He started to turn to say something, but the pain stopped him so he nodded his head slightly and struggled first with the knob, then leaning his weight against the door slowly opened it, crack by crack, the brightness of the street slicing its way into the bar and his eyes, continuing to push the door even though blinking his eyes against the light was painful, then stopped momentarily when he heard Darryll say, You be cool, man, hear?
Yeah, you be one righteous dude—chuckling.
You need somethin you just give a holler, hear?
Bobby nodded slightly then eased his way out the door into the sudden brightness, noise and energy of the street.
The 4 men watched Bobbys exit, squinting against the light, their eyes opening as the door clicked shut returning the bar to its comfortable darkness. They stared at the door for a moment, then looked at each other and smiled, Sheeit, thas the most sober I ever see you be Darryll. Marv refilled their glasses and they continued to look at each other, smiling, grinning, heheheheing…Gauddamn….Yeahhhh….
Bobby lowered his head against the glare of the sun and the stares of the people, able to walk down the street very slowly, with just a little weaving, staying close to the buildings in case he might suddenly need support. Every step, every breath painful, not knowing if walking or breathing was more painful, but he continued moving, wanting to get to the abandoned buildings cross-town as soon as possible, not wanting any hassles with the cops, but unable to move faster than a goddamn kid stumbling after his mommy, yet his body was already covered with sweat and it burned like a muthafucka, every scrape and cut on fire. After just a couple of blocks he wanted desperately to stop and sit down on a stoop but knew he couldnt afford to, that hed freeze to the steps and never get his ass up and before you knew it somebody be callin the man an he get his ass in deep shit, so he forced himself to keep moving, to keep putting one foot in front of the other, one agonizing step at a time….
eventually becoming aware of more garbage on the streets, of abandoned and stripped cars, boxes, crates and debris from all over the fuckin world, and he carefully picked his away around and over the accumulation of years of refuse and knocked into the railing on the side of the steps going down into the cellar of one of the many abandoned buildings, carefully clutching the railing as he slowly descended, easing his foot down gently on the next step, panting, sweat rolling like fire down his face and the rest of his body, all of his body so wet he looked for puddles of water on the ground. He reached the bottom and the sudden shade was so refreshing he had to lean against the wall catching his breath…then inched his way into the increasing darkness and coolness of the cellar…
in time reaching an area with broken cardboard cartons and old rags and leaned against a wall and slowly and carefully lowered himself to the floor, leaned against the wall, lifted his legs, rested his arms on his knees, then his head on his arms, and fell into sleep.
The paramedics tried to take Marias hands from her face and calm her and listen to the women holding her who were trying to tell them what had happened, twisting and spinning in erratic circles as Maria fought them, the women refusing to let her go, the paramedics continuing to reassure the women and Maria and eventually tugged Maria free of the women as she continued to scream and jerk around until one of the paramedics managed to hug her and force her hands down and the other one winced as he saw the burns on her face and quickly gave her an injection, telling her it was alright, theyd get her to the hospital in just a few minutes and everything would be alright, just take it easy, we/re here to help you, just let us take care of you…itll be alright…just hold on…Maria continuing to scream until the injection took effect and soon she was hanging from their arms and they carefully put her in the ambulance and laid her down on the stretcher and strapped her securely and started the weaving, wailing drive through traffic to the hospital where she was wheeled into the ER and started hours of waiting, strapped to a gurney in the hall, when the pain started pushing through as the painkiller started wearing off and Maria rolled her head back and forth, groaning, trying to free her hands and panicking when she was unable to move, her moaning growing louder and more desperate the more the pain increased and she started crying with pain and fear and in time a doctor looked at her, and the report, and told the attendants to wheel her into a treatment room, the nurses watching the gurney being placed under the light, barely hearing Marias moaning and crying above the noises that were a constant part of their working day, the screaming and yelling, the pleading, begging, demanding, the total terror in the faces of family members, and one nurse gently held Marias head while the other one assisted the doctor, Keep still honey so we can help you—but Maria was completely controlled by her agony and yelled and screamed and thrashed her head around, struggling against the straps, and the doctor yelled to keep her head still for krists sake, I cant do a fucking thing if you dont keep her from—you have to stay still or I cant help you—shit, look at this mess—wheres that fucking ointment for krists sake and give her 75 mg of Demerol…and soon they became aware that Maria was quieting and her head barely moved and only low moans were intermittently coming from her throat, Well, guess she aint no addict, 75 mg of Demerol never put a junkie out—and the nurse held Marias head as the doctor applied the ointment as rapidly as possible—jesus krist, just a fucking kid and some asshole throws lye in her face O shit, it looks like she may have gotten some in the eye—someone stuck their head in the doorway—Make it quick, we got a jumper whos breathin but just barely—Yeah, sure—and he finished medicating Maria and yelled for an orderly to get her to the burn ward, and filled in the forms and clipped them to her chart and Maria was wheeled out the door, still asleep, and started the journey to the 9th floor burn ward.
Maria was put into a bed and left in the merciful arms of sleep.
