WISHBONE

by Brooklyn Hudson

  Julien looked away from the disturbing x-rays. “They don’t strike me as very complex.”

  Rachael shot him a warning glance.

  The doctor laughed yet again. “No, I suppose they’re not. You’ll figure them out. No user’s manual required.” He took no offense to Julien’s petulance.

  He entered a closet off the far side of the room and reappeared with a pair of metal crutches. He scanned Julien and guessed at his height then adjusted their length with a few quick snaps. He leaned them against the far end of the table. “Let that I.V. finish dripping…a few more minutes, and you folks can head home.” He nodded and left the room.

  Rachael placed the white bag containing a bottle of Vicodin in her purse. “Can you please be nice?” she asked.

  “He laughs after everything he says,” Julien said. “It makes me angry. There is nothing funny ‘appening here.”

  “I guess you have the right to be grumpy tonight.” She leaned forward and kissed him.

  He pulled away from her. “Please Rach, not right now, okay.”

  She frowned. “Hey…why are you so pissed at me?”

  He glared at her and said, “I feel like shit. Just give me some space.”

  “Okay.” She rubbed his stomach and made excuses for his behavior. “It’s the anesthesia. We’ll get you home and comfy as soon as that’s empty,” she said while looking at the IV bag.

  “I don’t know what ‘appened. The ladder, it is very sturdy. The girl…she keeps coming and going and coming and slamming the doors.”

  “Uh…I would be very kind to Sarah.” Rachael folded her arms. “If it wasn’t for Sarah, god knows how long you would have been laying there in the barn. You made me take that Xanax…remember? I crashed…out cold. She was the one who came running in and woke me.”

  “So she was in the barn.”

  “Yes, and thank god for that!”

  “You saw her,” he questioned. “You spoke to her?”

  “Well, she kind of grunted and flipped out until I realized she wanted me to follow her to the barn. I was trying to wake you, but you wouldn’t wake up and your leg…Jules, I can’t describe…” She tried to shake the vision and her eyes filled with tears.

  Julien was not in the mood for the melodrama. “Just tell me what happened…about the girl.”

  “It was bad, Jules. I was so afraid you had broken your neck…or your back….”

  He glared at her, “But—the girl…Sarah?”

  “I called 911 and our cell phones are still registered to the city address, so there was this whole big mess of confusion and they finally got me to emergency services in Gilboa. It took forever Jules, but it was either here in town or an hour’s ride to the hospital. I guess it was bad enough that the paramedics felt you needed to be stabilized immediately.” She caught herself panicking again, regained control and continued, “They waited around here for a while, but eventually Dr. Lind told them they could go.”

  “Rachael,” he tried again to get his wife to focus. “Sarah…was she with you?”

  “Oh…no,” She shook her head, trying to remember. “I’m not sure what happened to Sarah. Once she got me to the barn…I honestly don’t think I ever saw her again.”

  A sudden burst of pain coursed through Julien.

  Rachael grabbed his arm. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded as the worst of the pain gradually decreased, replaced by a steady throb.

  Dr. Lind returned with a clipboard. He took one look at Julien. “Pain?” he asked.

  Rachael nodded.

  Lind stepped closer saying, “I’ll give him another shot of Morphine to get him through the ride home. You can give him one of the pills around midnight.”

  As if reading Julien’s mind, Rachael looked at her watch. “8:55.”

  “…at night?” Julien had no idea how long they had been in the medical center.

  Rachael smiled, “Yes, night time.” She brushed the hair from his eyes.

  She had to be in the barn when I fell…

  It has not been long enough time for all of this to happen.

  She was there when I fell, and went for Rachael right away.

  Dr. Lind handed Julien the clipboard. “Your autograph, please?”

  Julien scanned the release form briefly then signed the bottom. Dr. Lind set it aside then removed the I.V. needle from the back of Julien’s hand, replacing it with cotton and tape.

  Julien pumped his fist several times until the doctor stopped him. “Don’t.”

