No! Raphael shouted. Now get the hell out of here and leave me alone! He turned his face toward the wall.
After the nurse had left and he was sure that he was alone, he cried.
Her name was Miss Joan Shimp, and Raphael hated her from almost the first moment he laid eyes on her. She was led into the room by the hospital chaplain, who said a few nice things about social workers and then left. Miss Shimp wore a businesslike suit. No starched white uniform for old Shimpsie. Nobody was going to ask her to empty a bedpan by mistake. She was a pear-shaped young woman with enormous hips, narrow shoulders, and no noticeable bosom. Her complexion was acne-ravaged, and she had dun-colored hair, an incipient mustache, a nasal voice, and what might best be described as an attitude problem. Well now, she started briskly, how are we doing? The nurses on the floor had all learned rather early not to say we to Raphael.
I dont know about you, lady, Raphael replied in a flat, unfriendly tone, but Im doing lousy.
Self-pity, Mr. Taylor? We must avoid self-pity.
Why? Its a dirty job, but somebodys got to do it.
This just wont do, she scolded.
Were not going to get along, lady. Why dont you just go away?
We can play this either way, Taylor. Her voice was sharp. Youve been assigned to me, and I am going to do my job. There are programs for people like you, and like it or not, you are going to participate.
Really? Dont bet the farm on it.
Things deteriorated rapidly from there.
Shimpsie talked about programs as if programs were holy things that could solve all the worlds problems. Raphael ignored her. His half-drugged mind was not particularly retentive, but he soon had a pile of books at his bedside, and every time Shimpsie entered his room, he would select a book at random and use it as a barrier. In one of his more outrageous moments Flood had once described social workers as representatives of a generation of bright young ladies who dont know how to type. Raphael clung to that definition. It seemed to help for some reason.
Shimpsie asked probing questions about his background and family. She liked the phrase dysfunctional family, and she was desperately interested in his feelings and relationships. Shimpsie, he felt, was queer for feelings and relationships. On one occasion she even screamed at him, Dont think! Feel!
And abandon twenty-five thousand years of human development? Not very likely, Shimpsie.
Miss Shimp! she snapped.
Whatever. He said it as insultingly as possible. Angleworms feel, Shimpsie. So do oysters, I imagine. I dont know about you, but I hope Ive come further than that.
Just for the sake of variety he would sometimes lie to her, inventing outrageous stories about a background as dysfunctional as he could concoct. She lapped it up, her eyes begging for more.
He hated her with a passion, but he began to long for her visits. In a strange sort of way Shimpsie was therapeutic.
Thats better, Taylor, Quillian said a week later. Youre starting to get the rhythm now. Dont stump. Make it smooth. Set the crutches down, dont jab at the ground with them. Try to keep from jarring your arms and shoulders.
Raphael, sweating profusely, grimly moved back and forth across the therapy room, gritting his teeth at the burning pain in his arms.
Why are you picking on Miss Shimp? Quillian said in a half-amused way.
Shimpsie? I pick on her because shes an asshole. Quillian laughed. Never heard a woman called an asshole before.
Would you prefer asshole-ess?
Asshole or not, youd better at least try to get along with her, Taylor.
Why should I bother?
Because you cant get out of here without her okay. She has to sign a release before theyll discharge you. Okay, enough bullshit. Get back to work.
A week or so later Uncle Harry made another trip to Portland, alone this time. Good to see you again, Rafe, he said, shaking Raphaels hand. He glanced at the crutches leaning in the corner. I see that youre getting around now.
Raphael looked at him through the haze of the shot he had just been given. What brings you down here, Uncle Harry?
Oh his uncle replied a bit evasively, this and that. I thought Id stop by and see how you were doing.
Im coming along.
Good for you. Have they given you any idea yet about when youll be getting out of here?
Raphael shifted in the bed, wincing slightly. I imagine that its going to be a while longer.
You going back to school when you get out?
I havent really thought about it yet.
Uncle Harry gave him a speculative look. Im going to give this to you straight, Rafe. I think we know each other well enough for that.
Okay, Raphael replied, what is it?
Its your mother, Rafe.
Mom?
Shes always been a delicate woman, you know, and Im afraid all of this has been too much for heryour fathers death, your accident, all of it. Shes a littlewelldisoriented. Her doctors say
that shell come out of it eventually, but its going to take time.
Id better go home. I can get around nowa little. Ill see if theyll discharge me.
Uhthats going to be a problem, Rafe. You see, whats happened is that your mother haswell, sort of retreated. I mean, shes not catatonic or anything, but its just that in her mind none of this has really happened. As far as shes concerned, your fathers away on a business trip, and youre off at college. Shes perfectly happytalks about you both all the time. The doctors think that it might be best to keep her that way for the time being. If you came back with youron crutches, that isshed have to face things shes just not ready to come to grips with yet.
I see.
I hate to have to be the one to tell you, but its better coming from me than from somebody else. Just give her a little time, thats all. Write to her from time to timethat sort of thing. Ill keep you posted on her progress.
Thanks for telling me, Uncle Harry.
Thats what family is for. If youre not too tired, there are a couple of other things I need to discuss with you. Im fine, Raphael told him.
Okay, Rafe. Uncle Harry opened his briefcase. Financially youre pretty well off. Sir?
Youll have a fairly comfortable income. Edgaryour fatherhad a number of insurance policies. Edgar was always very interested in insurance.
He was a careful man.
That he was, Rafe. That he was. The policies will cover all your medical expenses here and give you an income besidesnot very big, actually. Walking-around money is about all. Youll also be receiving Social Security disability benefits.
Ive never had a job, Uncle Harrynot a real one. Im not eligible for Social Security.