Write me a Letter

look.
    ”I heard there was a nurse shortage,” I said, ”but I didn’t know things were this bad.”
    ”She’s comin’,” he said.
    ”How’re the others?” I said, my heart pounding away anxiously. I couldn’t bear to hear his answer; I shut my eyes. ”Two dead,” he said. ”One in intensive care.”
    ”Oh Jesus Christ,” I said.
    ”Yeah,” he said, sucking at his teeth. I didn’t know how to ask him who the survivor was. I couldn’t ask him about Benny, because he wasn’t Benny, he was Henry C. Clam. I couldn’t ask him about Henry C. Clam because I wasn’t supposed to know Henry C. Clam’s name. I couldn’t ask him about Solly because in the story I’d decided to tell there was no Solly, and anyway I only suspected the guy who came down the stairs after me was Solly. And I couldn’t ask him about Cookie, because I wasn’t supposed to know it was the feisty little cook from Dago Dan’s who had come gunning for Theo. And anyone else who got in his way. Well, it had to be Cookie, he was the only man in town the right age and the right color that Theo had come into visual contact with, and I was with him every second. It might, also, be conjectured that Cookie did overdo the small-town American local character a trifle, although there may be honest citizens that still say things like ”Come ’n’ get it, if you want it”—however, that may be hindsight on my part. But the cop unknowingly put me out of my misery.
    ”It was the guy you tried to help who made it,” he said. ”So far, anyway.”
    I turned away. ”Thank you,” I said silently. After a minute I said to the cop, ”You must have been out there.”
    ”Yeah,” he said. He leaned against the wall. ”First on the scene. Me and the sarge.” He shook his head. ”Bodies everywhere, never seen nothin’ like it in these parts.” A harassed-looking nurse bustled in right then.
    ”Out,” she said to the cop.
    ”Don’t go ’way,” he said to me. ”The lieutenant wants a word or two with you, he’ll be by later.”
    ”Tell him no grapes,” I said.
    The cop left. I opened my mouth to ask the nurse how I was; she immediately popped a thermometer in it. I closed it again. She took my pulse and wrote down the result. When she’d entered whatever my temperature was on my case sheet, I did manage to pop the question.
    ”You’ll live,” she said. She produced some scissors that were bent at the end out of her pocket and began cutting away the restraining bandages.
    ”What were those for?” I asked her.
    ”To keep you immobile while you slept. You are not supposed to move.”
    ”And this darling corset?”
    ”To prevent a recurrence,” she said.
    ”Of what?”
    ”Dr. Imre will tell you all the details,” she said. ”Now, do you want to go?”
    ”Love to,” I said. ”But I’m not supposed to move.”
    ”Very funny, Mr. Daniel,” she said. ”Do you have to go to the toilet?”
    I checked, then said, ”No, thanks.”
    ”Are you in any pain?”
    I checked, then said, ”Only when I laugh, and it doesn’t look like there’s going to be many of those around here for a while.”
    ”This is a hospital,” she said. ”Not a circus. Water by your right hand. Lunch in an hour. Dr. Imre will be by before then. Your bell-push is only to be used in emergencies. I understand that policeman will remain outside the ward to prevent any other visitors until his superior arrives.” She gave me a disapproving look and took herself out.
    ”It was a crime passionel,” I said to her starched back. ”I caught her in the act. With two acrobats and Rex, the wonder horse.”
    The door swished shut. Like babies, all doors should have rubber surrounds and thus be unslammable, is my new and revolutionary theory of a peaceful life. It didn’t look like being peaceful for long. Thank God Benny was alive, at least. What a mess.
    Last night. The first person on the scene, except for the combatants, was the hotel owner’s son. He took one look and ran off to a telephone. The second was the lady doctor staying at the hotel; unfortunately she turned out to be a doctor of Islamic studies, not all that much help in the circumstances. Then other locals began appearing, jabbering away excitedly. I hung on. I could feel that Benny was still breathing. The receptionist came running back. There was no local doctor but ambulances were on their way, likewise the police.
    The cops got there first, it wasn’t that long; then two