Chapter 6

I woke up disoriented. I had no idea where I was at first, and felt strangely limp. Like I was ripped out of a deep sleep. Slowly, I realized I was in a strange room, wearing some kind of gown. It was a hospital gown. Then I realized that I was in a hospital bed. So, I was probably in a hospital. I closed my eyes to calm myself down, until the memories came back to me. Then I started taking stock on my body.

My right eye was swollen shut, but the overall pain was way better than I remembered. There was an infusion going into my right hand that was probably the cause.

When I looked around the room, I noticed Claire sitting in a chair next to a window, looking into the darkness outside. I was in the parking lot in the morning. If it was dark now, I must have been out for quite some time. I tried to remain quiet, until a female doctor entered the room, causing Claire to look up and notice me being awake. She immediately was up and next to me, grabbing my hand.

“You’re awake! Finally! You scared the hell out of us!” she said, sounding relieved beyond measure. Her eyes looked slightly swollen, remnants of her badly washed off makeup still present, and she was wearing the same clothes I had seen her wear in the parking lot.

I looked around and noticed nobody else waiting. Then I looked at her hands squeezing mine, and finally back into her eyes, with a mixture of irritation and anger. She quickly let go of me and looked hesitant for a moment before the doctor shooed her back into the chair so she could check on me. She first searched the gauze pads on my stomach and chest for discoloration, then spoke while checking my head.

“Good evening, Mr. Brown, it is nice to see you’re up. You took quite the beating. How much do you remember?” She smiled at me. I greatly enjoyed the feeling of that featherlight touch of her fingertips on my forehead.

“Baton to the face, baton to the chest, my brother helping me out by showing off his best Usain Bolt impersonation, knife to the stomach, then ... I’m here, missing my pants.” I answered matter of fact, while counting the events off with my fingers. “So, what’s the damage?”

She was still smiling, though she gave Claire a short look as I mentioned my brother before she answered me.

“The laceration above your eye looks good for now. We glued it up, but It will probably take a few days for the whole swelling to go down. You have a broken rib that got slightly dislocated, but we fixed that in surgery. It will cause you some discomfort for a while, so no heavy lifting.”

I snorted, causing her to smirk and me to realize she had downplayed the part about the discomfort. She continued.

“We wrapped it in a Brace to support it, and it should stop hurting in about a week. It can hurt for three to four weeks when moving, though.”

She waited for me to signal my understanding with a nod before she continued.

“You were lucky with the puncture wound. While the blade missed your major organs and blood vessels, it did sever a few muscles. The surgeon stitched everything back together, but you really need to try and give them a rest. Normally we would immobilize the affected area, but, given it being your midsection, and relatively small, you’ll have to exercise self-restraint. We’re keeping you overnight to make sure there won’t be any lingering effects from the anesthesia, which I’m confident won’t happen, but after that ... You should let your family look after you for a while and help you out. Would that be possible?” she finally asked, looking at Claire.

“Of course!” Claire answered, enthusiastically nodding, while I gave her a firm “No!” at the same time, confusing the doctor for a moment.

“I’ll be just fine, thank you!” I said with conviction.

“Tim! Please!” Claire protested.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Brown. But while this isn’t life threatening at the moment, if I can’t release you into someone’s care ... I’ll have to ask you to stay for a few more days instead.” the doc told me, causing my mood to drop significantly.

“Fine!” I conceded, but was sure I’d be out of there as soon as possible again.

“Your GP can remove the stitches from your chest and the five staples from your stomach in a week. Ten days tops.” she informed me.

“Five staples? The hell did he stab me with? A meat cleaver!?” I asked in shock.

“Sorry, but that was us. We had to widen the incision to check for damages. But it will still leave a nice scar you can show off to your friends.” she lightly chuckled. “Any questions?”

“Well...” I hesitated for a moment, then she encouraged me to speak up. “Pardon my French here, but why does my dick feel like I need to ask you for a penicillin shot?”

This time it was her who snorted. “Okay, at least I know your head is working just fine. We placed a urinary catheter before the surgery. We removed it about half an hour ago. It can cause a burning sensation, but it should vanish within an hour. Anything else?”

