by Liane Shaw
The doctor checks me over and says my knees were just scraped up badly, but there isn’t any actual damage to the ligaments or anything else I might need. He isn’t one of my regular doctors and he kind of looks at me strangely when he says it, as if he’s wondering why a kid in a chair would be worried about his legs anyway.
Then again, I could be projecting a little because every tiny piece of me has started to hurt and I’m feeling supremely sorry for myself.
“The shoulder is a different matter. There is some tearing of the ligament that will need some decent healing time. We’ll have to immobilize it for a while to make sure that the healing happens.”
“Immobilize it? For how long?” I have to struggle to control my volume.
“A few weeks, give or take. We’ll have to check it regularly and figure it out as we go. You were lucky. It could have been worse. I’ll send the resident over to bandage up that arm.” He smiles and wanders out into the hall.
“That’s not too bad,” my mother says, sniffling a little. I hope she doesn’t start crying again. She cried when we got home. She cried when she saw my bruises. She cried when we came to the hospital. She must be getting dried out by now.
Not too bad? This is bullshit! I can’t do anything without my shoulder. I need it to move my chair. I need it to swim! What am I supposed to do?
My mother is smiling at me hopefully. My father is staring at me, eyebrows scrunched together, looking as if he’s waiting for me to say something.
I keep my mouth shut. I’m too tired to come up with a happy lie. Mom will just get more upset if she knows I’m pissed, and I can’t handle any more tears. My dad looks relieved at my silence and his face smooths out. I don’t think he likes crying any more than I do. He gives me a tiny smile and shakes his head a little.
The resident comes in to bandage me up. My arm is pressed against my chest in a tight sling. I can’t even move my own chair now. I’m definitely immobilized.
At least I’ll have to stay home from school until my shoulder heals. After all, my mother always tells me to look for the bright side in every situation.
“We’ll have to look into renting an electric chair so you can stay mobile at school.” My father wipes out the bright side with a big black cloud of Dad logic. Great plan. Electric chairs are likely even bigger than my manual one. I can take up the whole hall instead of only three-quarters of it.
“Do you think they’d tell us how the other boy is doing?” my mother asks as we head for the exit.
“I’m not sure, but we could try asking about him,” Dad answers, looking at me with his eyebrows raised, making it a question. I’m surprised for a second but then quickly nod. I’ve been so busy feeling sorry for myself for the past couple of hours that I more or less forgot about Jack. Well, actually just more. I haven’t thought about him at all. That’s amazingly awesome of me.
“Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. Malloy? I’m Officer Peabody. I was wondering if we could speak with Ryan before you leave…assuming he’s up to it?”
The police officer interrupts my dad’s walk over to the reception desk. I think it’s the same woman who talked to me at the river, but I can’t be sure. Everything is starting to blur together in my memory, and the details are disappearing into a pile of mush.
“I suppose so. Ryan?” My father raises his eyebrows at me again. I never really noticed how expressive his face is before. He can really make those eyebrows talk.
I really don’t want to talk to the police right now with any part of my face. I think I should talk to Jack first, even though he probably doesn’t want to talk to me.
I have a bad feeling in my gut that I know what Jack was trying to do, but I don’t want to be the one to talk about it to the cops.
“I actually wanted to see Jack while we’re here. I’m feeling pretty tired, though, so I’m not sure how much I can handle right now.” I give the cop my best pathetic poor-little-kid-in-a-wheelchair face as I put a bit of a hitch in my voice. I’m pretty good at making people feel sorry for me when I don’t want to do something.
The cop looks all sympathetic and nods. My father closes his eyes and shakes his head. The pathetic, kid-in-a-chair routine does not work on family.
“I can understand that. Perhaps I could come by the house later this afternoon, once you’ve had a chance to rest. You deserve it. You’re quite the hero. You saved that boy’s life. You’d better be prepared for some media attention.”
“Thanks, Officer. We’re pretty proud of him.” My mother smiles and extends her hand. They shake, both looking at me as if I just discovered the cure for the next pandemic that would’ve wiped out humankind.
Hero? Me? I hadn’t thought about that part of it. Maybe I should write a graphic novel about myself.
“I’ve already been in with Jack. He’s awake but not ready to talk to anyone…at least not to me. He might be more interested in talking to a friend. I’ll see if I can arrange it.” Officer Peabody heads over toward the reception desk without waiting to see if anyone thinks that’s a super wonderful idea.
Awesome.
I really handled that well. I figured the cop would just go away and then we’d find out that Jack isn’t up to visitors and we could go home. Now I got myself stuck inside of my own lie. Even though I know I should talk to him, I don’t actually want to talk to Jack right now any more than I want to talk to the cops. I’d rather wait until I’m feeling less like screaming every time I move. Well, to be honest, I’d rather wait forever but I don’t think that’s an option.
This is not going to be pretty. If anyone thinks he’s going to shout “My hero!” when I walk into his room, they’re probably going to be surprised. He’s more likely to tell me to go to hell.
