He heard the sirens faintly, then all went black and dead. The next thing Riff knew, he was waking up in a hospital bed. Slowly he looked around. Everything in the room was bland, bland and dark.
Suddenly the door opened and a girl came in. Riff couldn't make her out until the door closed behind her. He could see her soft golden hair that was curled just under her ear. Her pearl earrings caught the glint of the sun between the blinds. She walked across the room and opened up the window.
Morning light flooded the room, giving Riff a clear view of the nurse's face. She was pale, paler than Graziella or Velma. She had long eyelashes that hovered above her most startling feature. Her eyes were a brilliant green. For a few seconds Riff couldn't tear his gaze from her eyes.
"Oh, it's good to see you up." She said, noticing Riff's open eyes. The young man tried to sit up but an intense pain hit his gut. The young nurse's eyes flashed with alarm. "Please, lie back." She demanded, pushing gently on his shoulders.
"Where am I?" Riff asked, doing as he was told.
"You're in a hospital. You've been out cold for two days due to a bad concussion and blood loss."
Riff shook his head. So that's what happened.
"Oh, dear! I almost forgot!" The nurse exclaimed. "The doctor told me to ask for your name."
"Ri- oh, I guess you want my real name." He corrected himself. Green Eyes sat on his bedside, smiling.
"Yes, that would be the one."
"James Murdoh." He muttered. It was embarrassing enough to say his name out loud, much less to a dame. But this kid didn't seem to care. "Uh, how 'bout you?"
"What? Oh, yes. My name is Irene Brown." She answered, writing down something on a clip board. When she finished, she looked back at Riff.
"So, James, why were you in a rumble?"
"Riff."
"What?"
"That's what I'm called." He explained.
"Oh, I see."
As to answer your question, a new gang was movin' in on our turf." He said. "A gang of spics."
"Please don't use racist terms." Irene said quietly. "My brother-in-law was Puerto Rican." Riff was caught by surprise.
"I'm awful sorry." He muttered. Again he had embarrassed himself. Then he saw his chance to redeem himself. "Were there any others hurt? Anyone?"
"Yes. A young Puerto Rican boy. His room is down the hall and flooded with visitors. Apparently his sister, his fiancée, and his parents are all still here. He's in critical condition so they should leave soon."
"What's his name?" Riff asked, his throat dry.
"Bernardo-something. I wouldn't know, I'm not his nurse." Irene saw Riff's stricken expression. "Well anyway, you should be getting some rest." She said and gently changed his pillow and sheets.
"Aren't you a little young to be a nurse?" Riff questioned, trying to get Bernardo out of his head.
"Well, my father is a doctor here and he pulled a few strings." Irene laughed. "But I work hard to stay here." With that she held out her hand for Riff to shake, then left.