MATCHSTICK MEN: a Hunter Dane investigation
Page 16
"Yeah, you know. Kinda brushed your hair back. Kissed you on the forehead. He didn't tiptoe, but … I backed off and he came out real quiet. Never saw me."
"Hang on. Go back. He touched my hair?"
"Yeah, you know. Like people do."
Cam's eyes filled and spilled. "That son of a bitch bastard motherfucker, doing shit for my own good, I'm gonna make him pay so hard for this one!"
Patrick's eyes went wide, but his lips twitched with a secret smile. He picked Cam's phone up off the floor. It wasn't broken.
"You want me to find your charging cord?"
"Oh, hells yeah!" Cam said, eyes aglitter with anticipation and malice. "I have to find a sounding kit!"
Patrick laughed. "You don't need a phone for that." He leaned over and whispered, "This is a hospital. Surgical grade steel."
Cam went suddenly serious. "I have to find him, Patrick."
"You have to get well, first, Mr. Snow. Strong. Then you'll find him."
Cam nodded and laid back. Patrick took the male urinal from the holder and noted the amount. He went into the bathroom to empty it.
“I heard you’re going to be standing up, tomorrow,” he said.
Cam nodded. “Yeah, they want to scan the artery first. Then I get to start rehab.”
Patrick plugged in Cam's phone and left it on his tray within reach.
"Patrick? What do you think love is?"
"Taking care of people." He handed Cam his night meds and poured him a glass of water.
"That's all?" asked Cam, downing the pills and settling back.
Patrick went to the door and stripped off his gloves.
"That's everything."
He shut off the lights and slid the door closed.
And for the first time since the shooting, Camden Snow slept and did not dream.
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APPENDIX
"Pictures of Matchstick Men"
1968 Labels: Pye (UK), Cadet Concept (North America), Songwriter: Francis Rossi, Producer: John Schroeder
Lyrics:
When I look up to the sky
I see your eyes, a funny kind of yellow
I rush home to bed, I soak my head
I see your face underneath my pillow
I wake next morning, tired still yawning
See your face come peeking through my window
Pictures of matchstick men and you
mirages of matchstick men and you
All I ever see is them and you
Windows echo your reflection
When I look in their direction gone
When will this haunting stop
Your face, it just won't leave me alone
Pictures of matchstick men and you
mirages of matchstick men and you
All I ever see is them and you
You in the sky, you with the sky
You make me cry, your eyes
You in the sky, you with this guy
You make men cry, you lie
Pictures of matchstick men and you
mirages of matchstick men and you
All I ever see is them and you
PAINTINGS OF MATCHSTICK MEN
Going to Work (1943), commissioned by the War Artists' Advisory Committee L S Lowry - http://www.iwm.org.uk/collections/item/object/17026
Factory workers going to work at the Mather & Platt, Manchester, in the snow. 457 x 609 mm
Laurence Stephen Lowry RBA RA (1 November 1887 – 23 February 1976) was an English artist. Many of his drawings and paintings depict Pendlebury, Lancashire, where he lived and worked for more than 40 years, and also Salford and its surrounding areas.
Lowry is famous for painting scenes of life in the industrial districts of North West England in the mid-20th century. He developed a distinctive style of painting and is best known for his urban landscapes peopled with human figures often referred to as "matchstick men".
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/L._S._Lowry
ANSWER TO THE FOOTBALL IN THE UPRIGHTS PUZZLE:
(Matchstick Puzzles)