“Your father has a bleeding ulcer,” the emergency room doctor told Friday. “He’s losing a lot of blood.”
Hand on Friday’s elbow, the doctor steered Friday through the curtains around Lee’s bed.
“He needs a transfusion,” the doctor said.
“I heard that,” Lee called out. “You think the curtain’s made of cinder blocks?”
Friday twitched back the curtain. Lee thrashed, dislodging the oxygen clip in his nose.
“I don’t want scab blood!” Lee shouted. “You get me a union donor. And I want to see his card. Or you let me die!”