Chapter 3

It was hard to focus. There were voices in the room, talking quietly with each other, and the occasional beep, but other than being on my back, in bed, I was not sure where I was until I opened my eyes. Mrs ... I guess Dr. Hardwick since she was in her doctor’s uniform. The white lab coat with stuff in the pockets over a nice blouse and slacks. She had a metal clipboard in one hand and talked with another doctor looking person who also had a clipboard. I must have moved because she looked over at me.

“Looks who’s back with us,” she said quietly.

The other doctor turned around and smiled at me as well.

“How do you feel,” Dr. Hardwick asked as she touched my wrist.

“Sore, headache, confused, floaty.”

“The floaty comes from medicine to treat the headache, which is not a surprise considering you bounced it off your kitchen table, then the floor, then who knows what else your mother did before I got there.”

“What happened?”

“That is a longer story, and I promise to tell you eventually. For now, rest. This is Dr. Heinmann. He’s going to talk to you a bit, OK?”

“Sure. Where’s mom?”

“At home. I will make sure she knows you are awake.”

“OK.”

Dr. Heinmann had one of those funny German accents that you hear on old World War Two movies, the type where the actor had never spoke German but was told that is what a German-speaking English should sound like. Except I think he was German. He talked about my head. It turns out he is a neurologist and wanted to run me through some routine tests to make sure there was nothing else scrambled in my brain box. He was a funny guy once you understood him. I just agreed, and he scuttled away, and I guess I went back to sleep again.

Dr. Hardwick was there when I woke up with a little old lady that looked a bit like someone’s grandmother. Her name was Mrs. Wilson, and she would be my advocate for the next set of interviews, whatever that meant. She told me I should answer the questions thoroughly and honestly. If Mrs. Wilson did not think the question should be answered, she would speak up and tell me not to answer it.

“So, you’re a lawyer?”

“Something like that, yes. Ready?”

“I guess so.”

“Mind if I stay?” Dr. Hardwick asked.

“No, not at all, at least not for the medical things.”

“I will get Dr. Preston.”

She went out into the hall while Mrs. Wilson sat down at a small table and took out a notebook. I expected her to take out some knitting too, but she did not. Dr. Hardwick was quickly back with Dr. Preston. He was an imposing black man over six feet tall. He used to play basketball. Now he was a nutritionist. He asked me many questions about what I liked to eat and what I did not like. How much I ate, how often I ate certain foods, whether I was a vegetarian or a vegan. Silly stuff like that. He looked at his clipboard and then asked me about how much exercise I got. I detailed how I spent my days this summer versus how I spent my days at school. He made notes, Mrs. Wilson made notes, Dr. Hardwick made notes. Who knew I was so full of useful information that people wanted to know so much about me.

He was replaced by another doctor who’s name I did not catch. She was a bit older than Dr. Hardwick. She asked me a bunch of questions that were like riddles and puzzles. Then a bunch of math questions, then some questions that sounded like they came out of a history textbook. She asked me about my mother and my father and my sister. Eventually, she had all she needed from my store of interesting facts, and then she left.

A technician came in after that and said he needed to take me down for a scan. Mrs. Wilson said she would be here when I got back, and Dr. Hardwick said she would see me later. The technician said his name was José, and he put the sides up on the bed and rolled me down the hall, down an elevator, and down another darker hallway to a room with a lot of machines. I moved from my bed onto a sliding table. They told me to close my eyes and relax, and I moved in and out of this tunnel-like thing for a while, then back into bed before they took me back to my room.

When I returned, José got me comfortable and then left. Mrs. Wilson did have knitting with her, and once José left, she put her needled away and then came to talk to me. She sat on the edge of the bed and looked at me.

“Jay, these next two interviews will be difficult. I wish you could avoid them, but I am afraid you can’t. First, two police detectives will talk with you, then a lady from Child Services. Answer their questions, unless I tell you not to, OK? I will be right here the whole time.”

“Mrs. Wilson, have I done something wrong?” I asked, suddenly concerned. “I mean, it isn’t like I meant to put a hole in the window.”

“Hole? Oh, the ladder. No, dear, you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Hardwick? I mean, Jane Hardwick? All we did was kiss.”

That got a laugh out of her, and she patted my hand.

“My dear, if all you are doing with Dr. Hardwick’s daughter is kissing her, she might feel you have done something wrong, but nothing needs the police. Just answer their questions, OK?”

“OK.”

I ran back through the last six months of my life, and I could not find a single reason for the police to interview me. As far as I could tell, other than break the window, which I was still paying for, I had not done anything out of the ordinary. Still, I was more than a bit nervous when the detectives came into the room. Unlike on TV, these guys wore jeans. One had a crazy band t-shirt on, the other wore a simple button-up shirt. They did not even appear to have guns. I passed their ID to Mrs. Wilson, who made a note in her book, then they pulled out chairs and sat down next to my bed. The older detective, in the button up, took the lead.

