Chapter 1: A Blast From the Past

August 10, 1981

Angie and I got off our bikes, which we were still riding until we got parking permits. Or all year, if we couldn’t. There were only so many; we would only get one if the seniors and juniors didn’t take them all. Debbie caught up to us and started talking to Angie while I knelt to lock the bikes. We often locked each other’s, given how often we got interrupted by friends.

As I was finishing Angie’s and turning to mine, I heard some sort of commotion. Gasps, people moving. Then, before I could react, Angie yelled, “Max! No! No!” Someone else screamed. Multiple someones.

I got half turned and looked up to see a baseball bat coming my way. I ducked and tried to throw myself to the side, feeling and hearing the impacts of things slamming into me. Head, shoulders, back. Legs. Multiple things. Heard screams. Things went grey. Then, black.

I woke briefly, to see a bunch of faces looking from a short distance. Angie’s, among them. She lit up when she saw my eyes open. I thought she might have some bruising on her face. Then something jarred me, something hurt in my chest, and I faded out again.

At first, I couldn’t place the loud noise. As consciousness returned, it became clearer. A siren.

I tried to get up and found that wasn’t happening.

“Relax, son. Don’t move.”

I blinked. A blurry shape resolved itself into a guy in a uniform. A paramedic.

“W ... what ... what happened?”

“Some kid took a baseball bat to your head. Helmet saved you, no question. Lucky you hadn’t taken it off. You still have a possible concussion, though I’m doubting it given how you look now. I think you just fainted. That’s pretty common in a situation like this. When there’s a loss of consciousness, we always immobilize the patient with a backboard and use a cervical collar. They’ll find out at the hospital if you needed them. You have possible neck and back injuries; a bunch of cuts and abrasions, mostly from the bikes; bruised or maybe broken ribs. Dislocated left shoulder, possible left arm fracture. You’re lucky to have so few injuries; no helmet, or a bike falling the other direction, and it’d be a lot worse. We’re taking you to Memorial City Hospital. I think the school notified your mother. She should meet us there.”

“A lot worse means a hearse, right?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Didn’t have to.”

He gave a little laugh. I got a look at his nametag. Glenn Sanders. I blinked a bit more.

“H ... hey. Fancy meeting you here.”

He looked at me like I was speaking gibberish. Maybe I was. My head did hurt, but not like when the bike wound up on my head. Clearly I needed to avoid impacts with bikes.

“Huh? What’s that, kid?”

“We’ve met before, Mr. Sanders.” I coughed. It wasn’t easy to breathe, and my throat hurt. “Different circumstances.”

He frowned. “Can’t say as I...”

“Candice Matthews. In January. Late at night. She nearly died from barbiturates and alcohol.”

His eyes went wide. “Oh, that one I remember! We barely got to her in time. Wait! You’re the kid that called that in!”

“Yeah. I don’t know if they ever tell you, but I can. She’s mostly recovered and will start school ... today, I think.”

“Damn, that’s good news! Lousy way to find out, but yeah, we seldom hear, and I always wondered. Such a pretty girl. I was glad she was alive and breathing when we got her to the hospital.”

“Pumping her stomach was part of that. Thank you and to your partner.”

He smiled. “Stuff like that makes it all worthwhile, you know?”

“I get that.”

The ambulance slowed, stopped. The back doors opened. A couple people looked in.

Glenn turned, smiling. “He’s conscious, alert, oriented.” He ran down my potential injuries. They wheeled me out of the ambulance. I was already fading a bit, maybe from the adrenaline roller-coaster.

“Hang in there, son. Steve, right? We need to get some X-rays and see how you’re doing. It’s a good sign that you’re conscious and oriented.”

“Thanks, Doctor...”

“Perkins. We’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

They rolled me back to Radiology and took several X-Rays. Once back in the Emergency Room, Doctor Perkins ran some simple neurological tests. Could I feel this? How about this? That? This other thing? Reflexes OK? He shined lights in my eyes, ears, nose. Another doctor poked and prodded my ribs and, yes, they hurt, thankyouverymuch. Then he examined my shoulder and, yes Sir, that really hurts a great deal.