“How late is it, how long are visiting hours, and where’s my stuff?” I asked. It seemed to perplex her a little. In truth, I just wanted to know how long I had to put up with Claire if I couldn’t make her go home on her own.

“It’s 6:22 PM, visiting hours end at Eight, and what is left of your clothes is in that bag hanging from the bottom of your bed.”

I thanked her and she left the room. She wasn’t gone for twenty seconds, however, before the door opened again. This time, it was Ava, Aunt Danielle and Uncle John coming in and quickly surrounding my bed. Just what I needed at that moment, even more of them swarming me when I couldn’t run. Ava just about pissed me off when she, just like Claire before, tried to hold my hand. After all this time, after everything they did, they suddenly decided to show they cared? I doubted it, and she got the very same reaction as Claire had. It was Uncle John who talked first.

“Well, let me just take a photo of your face for Bill. He asked us to let him know how you are.” he grinned, holding out his phone and taking the picture as he spoke.

“He did? How does he even know?” I asked, perplexed.

“We were just having brunch with him when Claire called us. I got the impression he somehow took a liking to you. Apparently, you’re ‘like the son he never wanted’.” he chuckled.

“Yeah, sounds like Bill.” I commented and tried to reach the bag with my clothes. I immediately regretted it when the pain in my chest came back. The painkillers did not make this easy for me. They completely masked the resting pain, so I kept forgetting about the injuries when I didn’t move, and then screwed up by moving too enthusiastically.

“Tim ... why did you do that? Why did you put yourself in such danger? How could you be so reckless?” Aunt Danielle asked. I didn’t know what she was talking about.

“That may come as a surprise to you, seeing as getting my ass kicked and then being stabbed is normally one of my favorite pastimes, but it wasn’t exactly my choice!” I said, with a voice dripping in sarcasm. Turning to Claire I added “So, where are the fast and not-so-furious?”

Claire just looked at me questioningly.

“Golden Boy and your husband.” I clarified. While John let out a short involuntary laugh before catching himself upon noticing the scolding look from Aunt Danielle, Claire didn’t like my choice of nicknames for them.

“They were still at the police station giving statements when you came out of surgery. Why are you calling them that?” she asked, clearly disapproving.

“I thought the names fit. Aaron had to be told to get his wife and daughter out of harm’s way. And I’m telling you right now, if you keep defending Logan while I am lying here, you better get the fuck out. Did you follow the conversation before this shit blew up? They were there for him! Not me, him! And then, when I was busy defending myself, the asshole ran away, getting me stabbed!” I replied, anger rising in my voice with each word I said.

“Don’t you think you getting stabbed proves that running away would have been the better choice for you as well?” Aunt Danielle asked in a clinical voice.

I couldn’t believe the bitch! Ever since last Christmas, and despite her assurance that she wasn’t exclusively talking to me, she had only been pestering me, not them, to repair our relationship. And now, when I got hurt trying to help the ungrateful fucks, I get scolded for it!

I looked up at the infusion hooked to my hand, and noticed a little button to press that seemed to be connected to it by a cable. I thought it was maybe one of those dispenser-things that release pain meds if I press the button, so I pressed it repeatedly while I answered her.

“Let me point something out for you here. Again, they came for Logan. I suspect they came from Austin, since that’s where he lives and spends most of his free time now, and they said they ‘chased him down here’. So, try to picture this: They armed themselves, went on a multiple-hours long drive to find him, grabbed him, and then threatened him and his family. Following so far? What in all of this makes you believe they would have just gone home if we turned to run away!?” I asked her, now sounding more than just disgruntled. “Ask Bill if you don’t believe me. He taught me de-escalation techniques and I am convinced they wouldn’t have worked. They weren’t angry, or high, or drunk, they had planned to make Logan pay for something, and he knew it! That’s why he was ready to run the moment he saw them, and why they PREVENTED him from running! So, why are you still asking me why I didn’t run?”

“He has a point, Danny.” John pointed out.

“And before you pull any more accusations out of your ass, I didn’t do shit before the guy reached for his weapon!” I added.

“We really need to address that anger inside you, Tim. Why are you so hostile? I just want to help! You could have died!” Aunt Danielle asked, clearly taken aback by my outburst.