Neighbors told Marias family what had happened, and a friend watched the 2 younger children while Marias mother and grandmother rushed to the hospital, getting to her bed as Maria was in the process of regaining consciousness, almost collapsing when they saw her head completely covered with bandages, only tiny slits for her eyes and mouth, moving slightly and moaning from time to time, then going back into unconsciousness. A nurse was taking her blood pressure, Marias mother looking at her pleadingly, then at Maria, and asking in her limited English how she was. The nurse wasnt certain what the woman was saying but she understood the look of fear on her face and did the best she could to explain that she was very sick but would be alright, nodding her head and saying, Bueno, bueno, the mother nodding in return, Si, si, then turning to the grandmother and telling her in Spanish that Maria would be alright, both women crossing themselves and sitting next to the bed and keeping a silent vigil until Maria awakened. They could sense the pain of the other patients, hearing the moans and prayers, the anguish in many different languages, but their concern for Maria kept them focusing on her, and they watched her chest move slightly with each shallow breath, their hands folded on their laps. At first the women started to reach out to her whenever she moved, but soon stopped when they realized Maria was unaware of their presence so they sat silent, immobile, hands folded on their laps, the rhythm of their bodies and minds attuned with that of Marias breathing, less and less aware of their surroundings, seeing and hearing only the sobbing breath going into their little girls body, and as it left bringing the pain and terror that frail body and frightened mind was experiencing, the sense of that pain increasing with each breath as did the movement of her body, the increase imperceptible at first as they continued to hypnotically stare at her, but then the pained movements of Marias body became obvious and they simultaneously adjusted themselves on their chairs and the grandmother placed her hands on Marias legs, still praying, and her mother brushed the hair back from Marias face, trying to see her eyes, trying to take her childs pain away by gently rubbing her shoulders, holding her hands, softly talking to her, trying to soothe away the fear with gentle and loving words to her daughter, My little girl, it is a
lright, momma is here precious jewel of my heart—and she looked at Maria with a tenderness that somehow escaped the anguish that came from the marrow of her bones and felt like it would consume her in time, but now she would not allow that because her little princess needed the love from her mothers heart and so she would postpone her pain, for now, so she could soothe away her daughters pain and she gently rubbed Marias arm, and her heart with her words, feeling her words and her love being absorbed by Maria and believed in its power, yet Marias uneasiness increased and her body shook from time to time with sobs and pain and now the sobbing breath was leaving her body spastically, sometimes twisted with a whine and a choking moan and her mother told the grandmother she would go for a nurse and left the room, the old woman continuing to keep her hands on Marias legs and praying.
The sounds of Marias pain were still filling her mothers mind as she looked around desperately, not knowing what she was looking for, knowing only her baby was in pain and needed something and there must be someone here who could help her, a doctor, a nurse, someone, but her babys cries distorted her vision and she continued looking up and down the corridor, starting to move in one direction, then another, until finally she noticed the nurses station down the hall and she rushed in that direction and almost bumped into a nurse, instantly talking very rapidly in Spanish, the look of confusion on the nurses face increasing with each word, Do you speak English? Marias mother stared at her for a moment…O si, si, is Maria—twisting her hands in an attempt to find the right words in a language alien to her—my dau…girl—looking toward Marias room and gesturing, tears coming from her blinking eyes, trying to blink understanding to herself and the nurse, her desperation increasing with each breath, the nurse reassuring her that she would have the doctor see Maria just as soon as possible, and Marias mother rushed back to the room and continued soothing her daughter, telling her everything would be alright as the grandmother continued praying, her hands on Marias legs, Maria recognizing her mothers voice and trying to reach out to her but was unable to move her arms but the mother leaned close to her little ones face and continued to speak soothingly to her as Maria cried and wanted to hug and kiss her mother but the pain in her face made that impossible so the mother gently rubbed Marias shoulders and arms and kept her face just inches away from Marias and told her that momma was there and would take care of her little princess and Maria wept and simply said momma, momma, momma, the old woman holding tight to the legs of her granddaughter, silently praying, the words louder and louder in her head to disperse the confusion and pain of seeing this little girl in so much agony, her face all bandages, only tiny slits for eyes that were pouring tears and though the eyes were almost invisible the old woman could see the agony and fear in them and so she closed hers from time to time, trying to stop trying to understand how such a thing could happen to someone who every morning brought her grandmother a bowl of hot coffee and a piece of soft bread, what kind of world was this that threw fire into her little girls face, but she could not always keep her eyes from looking for Marias and feeling the pain fill her heart as the bandages became more and more damp from Marias weeping, and the mother told her little princess to give her the pain and she would wear it for her and give it to the Blessed Virgin who always looked over her and her precious baby, and the mothers soothing voice reassured and relaxed the girl lying on the bed and though she choked and jerked and shivered from time to time from crying, and moaned with pain and panic, she did become a little more relaxed and in time stopped tossing and twisting and moved only slightly as she continued weeping and calling to her mother as the women continued praying and soothing….
Moishe looked down at Bobby, watching and listening to him breathe, studying his face, at first thinking he was just another drunk when he noticed the smell of liquor coming from Bobby, but he somehow didnt feel he was. His face, though badly beaten, didnt seem to be the face of a drunk. Moishe looked at his clothes, more than his face, to figure his age, and it seemed he was still in his early teens, and he wondered what a teenager was doing here. The kids were always beating each other up, but they never came here…actually just about no one ever came here, the entire area for miles around being deserted and, in some ways, resembling Europe right after the war but that was another time, another life…hopefully. But what was this boy doing here? Moishe looked up at the ceiling for a moment, then closed his eyes and sighed.
The Willow Tree: A Novel Page 2