Spiral

up this time, catching his elbow and hearing a cracking sound before he roared in pain. The buck knife clattered off the tiles to the right of me.
    Shaking my head to clear my vision, I saw a blurry figure hobbling toward the parking garage. He was favoring his right leg and cradling his right arm.
    Then, from a middle distance, I heard him yell, ”Fucker, next time I won’t stop... to see your eyes before I do you.”
    Starting to get up, I found my feet wouldn’t work quite right, and my head spun no matter how hard I shook it There was quite a lot of my blood seeping through—hell, pouring through the slash wound in my left arm, and I realized that’s what had made the lip of the pool so slippery.
    A vehicle I couldn’t see through the bushes peeled rubber coming out of the garage and up the drive toward the road. My feet were still flopping a little at the ends of my ankles when I heard the sound of a heavy door by the hotel building and some shouts followed by running footsteps and more shouts.
    I closed my eyes, tried to picture the guy. White, rough features, solid build. Oh yeah, and a tattoo on the forearm of his knife hand. Not a Marine Corps one, though. This was of a spider.
    Some people were over me now, at least one gagging as another yelled to get a towel or something, for crissake. A third person from nearer the hotel said they’d already called 911.
    I’d been hurt before, and I didn’t think I was in shock. In feet, I was sure of it, right up till the moment I passed out.

FOURTEEN

    A s Nancy sank deeper and deeper, I dived into the water after her. I thought my clothes would weigh me down, but instead they buoyed me up. Then I realized I was wearing a life vest, which I couldn’t seem to make my fingers unbuckle. When I finally got the thing off, I took a huge breath and started kicking for the bottom.
    The salt water burned my eyes, and all I could see was blue-black shimmering, some tiny organisms drifting past my face. Then I spotted Nancy. Or her hair, at least, still billowing up but still out of reach as well.
    Locking my knees, I kicked even harder, both legs scissoring from the hips as I extended my fingers toward the waving strands of—
    Which was when somebody dropped a garbage can lid next to me.
    The other guy in my hospital room looked over, sheepish in the dull glow of the EXIT sign above our door. ”Sorry, pal. Bedpan slipped right outta my hands.”
    I think I said something, then lay my head back against the softest pillow God had ever helped the hand of man to fashion.
    * * **

    ”I don’t think it was shock,” said the doctor with a Creole accent overlaid with some French, flipping through my chart at the side of the bed.
    ”Neither did I before I blacked out.”
    She frowned, creating bittersweet chocolate lines in a milk chocolate complexion. ”Mild concussion, more likely. Here,” her finger ran across a page, ‘Patient says that he fell and struck the back of his head.’”
    I still felt a little ache there. ”Yeah, but just on a lounge chair.”
    ”Mr. Cuddy from”—the doctor glanced back at the chart—”Boston, you are almost six feet, three inches tall. Whether we are in your Massachusetts, my Haiti, or our Florida, that is a long way for your head to gather momentum before striking anything.” She put the chart back on its hook at the foot of my bed. ”The reason I admitted you after Emergency finished its work.”
    I looked down at my left forearm. The flesh under the white gauze sent a muffled throbbing all the way to my brain. ”How long have I been here?”
    ”About nine hours.”
    Making it sometime Thursday morning. ”How long have you been here?”
    A tired smile. ”It is less that and more how much longer I will be here.” Then back to her immediate business. ”You may have some short-term memory loss or confusion about the last forty-eight hours. Other memories may fade in and out. Simply work through all this without worrying about it. There will be two prescriptions waiting for you at the Discharge Desk, both regarding your arm. One will be for an antibiotic; please take it as directed until the pills are exhausted. The other will be a painkiller, to be used at your discretion within the limits on the prescription itself. Please don’t engage in any strenuous activity for a week. After that time, you should come back to us or visit your physician in Boston to have the sutures removed.”
    ”How many stitches did it