“Jay, I am Detective Ike Taylor, this is detective Washington Irving.”

I laughed.

“What’s funny?” Ike asked.

“I always thought that it was a made-up name. Legend of Sleepy Hollow? You know, like a pseudonym. Keep the real author’s identity hidden?”

Detective Irving laughed too. It probably was not the first time, but he smiled at me, then nodded.

“Like Dragnet, Colonial style,” he said.

“Yeah!”

“Do you watch much television, Jay?” Ike asked, and we were away.

They asked me about my home life and school. Who my friends were and what were they like. A couple of times, Mrs. Wilson coughed, and the question was changed, but not often. They asked me how often I saw my father and what he did for a living. What my mom was like. How I broke the window. They both seemed to wince when I mentioned bouncing off the ground and into the fence. I don’t know how long they were there, but Detective Irving took many notes, and I noticed Mrs. Wilson take a bunch of notes before we ran out of things to discuss.

“Jay, thank you for talking to us today,” Ike said. “I hope you are back on your feet soon.”

They left, and I lay back against my pillows for a couple of minutes. I was going to ask for water when another woman stormed into the room. She looked like the vice principle’s secretary when I was interrupting her, and her mouth looked like she had sucked on a lemon. She could have been my mother’s sister.

“Name,” she spat at me.

“Jay Dickson,” I said.

She pulled out a file and read quickly, then started rapid-firing questions at me. Did my mother hit me, did my father hit me, did they hit my sister, had I ever been punished for not finishing my dinner. Mrs. Wilson barked at her a couple of times to watch her tone, but that did not seem to slow her down. She was there for a shorter time than it took the detectives to have their IDs verified by Mrs. Wilson before making a note in her file.

“I don’t see a problem here. Goodbye.”

And she was gone.

“Could I get some water please?” I asked.

“Of course. Don’t go away. And don’t talk to anyone, OK?”

Mrs. Wilson left my room, and I fell back against my pillows. While she was gone, Dr. Heinmann came in, with two technicians behind him. They were pushing a computer with a large TV screen attached to it.

“How are you feeling, Jay,” he asked.

“I’m not supposed to talk to anyone until Mrs. Wilson comes back,” I said.

“Oh. Um. How about if I talk to you then?”

I thought about it for a moment, then agreed.

“Good. I brought a movie. A special movie. All about you. Your head specifically.”

The technicians had everything plugged in, and the screen came life. Dr. Hienmann started showing me the scans they had taken earlier. He showed me the cognitive part of my head and what he called the lizard part of my head, where all our basic instincts still resided. I think he was joking with me, but he did seem quite serious. Then he showed me a couple of dark spots, and if he had been serious about our lizard brain, he was more serious about this. Mrs. Wilson returned at this point.

“Ah, Advocate. My apologies. Mr. Dickson said he could not speak to me, but did not seem to think I could not speak to him. That is OK?”

She seemed to think about it a minute, then nodded.

“I believe that is a fair interpretation, doctor. And what have you been talking to him about?”

“His brain. We were just getting to the important parts. Shall I continue?”

“Please do,” she said as she poured me some water and put it where I could reach it.

“Now, young Jay, for you are fortunately still young, and still growing. This is good, ja? Here, here, and here,” he said as he slowed the video, “we see the dark spots. The ones here, front and back, are a bit darker, and, thus, a bit newer. The headache you are currently experiencing, yes? That will go away in time, not to worry. These others, on the side, one about here,” he said, pointing to just above his ear, “and one here,” on the opposite side below his ear, “I interpret to be from your bounce off the height. You will notice that they are lighter in colour, thus are healing, but are not the same colour yet as the surrounding grey matter. And they may never be, but not to worry, you have all this here to work with and be studious with, ja?”

I just nodded.

“Maybe for the soon time, you not nod,” he suggested.

“OK.”

“Good. Now, while we had you in the shop, we checked out the connection between the brain and the body, and it looks good,” he said as he ran the image down to the top of the spine. “So no damage from the bouncing or the banging. The headache will be with you a bit, so we will keep you here to make sure these begin to heal. Nothing worse than trying to kiss pretty girls when you have a headache. They are supposed to be the ones to get the headache, am I not right, Mrs. Wilson.”

“Yes, I believe you are correct, doctor.”

“Good. Now the boys here, they will make you a super sleeping cap you wear tonight, and we will see if the radio show is as good as the video, ja? Ja. Questions? An intelligent boy like you must have thousands of questions.”

I asked a couple that came to mind, but he could see I was running out of energy and wished me a good evening. Dinner would be along soon, and I should eat it all up. He checked the plastic bag attached to my arm, made another note on my chart, and left the room to his assistants who pulled out equipment and wires. Both Mrs. Wilson and I watched, fascinated by the activity.

“Now, when you go to sleep tonight, the nurse will help you put this on your head. The blue goes on the left. Don’t worry if it comes off at night; someone will wake you up to put it back on your head.”

“Funny.”

