Chapter 8

The following day, I spent an hour in the physiotherapy department where I exercised my muscles and was taught movements I could do on my own while lying in bed.

Afterward, I returned to my room to find Bert, waiting there.

“You look great, kid,” he said with a grin. I was never happier to hear Bert calling me ‘kid’ again. “Everyone in town had been praying for you. You’re a celebrity now.”

“So I heard,” I replied before limping back to the bed.

“They told us they weren’t sure if you were going to make it.”

“I almost didn’t.”

Bert face was clouded with sadness for a brief moment. Neither of us said anything for an awkward minute or two.

“You better hurry back, kid. I’m not getting any younger, you know. One of these days I’m going to retire.”

A nurse helped me to lie in bed, “Doctors told me it wouldn’t be long before I’ll be discharged.”

“Good. Focus on your recovery and prepare for a hero’s welcome when you come back to Middletown. The Mayor is really pleased with the media attention our town is getting.”

Surprisingly, I had mixed feelings about that.

Wendy came back in the evening after visiting hours were over. She sat on my bed and I asked her “Can I ask some questions before you start with another round of your own?”

Her expression warmed. “Of course you can, Nick.”

“Could you just be Wendy, the girl I knew when we were kids and not the shrink?”

She checked her watch and laid her clipboard down on the windowsill. “I suppose I’m due for a break. What would you like to talk about?”

Reaching for the pen on the bedside table, I clicked it a few times with my thumb to tease her. “Just to warn you, I might need to take some notes.”

Wendy laughed and moved a little closer. “I deserve that.”

“Tell me about your family,” I said. “How are your parents? What has J.J. been up to?”

Wendy perched an elbow on the armrest of the chair. “My parents, surprisingly, are still together, which I consider a miracle, because you must remember what my father was like.”

“Yes sir, sergeant major general,” I joked.

Wendy chuckled.

“You and your sister went to private school, didn’t you?”

“Yes, and I learned to play the clarinet. Daily lessons and a front row position in the school band.”

“Do you still play?” I asked.

She inclined her head. “Sadly, no. Truth is I sucked. I made dogs howl. Lizzie played quite well and she enjoyed it, but even so Dad didn’t let her keep the clarinet. ‘Your studies come first’ and all that,” she said impersonating her father’s voice.

We both laughed. “Sounds like your dad. What about J.J.? Where is he now?”

Wendy gazed at me lingeringly. “You don’t know?”

“No. We lost touch, remember?”