Chapter 4: Treated and Released

Wednesday, June 29, 1983

I woke up around eight, feeling fine. The most annoying part was the monitors they’d hooked me to. Of course, if you’re in the ICU, you’re supposed to need monitoring.

I read for a bit, and then a nurse came in, bringing breakfast.

“Morning,” she said.

“Good morning,” I said.

“Got some food for you. I hear you’re our miracle patient!”

“Physics, most likely. I’m sure some of the engineering kids could tell us how the forces distributed themselves such that I didn’t get hurt.”

She wrinkled her nose, then laughed. “Ah, but it probably takes a miracle to get them to do that!”

“Maybe so. I have no plans to test the theory.”

“Good! We hate sending patients off just for them to come back worse!”

I chuckled.

She checked a few things, then took off.

Mom and Dad came in around nine-thirty, planning to meet someone from Northwestern.

The guy showed up about ten minutes later. “Hi,” he said, shaking hands with me first, then Dad and Mom. “I’m Jerry Pierce, one of the assistant directors at NHSI. We do not like it when students wind up in the hospital!”

“I can’t imagine you would,” I said.

Everyone chuckled.

“At least you’re fine, and so is Laura Waters,” he said. “Sometimes it scares the heck out of me that Sheridan runs right through campus. Once you’re here any length of time, you know to respect it, but ... second day, right? You don’t happen to know why she was upset, do you? Or even know her at all?”

I shook my head. “As close as I can figure it, she mistook me for someone else, someone who she didn’t like. The thing is, I have met her before. We debated her in the fall of 1981. Then we — my family and I — randomly bumped into her and her family while we were touring the Michigan campus last summer.”

Dad nodded. “Steve pointed her out then. We didn’t even really talk to them, though.”

“And that’s it?” he said.

“That’s it. I didn’t even know she was here until just before Assembly, and we didn’t talk until after. That’s it, except for those other two times.”

He shook his head. “Must have been mistaken identity. She said the same thing, that you reminded her of someone and she had an emotional response and tried to run away.”

Whew! It was lucky that we’d gotten on the same page on that. Laura claiming to actually know me would’ve been awkward.

“She’d have been fine, but she stumbled,” I said.

He nodded. “We have a few witnesses, though no one was all that close. It’s obvious she was very upset.” He looked a bit confused for a second, then shook it off. “In any case, obviously you’re in no trouble, and she isn’t, either. She wants to continue with the program, and I imagine you do, too.”

“I’m languishing here wishing I was in class!” I said, chuckling.

“That’s the spirit! I’m sure they’ll have you out of here in no time. Anyway ... you and Laura work it out, but if you need to steer clear of each other, we can easily accommodate that.”

“I’ll say something if there’s an issue,” I said.

“Good. Thank you!” he said, shaking hands again, then heading out.

Aunt Monica came by a bit later, bringing Grandmother and Professor Berman. They had to reassure themselves that I was fine. Grandmother called me her favorite grandson, but had an apologetic look for Aunt Monica. I suspected she had three favorite grandsons, really. If I was the favorite, it was because I hadn’t worn out my welcome.

They didn’t stay that long, but it was nice to see them. Mom and Dad talked a while longer after they left, but then they decided to go, too. After all, as everyone noted, I was fine.

Wonder of wonders, Doctor Haskins turned up around eleven-thirty, pronounced me fit as a fiddle, and got me a wheelchair. Hospitals ... sigh.

Mr. Pierce was waiting when I came out. He drove me over to Sargent. I’m sure they wanted to make completely sure we couldn’t figure out some crazy way to sue them for this.

I thanked him when I got out, then started walking over. A surprising number of people spotted me and wanted to see how I was doing. I doubted many of them knew my name (or, perhaps, they knew that much, since people must have referred to me).

When I came in, I spotted the girls right away. Jasmine was up first, running over and nearly tackling me (and giving me a particularly list-worthy kiss). She had dark circles under her eyes and looked ... worn. I hated to see that, but I wasn’t surprised. I’d slept well, but it didn’t surprise me that she hadn’t.

By the time we got to the table, the rest were all up, hugging me.

“They let you go, huh?” Angie said.

“I wasn’t crazy enough for them to hold me,” I said.

She grinned. “Yet!”

Jasmine let the others greet me, then said, “Go get some food, before they keep you from eating at all.”

“Yes, Ma’am!” I said, making her giggle. “I am hungry. Hospital food sucks.”

I went and grabbed some lunch. It was some sort of meatloaf. I might have made fun of it before, but it was actually pretty good, and ... it wasn’t hospital food.

Part of me felt like I was on autopilot. Shouldn’t I be obsessing about Laura and what this meant? The thing was, I couldn’t do anything about it until Laura turned back up. Plus, it’d always been a possibility. Now that it was confirmed ... well. What might it mean? Presumably, we’d find out soon.

When I sat down with my lunch, the other kids at the table wanted to know what it was like being hit by a truck. I told them I couldn’t really remember the impact, just that feeling of being fine once I landed. We all agreed that I’d been very lucky.

I allowed myself to just be swept along with the day. Laura might be out of the hospital or not. Hopefully, our paths would cross soon. Also ... less dramatically.

Owen gave me a look when I came in.

“Back for more, Mister Marshall?”

“I’m not quite dead yet,” I said. “I feel happy!”