  “Well, Mr. and Mrs. Grenier, I wish we could have met under better circumstances.” The doctor brought the pair of crutches around to Julien’s right, excusing himself past Rachael. “My wife told me that you were good people. I’ve been meaning to take a ride up to your place…introduce myself. You know how time gets away from you…”

  “Your wife?” Rachael asked. They had met only a handful of people in town and she could not predict who his wife might be.

  Julien slowly sat forward, trying to figure out how to get up from the table.

  “Estelle. You also have my daughter up at your place taking care of the coop, Sarah.”

  Rachael’s jaw dropped.

  Julien choked, but the pain quieted him in an instant.

  “You’re Sarah’s father?” Rachael grasped the doctor’s arm, all aspects of formality disappearing between them.

  He smiled, “Yes, that’s how I knew to come to the office. I was here waiting for you before the ambulance reached your property. Sarah came running home and I called the Gilboa dispatch and told them to bring you right to me.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “You’re one of us now.” He beamed. “I wouldn’t allow them to take Mr. Grenier just anywhere.”

  Lind began cleaning up his equipment and added, “My sister-in-law, Arlette Vandermark, sold you the house.”

  Julien’s head was spinning now. He thought he might get sick right there on the table, but he regained composure. He felt very weak and his neck and back ached.

  The doctor noticed Julien’s struggle. “That’s quite a bump on your head Mr. Grenier. Let me help you.”

  Julien stared at the man, eyes locked on him, astounded, as the doctor helped him from the table. For all his eccentric oddity, how could this man, a physician, be married to that backwoods woman they met on the porch several weeks ago?

  Lind looked up to find Julien staring at him, “Is everything alright, Mr. Grenier? Do you need to lie back down?”

  Rachael tried to diffuse the situation by distracting the doctor, asking, “You said he can have one of the pills around midnight, right?”

  Dr. Lind held on to Julien, but turned his attention to Rachael, “Yes, and keep food light and nothing after midnight just in case. He can have a small amount of water in the morning with the medication.”

  Julien took the crutches. He wanted to focus his mind on the doctor’s inconceivable family tree, but found himself needing to concentrate just to remain steady. Slightly dizzy, he managed to crutch to Rachael, who offered him an apologetic smile, only making Julien feel sorrier for himself.

  Dr. Lind asked him to return to the table and readjusted the crutches before offering Julien a pair of blue scrub pants. “I’ll cut one leg off of these for you and your wife can help you dress.”

  “You said you will give me something for the ride home?” Julien asked. Now that he was upright, the pain was steadily increasing.

  Dr. Lind laughed again then went to his cabinet to prepare the injection. He administered the shot of morphine in Julien’s hip. Rachael then helped him out of the hospital gown and into his own white tee shirt, tattered by the fall, and the altered pair of scrub pants. He could finally go home.

  They situated Julien in the back seat of the Lexus.

  “Mrs. Grenier, here are some instructions,” Lind said, handing her an envelope. “Take him to Schenectady first thing in the morning. My phone number is on the paperwork. Call me anytime in the night if you have any concerns.” He
nodded and smiled warmly. “Oh, and I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done for my daughter. That coop has meant everything to Sarah. Don’t know what we would have done had you decided the chickens had to go.”

  Rachael could not respond. Her mouth dropped open but there were no words. Instead, she smiled, nodded then climbed into the driver’s seat with Julien’s x-rays.

  The doctor added, “I’ll fax some paperwork to Dr. Ptak tonight so he knows you’re coming in the morning. Let me know how it goes.”

  Rachael thanked Dr. Lind and pulled onto the road.

  For the first half mile, neither Rachael nor Julien uttered a word. The road was blanketed in absolute darkness; Rachael sat clutching the wheel so tightly her hands went numb. It was her first experience with night driving in the country and she was insecure.

  She finally broke the silence. “Are you okay back there?”

  Julien was groggy from the medication. “Go easy on the bumps,” he snapped.

