Read Online Speak to the Earth by William Bell - Free Book Online Page B

doors. He skidded to a halt in front of the desk and told the old woman behind the glass that he was Jimmy Lormer’s nephew. After clicking a few computer keys, she told Bryan that a doctor would be with him soon.
    He sat down in a plastic armchair just as Waiter entered the waiting room. Bryan wondered if he looked as wet and bedraggled as Walter did. Across the room a young mother waited, a toddler with a runny nose squirming in her lap. Bryan fidgeted. He drummed his fingers on the chair arms. He crossed and recrossed his ankles. He flipped through a four-month-old magazine and tossed it back onto the coffee table.
    Jimmy must be pretty bad, he thought, or they would have said something to me right away. If he was okay, thelady at reception would have said so. I wonder if — Bryan did not want to complete the thought. He felt an ache in his throat and suddenly his eyes filled with tears. He wiped them away quickly, stealing a glance at the woman nearby.
    Mom should be here, he thought. She’s so damn selfish with her stupid causes. She —
    “Bryan Troupe?”
    Bryan jumped from his seat, eyes riveted on the doctor who stood in the doorway of the waiting room, holding a clipboard. His heart raced. Here it comes.
    “Would you come with me, please.”
    Walter and Bryan followed her into a small consulting room. She pushed the door shut behind them.
    “Is he …?” Bryan asked.
    “He’s not in danger.” The doctor reported that she had set Jimmy’s arm, which had been broken badly in two places, upper and lower. His leg was sprained and bruised. She had also treated his abrasions and contusions. “That’s cuts and bruises,” she added. “He’s in recovery and he’s sedated.”
    “That’s it?”
    “That’s it, yes. If you want to call a mangled arm and a general mauling ‘it’.”
    “He’s okay!” Bryan exclaimed to Walter, who nodded. Then, to the doctor, “Can we see him?”
    “Not for a few hours, I’m afraid. By then, visiting hours will be over, so you might as well go home and come back tomorrow.”
    Dog gave them a howling welcome, dancing on the end of his leash.
    “How about I make us a pot of coffee, Walter, after we get into some dry clothes?” Bryan said as they pulled into the driveway and parked by the trailer.
    Walter nodded and entered his trailer.
    Bryan’s limbs felt heavy and lazy as he took a hot shower, then dressed in jeans and his warmest shirt to drive away the chill that had settled in his bones.
    He went down to the kitchen and called Ellen’s number. When no one answered he looked up the number for the police station. Before the ringing started on the other end, he slammed down the phone. “The hell with her,” he hissed.
    Walter pushed open the door, removed his boots and took a chair. Bryan poured the coffee, set out milk and sugar.
    Walter took a noisy sip. “Interesting day.”
    “That’s for sure. I’m glad Jimmy’s okay.”
    “He’s a pretty tough guy, your uncle.”
    Bryan realized, as he studied the weathered face across from him, that Walter must have been worried, too. He was fond of Jimmy — of all Bryan’s family, for that matter.
    “Your mom’s pretty tough, too,” Walter added.
    Yeah, that’s one word to describe her, Bryan thought. Stupid is another. Bryan reminded himself that when you were with Walter you had to listen carefully to hissilences. Was Walter trying to tell him not to worry about his mom? Well, he wasn’t worried about her at all. She’d be okay. It was Bryan who would have to go out tomorrow and wonder if everybody would stare at him or point to him behind his back and gossip. That’s Iris Troupe’s kid. She’s in jail, you know. She got hauled away like a load of wood by the cops. You’d think a woman would have more pride. And that pink track suit. I tell you!
    “Some people don’t appreciate what she’s trying to do,” Walter said.
    “You think she should have been out there in the rain getting a police