31

At the Southside ER I grabbed the first porter I saw to get him to bring a gurney out to the car. He recognized me. “You again, man?”

I recognized him. “You did so well last night, I thought I’d bring you another emergency.”

“I see somebody smacked your head.”

“It’s not me. There’s a woman in my car who was run down by a motorcycle.”

“Keeps you from getting in a rut, I guess.”

“Could you step on it, please?”

“If I step on it, brother, I’m not going to be able to push it, now am I?”

“She’s in a bad way.”

“I didn’t figure you brought her here to party.”

I tried desperately to think of something that would get him to hurry up. But finally he was beside the car. “She awake?” he asked me. “You awake, sweetie? Can you tell me your name?”

“Sweetie,” Mary said.

“Hey, I guessed right. It’s a gift. OK, Sweetie, I’m going to lift you out. I’ll be as careful as I can, but we need to get you up on this gurney, OK?” He lifted her out. “That wasn’t so bad, now was it?”

“I’ve had more fun at the dentist.”

“Careful, Sweetie, you going to hurt my feelings. Now we’re going inside. May be a bump or two, but I need you to keep talking to me. I need to know you ain’t lost consciousness. Got it?”

“Sweetie Pie,” Mary said.

“What’s that?” The guy began to roll.

“That’s my whole name. Sweetie Pie.”

“That’s great, Ms. Pie. Let’s keep hearing from you.”

Once Mary was on a bed in a curtained cubicle, I went to the desk to give them what information I could. I knew where she lived, what her phone number was, and her last name. But not her birth date, or insurance details or whether she was allergic to penicillin, or who her next of kin were. “I’ve only known her a few days. Sorry.”

The receptionist was pale with a long neck and no smile. She hailed a passing nurse. “Cubicle four, Howard.” She passed Howard a clipboard.

“Meanwhile,” I said, “I need some treatment of my own.”

“Oh yes?” She squinted. “Your head doesn’t look that bad to me.”

I showed her my right hand. It was swollen and purple. Not a pretty sight.

She frowned. “You didn’t beat up that woman you brought in, did you?”

I did better providing my own details for the receptionist with the smilectomy.

“Sit over there, Mr. Samson. We’ll call you when a doctor’s available.”

“Can’t I wait where my friend is?”

“This is a hospital, not a dating agency. Take a seat, please.”

I moved away from the desk. I wanted to be with Mary but my hand did not look good. Neither did the odd angle of my little finger. And it throbbed. While I stood looking at it the throbbing got worse. My hand felt like the thudding in the alley had sounded.

The moan…

I suddenly remembered that I’d heard a moan when I was in the alley listening to the thudding. It was a clear sound in my memory.

And… I must be the only person besides Mary who knew about the moan. Had the guys who ran Mary down injured somebody else?

It couldn’t be my mother, could it?

I made my way to cubicle four as fast as I could. An ER doctor was saying, “Tell me if this hurts. Or this. Or this.”

“Do I get a discount for all three?” Mary said.

“Excuse me,” I said.

“Please go away, Mr. Pie,” the doctor said. “I’m examining your wife now, as you can see perfectly well. Wait outside. I’ll be with you as soon as I can.”

“Mary, I’m sorry, but I have to leave.”

“Albert?”

“I think… Someone might be lying injured in the yard where the motorcycle was. I have to go back and see.”

She said nothing.

“Mary, did you hear me? Do you understand?”

“Don’t think less of my husband because he’s leaving me here all alone, doctor,” Mary said. “He’s squeamish. He can’t cope with anything medical.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” I said.

“Mary?” the doctor said as I left. “I thought your name was Sweetie. Have I got the right patient?”