He chuckled, then gave me a look. I guess it dawned on him.

“Wait!” he said. “You’re the student that got hit by a truck?”

“That’s me.”

“I’m sorry. I’d heard it was a girl.”

“That, too.”

“What?”

“I got hit after knocking a girl out of the path of the truck. She hurt her ankle, while I’m apparently made of tougher stuff.”

That got a laugh out of the whole class.

“I should have made you put the marbles in your mouth first!” he said.

Things settled down and we got through class. I was pretty sure word would spread quickly. This had the feel of another ‘celebrity’ moment, much as I really didn’t need that right now.

Somewhat on a whim, and somewhat not — maybe it was just joy in being alive — I bought six tickets for Simon and Garfunkel. Good ones, too. I spent way too much, I’m sure, but this was a once-in-two-lifetimes show for me and Angie, and the universe (or whatever) had just reminded me that life can be short.

The odds were very high that only four of us would go. Cammie couldn’t (without bending the rules), and right now the odds of Laura being the sixth were very low. Aunt Monica should come through for us (particularly since Mom and Dad approved), but if not, I figured I’d just roll the dice while I was hot.

In any case, I was nearly certain that I could resell all six of them, or the two I doubted would get used. Some brave Northwestern kids might want to go enough to risk getting caught, or maybe some college kids might. The grad students probably already had theirs. If nothing else, waving them around at the stadium would likely work.

What’s money for, in the end, if not to use it? That’s especially true when you can be as certain as reasonably possible that you can always get more.

Cammie and I met up after class, with a plan to head to the library. I thought we could easily overdo research, with a top-notch university library within easy walking distance, but right now we needed it. We would just need to take sensible breaks or we’d burn out.

She’d brought Rita and Manny with her. It turned out that Manny was in her class group.

They were a lot of fun, really. He was a clown, while she had a quiet, wry sense of humor. They were obviously a couple outside of Debate, not just in CX. The whole ‘celebrity’ thing died down quickly with them, thank goodness.

We spent about three hours working, then took off for Sargent. One of the Northwestern clubs was showing ‘The Maltese Falcon’ tonight, and Cammie wanted to go. So did Manny and Rita. I was up for it, but then remembered that I really should call Jane, so I begged off.

Cammie lagged behind just enough to confirm that I wasn’t hurting. I told her I’d promised to call my therapist if anything major happened. She, of course, knew that both Angie and I occasionally saw a therapist, and didn’t want any more detail than that.

As we were getting close to Sargent, I spotted Laura coming towards us on a different path, using a crutch. Cammie saw her, too.

“I’ll step away,” Cammie said. “But I’m punching her if she tries anything. Just saying.”

Well ... that made it clear that Cammie knew about at least some of my encounter with Laura before trucks were involved.

“Got it,” I said.

She stepped away and I stopped and waited. Laura looked like she was going to change direction, but then made a face and continued my way.

Once she was close, she said, “I guess I owe you thanks.”

“I didn’t do it for thanks. No one deserves to be run over by a truck.”

“Not sure I always agree with that,” she said, scowling. “Look — thanks. I don’t know why you did it, and that bothers me, but I said I’d talk, so I will. Not yet. I’m not at all ready yet.”

“I can give you time.”

“You’d better.”

“Look ... I can give you time. Not weeks. This is too important, and you know it.”

She chuckled. It was not a nice sound. Not at all.

“Oh, I know it. Fine! I ... fine. Not weeks,” she said.

“If I may...”

“You may not. Whatever you think you have to say, it won’t help. Not right now.”

“Fine.”

I stepped aside and let her proceed, then went over to Cammie.

“She didn’t look happy,” Cammie said.

“She’s not,” I said.

“How do you get saved from being hit by a truck and not be happy?”

“It’s complicated,” I said. “Look, I don’t understand all of it, or even much of it, but ... apparently ... well. It’s like the whole eyewitness testimony thing. I remind her of someone that did something terrible, and she can’t just not see that. Maybe with time she can.”

“That’s ... weird. Like ... really weird,” she said. The skepticism was obvious.

I had no choice but to brazen it out. “Tell me about it. I had no idea until yesterday. It wasn’t the best way to find out.”

“I’ll say!” she said, chuckling a bit. “Okay, so ... I’ll stifle my desire to claw her eyes out. But she’d better not fuck with you. No one messes with my Debate partner. Or my friend.”

“Thanks, Cammie. You know that no one had better fuck with you, either.”

“I know. That’s part of it.”

I thought about it on the way to dinner. Cammie had given into the ‘I remind her’ story quickly. Too quickly? My instinct said ‘yes.’ Of course, she knew about as well as anyone that there could be no better rational explanation. When could I possibly have seen Laura enough to make her hate me?

Still ... at some level, she also knew it wasn’t right, even if it couldn’t be wrong. She was trusting me because ... we trusted each other. That, or she didn’t want to press the issue right now. She wanted to believe me, but at some point, someday, she might not be able to.

I put that aside when I got to the dining hall. Jas and I hugged and kissed, then discussed our days. I still didn’t have the best idea of what Jas, Angie, and Paige were doing over in Drama, but it wasn’t clear to me that they knew, either. It was clear that she was still rattled, and also borderline exhausted. Paige and Cammie both seemed rattled, too. Angie ... well. Rattled in a different way.