Chapter7
Half an hour later Campbell and Garrison, freshly showered and dressed in clean uniforms, ascended the stairs to the Gorillas' quarters. They found Chief still lounging on his cot in his underwear, the ice bag on his foot.
"Aren't you coming, Chief?" Garrison asked.
"Says he's too tired," Casino said. "Too tired for free drinks...Chief you really are a party pooper!"
"I don't drink much an' you know it!" Chief shot back.
"Too bad you're not coming," Campbell put in. "I was looking forward to beating you at darts."
That got a reaction. Chief scowled darkly. "You were, were you? What made you think I was gonna lose?"
"Well, since you're so tired from your strenuous day..."
Chief sat up and reached for his shirt and pants, the barest hint of a smile beginning to show on his lips. As he swung his legs over the side of the bed, they all knew the real reason he hadn't wanted to go. There was no hiding the pain as his injured foot began to throb from the change of position.
"Use the crutches if it's that painful," Campbell suggested. He quickly crossed the floor and crouched down in front of him. "Let's have a look at it. You've been on it a fair bit today."
He quickly unwrapped the elastic bandage, and Garrison pursed his lips in a silent whistle. He'd last seen the ankle shortly after the original injury, before all the bruising had had a chance to show. He was shocked at just how bad it still looked. Although the worst bruising was around the ankle itself, large purple-black marks on ankle and foot, the skin was mottled almost up to Chief's knee. No wonder he was still in pain.
Colin caught Garrison's gaze, and became aware of the others staring too. "You can wait outside if you want," he suggested, as he began to rewrap the ankle.
"How come the bruising's so extensive?" Garrison asked, when the others had left.
"He tore some muscles in his calf," Colin said. "Fortunately, the tears are minor, and should heal without problems, given sufficient time." He finished wrapping the leg, and handed Chief his crutches. "Okay, gimpy, let's go!"
"How much time, Major?" Garrison asked.
"At least another four weeks, I'm guessing. Try to rush it, and he might reinjure himself."
Chief pulled a wry face at that, and followed them out of the room.
Half an hour later they were all seated at their favorite table in the Doves, pints of beer in front of them. The pub had just opened, and aside from a few of the regulars, they had it to themselves. Garrison sat and nursed his beer, listening while Dr. Campbell bantered back and forth with the cons. He was amazed at the easy rapport he'd established with them in so short a time. He's a natural leader, Garrison thought, and I bet he could teach Actor a thing or two about the confidence game...
"Drink up, lad," he heard Colin urge Chief. "The dart board is waiting for us."
Chief had barely touched his beer. He smiled thinly at Colin. "You hopin' to get me tipsy so's you can have an easy win, Doc? Well, it ain't gonna work!"
Campbell grinned and snapped his fingers."Dash it! There goes my strategy, down the tubes! Not much of a drinker, are you, Chief?"
"You don't wanna see me drunk, believe me..."
"Get really rowdy, do you?" Colin asked. "Now this I'd like to see..."
There was a sudden chill in the air, but Colin kept on, hoping to find out more. "What are you like when you're drunk, Chief?"
Chief's eyes were suddenly downcast. "I ain't saying. Just hope you don't find out." he muttered.
Campbell glanced around the table curiously. None of them wanted to meet his eyes, except Garrison, who looked up briefly, then quickly glanced away again as he focused on lighting a cigarette.
"Lieutenant...have you ever seen him drunk?" he asked
"Once or twice," Garrison hedged.
"Yes," Actor volunteered, face all deadpan innocence, "you have to really watch him when he gets into the French wine..."
Chief's expression was more embarrassment than anger. "Lay off it Actor, that's all water over the dam now..."
"What happened?" Colin prompted, his gaze traveling around the table, and again falling on Garrison.
Garrison looked at the others. "You sure you want him to know about this?"
"Aw, why not?" Goniff prompted, looking at Chief.
Chief said nothing, merely stared uncomfortably off into space.
Sensing their approval, Garrison took the plunge."The story you got this morning about our first mission was the censored version, Major. The night Wheeler challenged my leadership, Chief had been into a bottle of French wine, and he..well...he decided to loan Wheeler his knife."
Chief's face darkened in embarrassment at the memory.
"What happened then?" Colin prompted.
"The Warden disarmed Wheeler," Actor volunteered, "and threatened to rip his throat out. He then gave us all a piece of his mind...called us "two-bit garbage can hoods!"
"Ouch!" Campbell chuckled.
"Mind you," Garrison continued, "I've since decided that they're the most talented bunch of hoods I ever could have picked to have on my side!"
There was a surprised silence at the table. "You really mean that, Warden?" Goniff asked at last, face almost comical in its earnestness.
"Well, yes, I do," Garrison said, grinning. "At least when you're not getting in to trouble, beating each other up, sneaking out of the Mansion for a drink at the pub..."
The tension dissolved in laughter.
"Warden, I figure by now we should at least have progressed to bein' "wastebasket hoods!" Casino suggested facetiously.
"You're in Blighty now," Goniff countered, "so it should be 'dustbin' hoods. An' I think we're worth a lot more than two bits now... at least a couplea quid!"
Garrison took the teasing in good humor, giving it back in kind, while Colin listened with interest. He knew now why there had been a distance between Garrison and his men this afternoon, also knew that he was probably seeing the healing of some of that distance. At last he turned and nodded to Chief.
"Ready when you are, Chief."
Chief took another token sip of his beer, and slowly eased himself to his feet. "Let's go, Major!" he said. "I got a couple a quid says you won't take a single game offa me today..."