“Who said you get to rest in a hospital.”

With a laugh, they left the room to Mrs. Wilson and myself. She reviewed her notes. Dr. Hardwick and Dr. Preston came in a couple of minutes later, trailed by two nurses. Dr. Preston carried a tray that he put down on the table next to my bed. The nurse fiddled with the needle in my hand, connected to the bag before she removed it.

“We are done with the IV,” Dr. Hardwick said to my unasked question. “Now that you are conscious, you can take the pain meds the old fashioned way.”

“Jay, I heard about dinner the other night. Apparently, you did not get your steak, so you get it tonight, and plenty of vegetables. I want you to clean your plate, please. You are on the verge of being malnourished, and there is no reason for that. So eat up.”

“Sorry, sir, but I have to decline. My mother won’t be happy about me eating someone else’s food without her permission.”

I heard a sigh come from Mrs. Wilson, but I did not know why.

“Jay, remember we talked about me being your advocate. Your lawyer? Well, for the next few days, pretend I am your grandmother. She would let you have a good dinner without checking with your mother, wouldn’t she?”

“I wouldn’t know, ma’am. I don’t have a grandmother.”

“What?” Dr. Hardwick said. “Of course you do.”

“No, she died before I was born.”

“Jay, why don’t you sit back and rest for a moment? I want to talk to the doctors outside, please.”

They both nodded and followed her out. A few minutes later, Dr. Hardwick came back into the room.

“Jay, I need you to eat, please. Otherwise, I have to put that needle back into your hand. I don’t want to do that.”

She had tears in her eyes.

“OK, I guess since Dr. Preston says I should, it’s OK.”

“Good boy.”

She got off the bed and wheeled the table over to where I could get to it, then moved the bed controls, so I sat up. There was a steak, also broccoli, potato, and carrots. There were also a couple of boxes of milk. More milk that I had seen at a meal in a long time. Dr. Hardwick kept me company as we ate. We talked about yesterday’s game and how happy Jane seemed to be to go with me. I told her it was a great game and thanked her again for inviting me. Before I knew it, I had finished all the food on my plate.

“I guess you were hungry,” Dr. Hardwick observed.

“I guess so. I missed breakfast and lunch, so that might explain some of it.”

“Yes, at least,” she said with a smile. “Rest. Jane will be here shortly, and I told her she could stay and watch the game with you.”

“Thank you,” I said with a big smile. “I never get to watch it at home.”

“Rest. Mrs. Wilson will be in shortly to get her things.”

“OK.”

She handed me the remote to the television in the room and showed me how to turn it on and change channels before picking up the tray and leaving the room. I flipped around the news channels and stopped on the local news. Most of it went over my head, but there were some cute stories about a local bike race and festival at the harbour later in the week. Maybe I could figure out how to go down with Hardwick. Well, it was a nice dream, anyway. I would likely be doing the lawn that day. Mrs. Wilson gathered her things and wished me a good evening. She would be back tomorrow to check on my progress.

I settled back, and once the news ended, I flipped over to the baseball channel. They were just in the pre-game, so I got lowered the bed a bit, got comfortable, and listened to the scores and standings around the league.

Hardwick arrived just as they transitioned to the ballpark team. She wore a skirt and a loose-fitting blouse. I did not think I had ever seen her in a skirt.

“Look who I found,” Dr. Hardwick said as she came in behind her daughter. “Now, you two have fun, but not too much fun, hear? And Jane, if he falls asleep, just come out to the nurse’s station, and they will page me.”

“Thanks, mom,” she said as I said, “Thanks, Dr. Hardwick.”

She waved and backed out of the room. Jane looked around then at me.

“Got room for me?”

There was room for three people in this bed, and I moved over. Jane kicked off her shoes, then hopped up and lay down next to me with her head on my shoulder.

“How’re you feeling,” she asked quietly as her hand caressed my chest through the hospital gown’s thin material.

“Better. My head still hurts, but not like this afternoon. What the hell is going on, Hardwick?”

“I thought you were going to call me Jane,” she said.

“Well, you hadn’t kissed me, so I wasn’t sure. And frankly, I’m a bit confused.”

Rather than answer, she moved up, and her lips found mine, and we were soon lost in a soul-searing kiss. By the time we separated to catch our breath, the first pitch was over the plate, and there were already two out.

“So, Jane, what’s going on?”

She bit her upper lip that made her suddenly look very sexy. So sexy that I bent enough to kiss her, and that only started us kissing again. My hand soon rested on her bare thigh, and of its own volition, it was quickly under the hem of her skirt and resting on the smooth satin of her underwear. I squeezed her ass, and Jane moaned into my kiss as she ground her pelvis against my thigh. This went on until I was sure I would faint from lack of oxygen. My hand slipped from its resting place, and my fingers found the cleft between her cheeks. When I squeezed her there, she went tense, vibrated against me, relaxed, broke our kiss, and panted heavily against my neck before she looked up at me.