Page 50 of What You Own
Opening my eyes the first time takes so much effort. The throbbing gets worse, centered in my skull. My eyeballs want to explode. My mouth is dry, chalky. It’s all a blur of light and dark, colors and gray. Blinking hurts.
“Adam? Son? Can you hear me?”
Dad. I try to reply. Nothing comes out.
“It’s okay, don’t talk. You’re awake, that’s what matters.”
Something else matters, only I can’t remember what. I don’t know where I am or why. The tan blur hovering in front of me focuses briefly. Dad’s face. He’s smiling and crying, and that doesn’t make sense.
“Adam, the doctor is coming. Can you stay awake until gets here?”
I try but it’s too hard, and I slip back into the throbbing darkness.
Dad’s still there when I force my eyes open again. The throb has dulled a little, and I get him focused faster. Something wet cools my tongue and throat. A man in a white coat comes and shines a light in my eyes, and I want to curse at him for that, but talking hurts. I gurgle something nonsensical instead.
“Adam, I’m Dr. Cornwell,” the light-flashing bastard says. “I know talking is difficult. You’ve had a tube in your throat for three days. I’m going to ask a few questions. I want you to blink hard, once for yes and twice for no. Okay?”
Okay, I can do this. I blink once.
“Good. Do you know where you are?”
Twice.
“You’re at County Hospital. Three nights ago, you and another boy were attacked and beaten up. Do you remember that?”
Twice. Panic flutters in my chest. Why was I beaten up? Who else was with me? Was he okay? I look at Dad, but he’s staring above me. Angry.
“Adam, during the fight you were hit in the head with a piece of brick, and you suffered a minor skull fracture. Your left arm is also broken, and you have a few other bumps and bruises.”
I try to look at my arm, which is immobile against my chest. I don’t understand any of this. Skull fracture. The words echo in my mind, horrifying. Is this why everything hurts, and I can’t remember?
“Memory loss isn’t uncommon with injuries such as yours. It’s possible that it’s only temporary, but we’ll know more when we’re able to talk about it.”
I blink once. I have so many questions bubbling to the surface. Something keeps tapping at the corner of my mind, reminding me it’s there, but I can’t see it. Don’t know what it is, or what it means. I swallow against fire and try to make a word. One word.
“Who?” I rasp out.
“Who did this to you?” Dr. Cornwell asks.
Blink twice.
“He should rest,” Dad says.
I blink twice again. I don’t want to sleep, I want to know who. Who what, I’m not sure. And then it hits me. Who was the other boy? Who was with me when I was beaten up and got my skull cracked? “Who?”
Dad pulls the doctor to the side, and I can’t hear them. Can’t get their attention, and then I drift back into darkness.
When I wake up again, my throat feels better. My room’s empty. I feel around with my right hand for the call button. The curtain moves, and Lucinda bustles inside. She sees me. Grins.
“Hello there,mijo,” she says. “How about some ice?”
Ice sounds good. I nod, which doesn’t hurt my head as much as I expect. The ice helps. I cough a little before finding my voice. “Dad’s here?”
“I think your father is speaking with his lawyer, but he’ll be back soon.”
Lawyer? Oh wait. The fight. Is this a criminal case now? Do they know who hurt me and the other guy? “The other one,” I say. “Who is he?”
She cocks her head, thinking. “The other… oh, the other boy who came in with you?”