Once things calmed down a bit, and I could think, I got really worried. I called to the nurse.

“Um ... Ma’am?”

She looked over. “Yes?”

“I doubt you know, but can you find out what happened? I mean, not to me, but there were other kids around and, from what I heard, I’m pretty sure who attacked me, and he had motive to hurt more people than just me.” I was fairly sure Angie was OK. Beyond that? Who knew?

She looked doubtful. “We don’t get that information. I’ll find out what I can. If it helps, I can tell you that they didn’t transport anyone else, so if anyone else was hurt, it didn’t require a hospital.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. Of course, that could mean it was even worse, but it was probably good news, and I was going to stick with that.

“Thank you, Ma’am. I appreciate it.”

“You try to rest, honey.”

Surprisingly, I did. I got a ten or fifteen-minute mini-nap in. Then I heard a familiar voice. I opened my eyes.

“Hi, Mom. We have got to stop meeting like this.”

Her jaw dropped open, then she laughed. “Oh, my goodness, Steve! How are you? The doctors say it’s not as bad as it looks.”

I shrugged. Which was a terrible idea. “UNNGGHHHH! Uh ... r ... remind me not to do that.”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“My left shoulder. I think it’s dislocated. Shrugging was a bad idea. Anyway, I think I’m mostly OK. I don’t have any of the feelings I had after the concussion. This is just ... a whole lot of soreness. But they haven’t told me much. Speaking of ... Mom, how’s Angie doing? And did anyone else get hurt?”

She smiled. “She’s got some bruises, that’s it. She’s out in the waiting room. They wouldn’t let her come back. She jumped that boy, the one that attacked you, from what I hear. And I don’t think anyone else was hurt, at least enough to need attention.”

Doctor Perkins came back in, carrying a clipboard.

“Mrs. Marshall?”

“Yes, Doctor? How is he?”

“Lucky.” He laughed. “If he hadn’t been wearing that helmet, we’d probably be having a very different conversation.” He turned to me. “I don’t want to talk like you’re not here, Steve. So, I’ll address myself to you. You’ve got some badly bruised ribs, but fortunately no breaks. It’s particularly acute where a bike pedal slammed into you. You’ve got some trauma to your neck, similar to what people call whiplash. That should be minor, but we should monitor it. We need to reduce — that means re-set — your left shoulder, but we were waiting for a clear from neurology. Your arm isn’t broken, just badly bruised, and you’ve got an elbow sprain. I think we can resolve it without a cast, as long as you wear the sling. None of the cuts require stitches. Fortunately, your face was spared.”

Mom looked relieved. “So, um... ?”

“We’ll do the shoulder reduction in a bit, after giving Steve some pain medication. Then we’ll keep him overnight in case there are any neurological issues we’re missing. I’m recommending that his neurologist...” he flipped through some notes, “ ... Dr. Reynolds ... see him as soon as possible. Hopefully tomorrow, after Steve’s released. We don’t think there’s anything there, but Dr. Reynolds is familiar with Steve’s EEG’s, so it’s an easy thing to check.”

She sighed. “That’s good news! I was in a panic! That idiot boy! They arrested him, of course.”

“I never saw him, but I heard Angie call his name. All I saw was a bat going towards my head.”

She sighed. Then she chuckled softly, surprising me. “I can’t even be mad at Angie on this one. She had the good sense to dump him long before this.”

“Mrs. Marshall, I’m going to give Steve some painkillers. Can I have you go wait with your daughter? Before long we’ll have Steve in a room and you can visit more.”

“Sure, Dr. Perkins. I’m just glad to have been able to talk to him. You take care, Steve. Feel better. We’ll see you soon!”

“Bye, Mom. Sorry I can’t hug you!”

She left, and Dr. Perkins gave me, first, a couple pills, then a few minutes later an injection in my shoulder. A bit after that he and another doctor manipulated my shoulder. It didn’t hurt that much — painkillers, no doubt — and then things felt much better as it settled into place. I groaned.