His arms and shoulders were stronger now, and Quillian had given him his permanent crutches. They were called Canadian crutches, a term that seemed very funny to Raphael for some reason. They had leather cuffs that fit over his forearms, and they angled slightly at the handgrips. Using them was much less awkward, and he began to develop the smooth, almost stately pace of the one-legged man.
He haunted the halls of the hospital during the long hours of the night, listening to the murmurs and the pain-filled moans of the sick and the dying. Although he realized that it might have been merely coincidence, a series of random occurrences of an event that could happen at any time, Raphael became persuaded that most people die at night. Usually they died quietly, but not always. Sometimes, in the exhaustion with which he sandbagged his craving body to sleep toward the morning of each interminable night, he wondered if it might not somehow be him. It seemed almost as if his ghosting passage down the dim halls, like the turbulence in the wake of a passing ship, reached in through the doors and walls to draw out those teetering souls. Sometimes in those last moments before sleep he almost saw himself as the Angel of Death.
Once, during his restless midnight wandering, he heard a man screaming in agony. He angrily crutched his way to the nurses station. Why dont you give him a shot? he demanded.
It wouldnt do any good, the starched young nurse replied sadly. Hes an alcoholic. His livers failed. Nothing works with that. Hes dying, and theres nothing we can give him to relieve the pain.
You didnt give him enough, Raphael told her, his voice very quiet, even deadly.
Weve given him the maximum dosage. Any more would kill him.
So?
She was still quite young, so her ideals had not yet been eroded away. She stared at Raphael, her face deathly white. And then the tears began to run slowly down her cheeks.
Shimpsie noted from Raphaels chart that he had been refusing the painkilling medication, and she disapproved. You must take your medication, Raphael, she chided. Why?
Because the doctors know whats best for you.
He made an indelicate sound. Ive got the free run of the hospital, Shimpsie, he told her. Ive been in the doctors lounge, and Ive heard them talking. Dont bullshit me about how much doctors know. Theyre plumbers and pill pushers. I havent heard an original thought from one of them since Ive been here.
Why do you go out of your way to be so difficult?
Its an attention-getting device, Shimpsie. He smiled at her sweetly. I want you all to remember me. I quit taking the goddamn dope because I dont want to get hooked. Ive got enough problems already.
There are programs to help you break that habit, she assured him. Her voice was actually earnest.
Youve got a program for everything, havent you, Shimpsie? You send a couple of orderlies to my room about nine times a week to drag me to meetingsmeetings of the lame, the halt, and the blindwhere we all sit around spilling our guts for you. If you want to fondle guts, go fondle somebody elses. Mine are just fine the way they are.
Why cant I get through to you? Im only trying to help.
I dont need help, Shimpsie. Not yours, anyway.
You want to do it your way? Every client starts out singing My Way. Youll come around eventually.
Dont make any bets. As I recall, I warned you that you werent going to enjoy this. Youd save yourself a lot of grief if you just gave up on me.
Oh no, Taylor. I never give up. Youll come aroundbecause if you dont, youll stay here until you rot. Well grow old together, Taylor, because you wont get out of here until I sign you off. Think about it. She turned to leave.
He couldnt let her get in the last word like that. He absolutely couldnt. Oh, Shimpsie? he said mildly.
Yes?
You really shouldnt get so close to my bed, you know. I havent gotten laid for a long time. Besides, youve got a nice big can, and Im a compulsive fanny-patter.
She fled.
Finally, when the craving for the drugs had almost gone and the last dressings had been removed to reveal the puckered, angry red new scars on his hip and groin, when the Christmas season was upon them, Flood finally came to visit.
Their meeting was awkward, since there was very little they could really talk about. Raphael could sense in Flood that stifling unease all hospital visitors have. They talked desultorily of school, which was out for the Christmas holiday; of the weather, which was foul; and of nearly anything else except those uncomfortable subjects that by unspoken mutual consent they avoided.
I brought your luggage and books and your other stuff, Flood said. I decided to get an apartment off campus next semester, and I was pretty sure you wouldnt want the college to store your things. They tend to be a little careless.
Thanks, Damon.
Are you going to be coming back to school when you get out of here? Flood asked, a curiously intent look in his dark eyes.
I havent decided yet. I think Ill wait a semester or soget things together first.
Probably not a bad idea. Tackle one thing at a time. Flood walked to the window and stood looking out at the rain.
Hows Bel? Raphael asked, crossing that unspoken boundary.
Fineas far as I know, anyway. I havent been going down
there much. Bel gets a little tiresome after a while, and Ive been studying pretty hard.
You? Raphael laughed. I didnt think you knew how.
Flood turned back from the window, grinning. Im not much of a scholar, he admitted, but I didnt think itd look good to flunk out altogether. Old J.D.d like nothing better than to find an excuse to cut off my allowance.
Look, Raphael said uncomfortably, I really ran my mouth that night at Bels place. If you happen to see her, tell her I apologize, okay?
What the hell? You were drunk. Nobody takes offense at anything you say when youre drunk. Besides, you were probably right about her. I told you about that, didnt I?
All the same, Raphael insisted, tell her I apologize.
SureFlood shruggedif I see her. You need anything?
No. Im fine.
Id better get going then. Ive got a plane to catch. Going home for Christmas?
Its expected. Scenic Grosse Pointe for the holidays. Hot spit. At least itll pacify the old mankeep those checks coming. He looked at his watch. Im going to have to get cranked up. Ill look you up when I get back, okay?
Sure.
Take care, Gabriel, Flood said softly, and then he left. They did not shake hands, and the inadvertent slip passed almost unnoticed.
The hospital became intolerable now that his body was mending. Raphael wanted outawayanyplace but in the hospital. He became even more irritable, and the nurses pampered him, mistakenly believing that he was disappointed because he could not go home for Christmas. It was not the holiday, however. He simply wanted out.