  “I’m trying! It’s so fucking dark, I can’t see ‘em till I hit ‘em.” Rachael leaned closer to the wheel and concentrated.

  A moment passed and she interrupted his sleep again. “Jules?”

  Julien was drifting in and out of sleep. “Umm…”

  “Estelle…That’s his wife?” She asked.

  High as a kite on Morphine he answered, “Um-hmm…” He really couldn’t have cared less at that moment.

  They rode the rest of the way in silence.

  Between the car ride, the walk into the house and getting himself as far as the couch, Julien was again in a fair amount of pain and now more awake, yet Dr. Lind’s family tree was still the last thing on his mind.

  Rachael sat on the edge of the sofa beside him. “I’m so sorry, Jules. I know this sucks.”

  “That is an understatement,” he said dryly. “I have work to finish in the loft. I don’t want to move everything back down from there.”

  “Let’s worry about that after your appointment tomorrow. One thing at a time…and on that note, I am starving. Can I get you any—” Rachael stopped. “Oh my God!” She slapped a palm to her forehead. “Jules! I left that chicken in the oven hours ago.” She jumped up and ran to the kitchen before her words could register with him.

  She returned with a serving platter in her hands. “I could have burned the house to the ground, but Sarah to the rescue again…look what was on our counter…oven turned off.” Rachael placed the plate on the coffee table.

  The chicken, cooked to a perfect golden brown, juices glistening in irregular trails sat on the platter.

  “It’s still warm,” she stated and sat beside him again. “I fell to sleep right after I put it in the oven. Next thing I knew Sarah was bringing me to you. I seriously could have burned the house down, Jules.” She bit at her lip nervously.

  Julien tried to rationalize. “Are you sure you did not shut the oven yourself?”

  “No! I most certainly did not shut the oven off myself. I never came back into the house,” she explained adamantly, then changed course. “We really need to do something nice to thank her…for everything she’s done.”

  Another vision of Julien at the bottom of the ladder crept into her mind and she shuddered. “She not only saved you today, but probably the house which I could have burned down.”

  Julien countered, “If she had not been banging the doors and coming sneaky around here,” he motioned toward the cast on his leg, “this would not have happen in the first places.” He shook his head, too worn-out to further discuss his opinions about Sarah. “The house would not be at risk of burning.”

  “Do you think she’s not as bad off as we thought? Like…not so…”

  “Retarded?” He snapped.

  “Julien! What is your problem with this girl and those chickens?” She leaned forward, her stomach growling. She looked over the bird and removed a small piece of crisp skin with her fingers. “I think the proper way of saying it is mentally challenged,” she added, then looked at the piece of skin up close. She was famished and it was enticing and convenient, sitting right there before her. She popped the succulent morsel into her mouth, instantly astounded by the savory taste of the meat.

  She had sprinkled the bird with the usual spices: pepper, salt and paprika. A sliced lemon inside the cavity, nothing special had been added, yet the flavor was incredibly powerful and like nothing she had ever tasted in her life. She hardly recognized it as chicken at all and her palate was not sophisticated enough to decipher the flavors which blanketed her taste buds.

  “Oh my God, Jules…taste that thing.” She reached out and tore a larger piece off for herself. Juice ran down the side of her palm dripping in a curve around her wrist. She caught up to the droplet with her tongue and licked at it, gliding along the trail of grease, and leaving nothing to waste. While chewing ravenously she glanced over at Julien who placed a hand on his stomach.

  “I can’t,” he replied. Under the circumstances, the thought of greasy chicken was enough to sicken him.

  He watched his wife lap the juices slowly off her flesh. Regardless of the pain creeping back into his body, he felt a twinge of enticement; though he was unsure if it was for the meal or for Rachael. He was captivated by the scene as he watched her consume whole chunks of the bird, one after another. It was as if nothing else existed. She was euphoric and void of all grace, yet oddly seductive. Between bites, she groaned methodically as she chewed.

