Lots of hospital time yesterday. The upshot is: Im done with the brace and bandages and Im to start walking again. Now. Yippididodah! Or as Raymond Chandler might say . . . She was a blond. A blond to make a bishop kick a hole in a stained glass window. From 30 feet away she looked like a lot of class. From 10 feet away she looked like something made up to be seen from 30 feet away. She was trouble; she wasnt hard, but shed heard all the answers and was remembering the ones she could use sometime. Shes lying on the bed, brazen, like some down town two bit hooker sizing up the next poor sap. She looks me in the eye, raises her skirt. I see the scar, the line straight and red. Skilled, precise. Someone knew what they were doing alright. Tibial plateau Id say if I had to guess, but Im not guessing its on the paper. I show her the crutches, but the broad aint playing, says shes hooked on the zimmer and aint nobody gonna change that and shes too washed up anyways to try. She drops her gaze, starts looking shifty and I know shes holding something back. And then the dime drops: She aint done the dam exercises. Time stood still like time standing still. I dont know for how long, I had no watch, and who needs one when you got a mobile, and they dont make that kinda time in watches anyhows. But time was one thing I didnt have for poker with some dame in a tin pot town in a crummy joint that even the roaches had lost interest in. If youre talking, then Im listening, otherwise times up lady. She lies there, saying nothing, she was thinking, and I could see even on this short acquaintance that thinking was always going to be a problem to her. She looks down at her knee then spills. Were talking load bearing. As of now. No hopping, no braces. No tubi grip. The whole shebam. She s got poise Ill give her that, doesnt even blink those baby blues with the blank expression of wet stones. I check the notes, scrawled on headed paper, official, see my name implicated. Liam Merlowe. Physio. Im caught tighter than a moth in a flashlight if I had a flash light with a moth caught in it and she knows it. Im to start walking again. Youve gotta teach me Mr. Merlowe. Swell, I say, you go home and start making loom bands sweetheart, Ill see you same time next week. I needed a break, I needed a drink. I needed a quiet table in the darkened corner of some gin joint where the smoke hides tomorrow. What I had was a coat, a scowl and a second hand Dodgers cap. I put them on and left the room.
Posted on: Wed, 16 Jul 2014 09:01:59 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015