“So, THE FUCK, what!?” I remarked, hearing multiple gasps after shocking them with my statement. “If you expected an answer for why I’m hostile to you, maybe it’s because I don’t need a budget-psychologist, who keeps missing the plot, to start criticizing me the minute I wake up from fucking surgery!” I shouted, now clearly pissed. Then I shifted my attention to Claire and Ava.

“And the last people I need to show up right now are you assholes! What, did you think your presence would somehow comfort me!? There’s a reason I moved out! Do I need to paint you a fucking picture before you understand why I spend as little time as possible in your fucking presence!? None of you give a flying fuck about me the whole damn year around, while Princess over there and your Golden Boy can do no wrong, but now, that I’m in the hospital and the police are involved, you suddenly act like you give a damn?! Have you already forgotten why you were in that damn parking lot in the first place? You think...”

At that moment, an older woman in scrubs entered the room and asked me what I needed. I looked at her in angry confusion.

“You’re pressing the call button, Dear.” she said patiently, pointing at the button I was holding.

“Oh...” I said, rapidly trying to curb my temper. “I thought this was one of those drug dispensers I saw on TV. Sorry.”

“Are you in pain?” she asked, now more interested, moving to the foot of my bed to check my chart.

“It’s manageable.”

“Then why are you trying to activate a drug dispenser?” she scolded me with a stern expression.

“Well, you see, my loving family here is giving me shit for being beaten and stabbed. And I just thought the whole thing would be more fun with a little morphine.” I said, matter of fact, holding my left side. The shouting had taken its toll on my ribs and stomach muscles.

The nurse looked from one face to the other. All four of them looked at least somewhat uncomfortable, but Claire looked like she was on the verge of breaking down. Her hands were shaking, balled into fists at her sides. Her lips were trembling, despite her pressing them together to form a thin line. But the most prevalent thing about her appearance at that moment, were the tears rolling down her face while Aunt Danielle tried to silently comfort her.

Uncle John regarded me with a look that basically screamed apology. The family, or rather his mother, must have already reminded them of forgetting my birthday for the second year in a row. Last year I had let him and Aunt Danielle off the hook, since they are not my parents. And while it’s still not their job to remember my birthday, after they had found out about my birthday being ignored and forgotten last year, they had used that Thanksgiving dinner to put me on the spot and try to make the others remember. I had specifically asked them not to do that because I knew exactly what would come out of it. They insisted, and instead of doing any good, it just caused me more grief. So, I kind of had expected them to do better this year instead of undoubtedly attending yet another family orgy I wasn’t invited to.

Ava just stood to the side, not looking anyone in the eyes. She must have known perfectly well that the pain I went through on an almost daily basis was mostly caused by her actions in school.

The nurse looked at me, noticed me holding my side and made a decision.

“Alright. I’m sorry, but I must ask you all to leave now. I don’t know what is going on, but this patient just got out of surgery, and if he doesn’t calm down and relaxes, it could cause some serious complications.” she announced with authority.

At that, Claire looked scared and quickly readied herself to leave.

“I’m sorry.” she said, before leaving the room.

The other three shortly followed her outside and, as soon as the door was closed behind them, I spoke to the nurse.

“Thank you!” I’m pretty sure she could hear how sincere that was.

“No problem. Need anything else?” she asked, her tone was suspiciously understanding. I wondered if I had gotten so loud, she heard my rant from outside.

“Could you pass me the bag with my belongings real quick? I need to check my wallet for my insurance card.”

“Insurance? I don’t have a note of that missing for anyone on this floor. Shouldn’t that have been taken care of by your parents already?” she asked with surprise.

“Probably. But I have my own insurance. The doc said I could leave tomorrow if there are no complications overnight. If so, I’d like to be able to leave without having to wait for them to sign stuff. That would be possible despite me not being eighteen yet, right?”

“Darling, I’ve been a nurse for thirty-six years now. I’ve seen sixteen-year-old girls come into the ER by themselves after their water broke. They stayed in the labor room for ten hours before finally giving birth, gave the child up for adoption, and then left again by themselves. Their parents didn’t even know they were pregnant until the hospital-bill came in the mail. If there is no medical necessity to keep you, nobody will stop you from leaving.” she explained as she handed me the bag. I produced my Insurance Card out of my wallet, and she promised to update my file. Then she left and I finally went back to sleep.

