responds in shock.
Samantha stresses, “Strokes can occur within infants. I’m not saying that’s what’s happening, but we should get some medical professionals to make an assessment.”
“If he dies in the frat living room, we might all go to jail! I’m dialing now. You guys, clear a path for the gurney and try to clean this place up.” Charlie then shouts to everyone in the house, “Party’s over. We have a man down. Cops are on their way.”
Anxiety robs the festive atmosphere as frat brothers worry about the outcome of a new member. While most who’ve been underage drinking flee, older classmates gather around for more details. Ethan continues mumbling while his head flops like a rag doll.
Urgent Carefulness
Paramedics arrive to check Ethan’s vitals while he repeats The imam fainted. An ominous gurney navigates around garbage on the floor from a rapid exodus of partygoers. Emergency medical technicians strap the patient down and wheel him off.
Samantha says, “I’ll ride to the hospital with him to make sure he’s all right.”
While sitting in the back of the ambulance speeding through intersections with lights flashing, Samantha gets an education in stabilizing a patient. Likely in her career, she will save and lose many patients. Even though she doesn’t have an active part in Ethan’s care, she feels an obligation to see that her friend lives.
Within the walls of the now eerie frat house, police officers ask the somber crowd, “Who’s in charge of this party?”
“I guess that would be me, sir. My name’s Charlie.”
“Were you serving alcohol here?” the deep-voice officer asks while looking around at all the red plastic cups on the floor, and smelling the putrid combination of beer, marijuana, incense, and Ethan’s puke.
“Well, yes. It was mostly a senior party, though.”
“Does anyone know the person the paramedics took away? Is he a senior?”
“His name’s, Ethan Balik,” Charlie responds. “He’s a sophomore—a new member of the fraternity, so not everyone is a senior. No one saw him drinking, but he could have helped himself.”
“I’ll need as much information as you can provide about him and your contact info as well.”
After completing the report, Charlie locks up the frat house and drives to the hospital with Marty. On Charlie’s conscience, the consequences of Ethan’s illness weigh heavier than the stuffed moose head marking the tragic location.
“As the party organizer, this is my fault for not designating anyone to check ages on ID cards and serve drinks.”
The two commiserate over the ramifications of unfavorable outcomes. After looping around several times, Charlie, unable to find a parking space, opts for valet service. They sprint through the automatic doors like antelopes, heads pivoting back and forth, seeking a familiar face. He embraces Samantha, still waiting in the lobby.
“Any updates?” Charlie asks with nervous perspiration soaking his shirt.
“Charlie, it’s good you’re here. They administered some medicine to expel the contents of his stomach. Through his mumbling, we couldn’t tell what he consumed. He’s now receiving some intravenous fluids. His parents should be here soon.”
“Are they supposed to pump the stomach of someone having a stroke?” Charlie asks with confusion.
“The doctors feel it’s something else. Take a deep breath and sit down.”
Continued…
Return twice weekly for miniseries. Any relation to actual persons or events is coincidental. Login provides the most immersive experience. About 2100 total words. Audio may include sound effects that alter reading time.