  What…?

  He tried to get her attention, snapping his fingers. “Rachael. Rach?”

  She seemed annoyed, forced from her trance. “What? Have some,” she suggested as she moved the plate to his stomach and balanced it on top of him. She bit into the piece of meat in her right hand as she tore off another with her left, bringing it to his lips.

  Julien pulled his head back and looked at the meat and then to Rachael. Her eyes were shut tight, an expression of ecstasy on her face. He took the morsel from her fingers with his teeth. He chewed the bite, his mouth watering around the unbelievable taste. He tried to make out the flavors, but nothing came to mind.

  It tastes like…everything.

  Julien joined her in tearing away hunks of meat from the rapidly thinning carcass. The two swallowed large pieces of the delicious bird, sucking the bones dry before tossing them back to the plate. They continued until there was nothing left but a pristine skeleton.

  There was a long period of silence until Julien finally removed the plate from his stomach, placing it on the coffee table with a thud.

  Rachael sucked at the tips of each finger again. “I can’t believe we ate the entire thing.”

  Julien stared at the bones unsure of what had happened. He could hardly remember eating the bird but he could still taste the lasting tang in his mouth.

  Rachael, transfixed on the bones, muttered, “As always, you were right…that was the best chicken I’ve ever eaten.”

  Julien admitted, “That didn’t taste like the chickens I grew up eating.” He was still pondering the flavor.

  “Coffee?” She asked.

  “No, I am fine.” He felt his eyes growing heavy again.

  Rachael slid down from the edge of the couch to sit on the floor. She poked through the bones for any sign of remaining meat. She found a miniscule fleck of white flesh on a rib and scraped it free before sucking it from beneath her fingernail. She played with the bones again. “Jules, look…the wishbone.”

  She tore the forked bone from the bird’s breast. “Let’s do it!” She sat up excitedly.

  Julien’s brow furrowed and he asked, “Do what?” He found her excitement exasperating.

  “Make a wish,” she replied.

  Julien thought he heard a subtle hint of her baby talk coming on—it was the one thing he hadn’t missed throughout her illness.

  Rachael continued, “Didn’t you play the wishbone game when you were a kid? You know, like on Thanksgiving.”

  “Thanksgiving is an American holiday,” he responde
d dryly and uninterested. “We don’t have a Thanksgiving.”

  “Well, whatever holiday in France you eat turkey on.” She came up onto her knees and leaned close to him. “C’mon, do it with me,” she coaxed. “You take one side and I—”

  “I know what the game is,” he interrupted.

  “Okay then…” She shoved the bone toward him.

  “Rachael, this is stupid. Haven’t enough bones been broken today?” He tried to guilt her into dropping the idea. “Besides, you are supposed to dry out the bone first, no?”

  Julien watched her expression crumble into disappointment.

  After everything today she wants to play games?

  Then he thought of the months of depression and anxiety that nearly destroyed them.

  I should be grateful she is happy.

  “Rachael,” he groaned. “If you want to play the game then I will play the game with you.”

  She brightened instantly. “Okay…” She held out the bone. “My brother always got the bigger half,” she said as she positioned her fingers strategically for the best grip. “Okay, you take the other side and we both make our wish.”

  Before Julien could take hold of the bone, she moved it away. “…but don’t pull until I say so, okay?”

  “Yes, however you tell me.” Julien could not believe he was following through with this. He wasn’t one to be overly playful; and silly was always out of the question. He felt foolish, but he took hold of the spindly bone, purposely grasping it by the bottom edge and allowing Rachael an advantage.

  “Okay, close your eyes and make a wish and I’ll tell you when to pull.” She closed her eyes then peeked at Julien. His were wide-open, staring back at her.

  “Close your eyes!” She demanded in a huff.

  “Aye aye aye…okay-okay.” He closed his eyes feeling like an idiot.

  “Keep ‘em closed,” she added sternly. “Now make a wish.”

  Rachael shut her eyes again and began to think.