I don’t even know him. I’m the last person on earth he’s going to want to talk to. He wasn’t there at five in the morning because he wanted witnesses.
“All right. I spoke with the nurse and she said it should be fine for you to go in with him for a few minutes. Your parents can wait in the cafeteria. I’ll bring you back down to them when you’re done.”
Oh good, Officer Peabody is on the case.
“If he’s too tired I can just do it another time,” I say, trying to make the words sound sympathetic instead of like a lame excuse to delay the inevitable.
“No, I think it would be good for both of you. But we have to go right now before he falls asleep again.” She doesn’t wait for me to answer, but just grabs my chair and starts wheeling me toward the elevators. She’s not a very patient person.
I hate being pushed in my chair. I like to be in control of my own movement. I’m not a fan of electric chairs but it’ll be better than this.
We ride the elevator up to the fifth floor, staring at ourselves in the mirrors that are plastered across the walls. Why would anyone think that people in a hospital want to stare at themselves? You’re either sick or visiting someone who’s sick. Not exactly a good hair day either way.
My hair isn’t looking so great. I forgot to brush it after my shower and it’s sticking out all over my head like some kind of orange-flavored porcupine. Most people call me a redhead but that’s just a polite way of saying my hair is bright orange. After all, I’m not different enough rolling around in a town full of bipeds. I have to look like a moving traffic cone, too.
I want to smooth my hair down, but I don’t want Officer Peabody to notice me doing it. I don’t want her to begin a conversation and try to find a clever way to start questioning me. I don’t have any answers ready yet.
I decide to ignore my hair and close my eyes. That should stop any conversation attempts. I don’t open them until the elevator stops. The doors open and I get pushed out into the hallway. I feel like I’m being forced to go somewhere against my will, even though I’m the brilliant guy who said I wanted to do this in the first place.
I don’t want t
o see Jack. I don’t know what to say to him. The guy’s obviously pretty messed up. What am I supposed to do? Do I let on that I saw the skirt and that I took it and hid it under a bush, even though I had no idea whether or not he would have wanted me to do that?
Or do I just keep my mouth shut and let him think…I don’t know…that it fell off in the water or whatever happens to skirts when you wear them in the river?
I don’t want to talk to him, but I don’t want to talk to the cops either. I know they want to understand what happened, but I feel like this is Jack’s private business. After all, he wasn’t hurting anyone.
Anyone else.
This all sucks. I should have stayed home this morning and studied for my math test.
Six
“Here we are. I’ll take you in and be just outside.”
Officer Peabody doesn’t bother to wait for an answer and just whips me into the room and parks me beside Jack’s bed. I think she needs to cut down on her caffeine intake.
Jack is lying all tucked up under the sheets, his face so pale that he seems to be blending into the fabric. He’s awake, eyes open, just staring up at the ceiling. He doesn’t seem to notice that I’m here. I look around the room a bit and that’s when I realize there’s a woman sitting in a chair over by the window. Her eyes are closed and she has a book open on her lap. I assume she’s Jack’s mother. She doesn’t seem to have noticed I’m here either.
I sit silently for a minute, wondering again what I’m doing here. Jack isn’t moving. Maybe he’s sleeping with his eyes open, which is creepy on all kinds of levels.
Am I supposed to just start talking and wake both of them up? What do I say? I caught your show earlier? Probably wouldn’t be a good start. Something simple like How are you? I think I know the answer to that one.
“Oh, I didn’t notice you come in. You’re Ryan!” The woman at the window jumps up, knocking her book onto the floor. She comes over to the bed and looks down at me. Her eyes are full of tears. Another crier. I wish Mom was here. She could handle this better than I can. Kindred spirits, or whatever.
“Yes. Hi.” It feels like I should be talking in more than single syllables, but I can’t get my mouth and brain working together. Jack still doesn’t move at the sound of our voices.
“I don’t even know what to say to you! How do I thank you?” The tears are streaming down her face now, and she looks like she wants to hug me but can’t figure out how to do it.
“You don’t have to thank me. I just did what anyone would.” I should have stuck to single syllables. Now I sound like I’m on some crappy TV show.
“Of course I have to thank you! The police say you saved him. He’s never been a strong swimmer. I can’t imagine what he was doing so close to the water. The police said you told them he fell. I don’t know how that could happen.” Her eyes turn it into a question.
Jack’s head turns a little on his pillow. I glance at him. Now he’s staring at me instead of the ceiling. His eyes are so dark that his pupils seem to have blended into the iris. He’s staring without blinking, and I have to look away before I get sucked in to one of the black holes.
His mother’s eyes are also dark brown, with lots of red in there too. She’s obviously been crying a lot. I wonder how much she knows.
“I don’t know either,” I tell her. “It all happened so fast. I just saw him in the water and my swim training kicked in.” I sort of answer her question, still sounding like a badly written character on some dramatic movie of the week.
“Well, you’re my hero. Jack’s too,” she says, looking over at him. I glance as well. He’s still staring at me. I don’t think those eyes are saying hero.