The next day went much as I had hoped. Off the IV-painkillers, I was surprised about the pain distribution. Honestly, the stab wound in my stomach hurt less than my broken rib. My stomach felt like the mother of all muscle aches, but the chest-pain was explosive and kept stopping my movements. Hearing me explain that to the doctor checking me over, he just nodded. Apparently, this was normal.

“These are Zydol capsules” the doctor said, handing me three pills in a little paper-pouch. “If you feel pain, try an ibuprofen first. Zydol can cause severe drowsiness, dizziness and blurred vision, basically making you useless for the day, so only take them if the ibuprofen isn’t enough to let you sleep. We also prepared the note for school. Try to get an appointment with your GP as soon as possible, so they can take out the staples from your stomach and the stitches from your chest in time.”

I could finally call for an uber and had it drive me to the Walmart parking lot to retrieve my Jeep. My shirt didn’t survive the ER intake, but I had my training clothes in the back of my car. Interestingly, the uber driver didn’t seem phased at all by the shirtless, battered and bruised guy who sat in his backseat.

I arrived at the parking lot and, to my relief, found no parking ticket. The big dark spot next to my front tire, however, made me pause for a moment. I suddenly had absolutely no interest in going back to that house and being confronted with these people again, so I drove to the office instead. It was almost empty, being a Sunday and all, but the ones who were there once again offered me the support I needed. The simple difference between them and my family was that I actually believed them when they seemed concerned for my wellbeing.

I dropped the adapter off in Bill’s office, went downstairs to the basement, and sat at my desk. But I didn’t have anything to do there, so it didn’t take long before my thoughts started drifting back to the fun I had with Tess on this desk. As I was contemplating my life-choices, my phone rang.

“Timothy Brown?” I answered the call.

“Good day, Mr. Brown. This is Sergeant Mills from Harris County. We just tried to meet you in the hospital but were told you already left. We’d still need your statement for yesterday’s events. Would it be possible to meet with us?”

“Oh, of course! I was discharged this morning and went to the office. Do I have to come in or would it be possible for your men to meet me here, so I don’t have to move around so much?”

They quickly agreed to meet up in the office and stepped through my opened door half an hour later.

“Sergeant Mills?” I asked, offering him my right hand before we sat down. He got right to the point.

“Yes. Thank you for making time on short notice. You see, the parking lots at Walmart stores have quite effective surveillance coverage. So, we already got a pretty clear picture of the fight, in addition to the statements from your family members. The reason we wanted to talk to you today is not just to make sure we have the complete picture, I’m afraid. There are some contradictions in the information we received that we’d like to sort out.” he explained after shaking my hand.

“Contradictions?” I asked surprised. I really couldn’t imagine which part of their stories could be contradicting each other.

“Yes. Could you give us your version of the events first?” he asked carefully. I didn’t have a problem with it, so I told him what I remembered without reservation.

“ ... Then, while one of them was holding Logan, another one came towards me and reached for his weapon. That’s when the fight started and we didn’t talk much more. The surveillance tape will tell you more than I could from that point onwards.” I concluded my story.

“Hmm. You see, your brother, Logan, insists that he doesn’t know the three men.” the sergeant told me, with an appraising look to gauge my reaction.

“No way. He clearly recognized them first and tried to run, so he also knew about their intentions.”

He just kept looking at me, like he wanted me to elaborate on that. So, being the law abiding citizen I was, that also smelled an opportunity to fuck over the infallible Golden Boy, I did. Whatever Logan had gotten himself into, I felt no sympathy towards him, and certainly no loyalty. So, I also felt no need to lie to the police for him!

“Look, my brother and I don’t get along that well. In fact, the less we have to interact with each other, the happier we both are. So, I don’t know what’s going on in his life. I don’t have the faintest idea who these three men are, or why they were demanding money from him. But not only were they very sure about who he was, they even recognized our sister, and called her by her name without any of us telling it to them. That would be quite the coincidence if these three were looking for another Logan, who looked just like my brother and also had a sister called Ava. Did you find out who they are?”