“Anyway, I’m going to go and get something to drink. I’ll let you boys talk. You can buzz the nursing station if you need anything.” She leaves the room before I can answer. I guess everyone’s in a hurry today.
The room is silent. I hope that Jack decides to go back to memorizing the ceiling instead of trying to psych me out with his eyes. I glance back in his direction. Shit. He’s still staring. Doesn’t this guy ever blink?
“Why?”
The word is quiet, just above a whisper, and I almost miss it.
“What?”
“Why?” He says it a bit louder this time. I don’t know what he’s asking me. Does he want to know why I saved him?
“It looked like you were drowning. I couldn’t just sit and watch.”
“No. Why did you say I fell?” I barely remember saying it.
“I…just…didn’t know what to say. I guess. I wasn’t sure what really happened.” That’s almost true. One second he was there and the next he was under water.
“You saw me?” He looks back up to the ceiling. I know what he’s asking this time.
“Yeah.”
“Did anyone else see?” His voice is trembling a bit. It makes my throat hurt.
“No. Just me. I took your…um…stuff off and hid it.”
“Why?”
Again with the why.
“I don’t know. I thought you might not want anyone to see it or something. Just a guess.” I shrug my shoulders, which makes one of them move and the other one scream in pain. I bite my lip so I don’t join in.
“Okay.”
I don’t know if he’s telling me that what I did was okay or if he’s just ending the conversation. I can’t think of anything else to say so I just sit there. He obviously can’t think of anything either because he just lies there. After a few moments of nothing, Jack closes his eyes. I figure that’s my cue to leave so I reach for the buzzer to request my escape. His hand whips out and grabs my wrist, making me jump.
“What will you tell the cops?” He’s staring at me intently, holding my wrist with really strong fingers. This guy is seriously creeping me out.
“I don’t know. I guess it depends on what they ask me.”
“I don’t want anyone to know. Not yet, anyway. Just keep saying I fell off the bridge. An accident. Whatever. Just for now. Please?” His eyes start to fill up just like his mother’s did. I nod my head quickly. I can’t handle any more full on crying today.
“Yeah. It’s cool. I’ll just say I saw you in the water. That’s mostly true.” Leaving pieces of the truth out isn’t exactly the same as lying, is it?
He closes his eyes for a second and nods, taking a deep breath in and blowing it back out like he’s practicing how to breathe. He’s still holding my wrist in a vise-grip and I try to gently pull back. His eyes fly open and he looks at me, tightening his fingers even more. This kid is stronger than he looks, and it’s starting to hurt.
“Do you think caterpillars can swim?” he asks in a serious voice that makes it seem like the most important question in the world.
“What?” What the hell is he talking about? Caterpillars? Who gives a shit about caterpillars a few hours after almost drowning?
I think it’s time for me to go. I really need to press that buzzer thing, but now both my hands are immobilized.
“Never mind.” He whispers it as he shakes his head slightly and gives my wrist back to me. His eyes close again, and he turns away. One tear breaks loose and rolls down his cheek.
My throat is really starting to ache. I hope I’m not getting sick on top of everything else.
I quickly press the call button, hoping that Officer Peabody doesn’t waste too much time taking me back to my parents. At least I turned my lie around and can tell her the truth if she asks again. I’m definitely too tired to handle any of her questions. I just want to go home and sleep.
By the time we do get home, there are all kinds of messages on our answering machine from people wanting to talk to the new town hero, telling me how wonderful I am, and thanking me for saving Jack’s life. My cell phone is full of texts from kids at school, and Cody sent a message telling me to check out his Facebook
post about me because he thinks it’s going to go viral. As if.
Everyone’s saying how amazing it was that I was at the right place at the right time.
I’m pretty sure Jack would disagree. I’m pretty sure he thinks that I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and that I should have stayed in bed this morning so he could do what he really wanted to do without anyone there to stop him.
I don’t want to think about it. I just want to go back to bed and start the day over again so I can pretend none of this ever happened.
Seven
Officer Peabody must have caught a case actually involving a real crime or something because she ended up leaving me alone for a while. I had hoped that the whole world would also leave me alone so that I could hide in my room for another week instead of going back to school, but my parents had a different idea.
“I was thinking that Cody could help you out until we get the other chair. You’ve been home a whole week, and it would be good for you to get back to school,” my mother says, as she walks into my room without knocking, an annoying habit she’s redeveloped since I did my swan dive off the bridge. I had her trained to stop doing that years ago, and now I’m going to have to start over again.
“Cody? You want to have Cody push me around school all day? Seriously? You have met him, right?” I’m staring at my mother as if she just grew wings and a stone tail.
Wings. A pair of those would be pretty useful right now.
“Of course I have. He’s your best friend. And I know he’s a little…energetic, but he means well, and he’d be happy to help you, I’m sure.”
“Energetic? Try completely hyperactive. The only time Cody can channel it is in the water. The rest of the time, the guy is literally bouncing off the walls. He’ll be bouncing me off the walls if I let him push me around school.”