Chapter Ten

Saturday afternoon, the day after the explosion, Ralph brought a book to the hospital and sat reading while waiting for the long resting Bill to come around. He was pleased to see various cards and flowers brightening up Bill's room, sent by colleagues and the friends Ralph had notified. In the early afternoon, Bill groggily awoke and Ralph watched as he slowly regained his alertness and examined his own body, rediscovering his treated injuries. Ralph put his book down, stood up and the first thing that came out of his mouth was his apology.

"It's nothing, Ralph. Don't worry," Bill said. He lifted his left hand, still hooked up to an IV needle, and lightly rubbed the back of his head. "Sure wish they hadn't had to shave me bald back there."

Predictable, Ralph thought, more concerned about his hairline than his injuries. "But, Bill, I should have reacted sooner—".

"Nah, kid, you did fine. You stopped that car, didn't you? It would have made road pizza outta me. You saved my life. Gotta thank you for that."

The mention of his telekinesis powers enlivened Ralph. "You should have seen me, Bill," Ralph mimicked the motion of putting his hand out in a "stop" position. "I just lifted my hand and yelled 'Stop!' I didn't even think about it. And the car stopped dead. Then I told it to not move again, and it didn't. It was awesome!"

Bill picked up on Ralph's energy. "Maybe that's what we need to focus on. Getting your suit powers to be more reflexive and less, uh…"

"Cognitive? Cerebral?"

"Egghead oriented. By the way, did you ever release the car from, uh, you know, your mental command? Or did they have to tow it away?"

Ralph's mouth opened in surprise. He softly mouthed "Uh-oh", as a nurse came into the room, finishing off with a mumbled "Damn!"

"Did you at least remember to take your clothes out of Culdero's condo, so the police wouldn't find them?" Bill whispered.

"Yeah. Gathering them up and putting them on the roof was what kept me from getting to you sooner," Ralph whispered back.

"How's that hip doing?" the nurse asked Bill, lifting up his gown to pull off the ice bag and cloth which lay between the bag and Bill's underwear. Ralph moved closer to see what his hip looked like. "Ooh, Bill," he said, grimacing. "That has got to hurt."

"Ya think, Dr. Obvious?" Bill answered.

Bill's hip was the darkest purplish blue Ralph had ever seen as a skin color. The contusion was large, spreading up into his lower abdomen, and down his leg a little, as well as around his back. Ralph was also able to see the rolls of gauze wrapped around his upper left thigh, where the long laceration had been stitched.

"Looks like the swelling is started to go down…a little…maybe," the nurse said, trying to be encouraging. "You're lucky there's no fracture."

"Yeah, that's what the ER doc said. When can I get out of this needle bazaar?"

At that description of the hospital the nurse looked at Ralph; he closed his eyes and shook his head back and forth, informing her not to bother commenting.

The nurse turned back to Bill. "When you can walk out."

"Oh, that's easy enough." Bill pushed up off his double pillows with his left hand. As soon as he began elevating his body, though, his eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets, he began panting, sweat broke out on his forehead, and he grit his teeth together so tightly Ralph feared he'd crack them to pieces. "Whoa.." Bill said, not being able to hold back a moan.

"Goodness gracious, lie back down," the nurse said, putting her hands on his chest and gently pushing. "Do you want the hip to swell up more?"

Bill cast a look of anger at her, but the pain was too great, and he was forced to comply.

"Look," the nurse said, pointing her finger at him. "You're not the first law officer I've cared for. You're a bundle of injuries that need time to heal. You can either make this easy or difficult. If you rest, take the anti-inflammatories, and use the ice, you can possibly get out of here in a week. If you keep trying to be some macho man, you'll be in here for three. Now, which is it?"

She was just the kind of woman Bill needed. Just the kind he listened to. Ralph thought it was too bad she looked nearly sixty, and wore a wedding ring.

Bill smiled up at her, reading her name tag. Nina. "No Nonsense Nina, is it? Well, without my gun, I'm in no position to defend myself. Just do one thing. Next time you bring an ice bag, can you put some extra cubes in a glass and fill it with scotch?"

Those quick mood turn-arounds! From ultimate grouch to immaculate charmer. There were so many different levels to Bill Maxwell, Ralph, after three years, knew he still didn't quite wholly comprehend the man. Ralph liked that. It kept things interesting.

"Don't go turning all sweet on me, thinking I'm susceptible to tall, dark, handsome heroes," the nurse mused playfully. "I'm a married woman. And, I've got other patients just as important as you." She gave him two pills and a glass of water. "Now, take your anti-inflammatory and pain medicines. No complaints."

"Ralph, tell her I never complain."

"He always complains," Ralph clarified.

"Traitor."

"Pills," she commanded, hands on hips.

"Yes, ma'am!" Bill said, swallowing both pills down.

The nurse patted his pillow perfunctorily, said "Be good," then exited. Bill waved for Ralph to get closer to him.

"Look, kid, I guess I'm in here for a couple of days, anyway—"

"—Or a week—"

"—So you're going to have to be the eager beaver building up the dam."

Bill spoke to Ralph about his ideas, and they sounded reasonable and sensible. Ralph agreed to get going on them.

"Listen, keep your suit on all the time under your clothes. All the time. I don't trust this Culdero creep. He's good. Stay protected."

"Okay, I will. What about you here in the hospital?"

"I'll be fine. He's a master artist. Seems like when he has a specific individual as a target, he doesn't like to injure others. He can't set off a bomb here without that risk."

Somehow, looking at Bill, lying weakly in bed with over forty stitches in him, his whole right side nearly incapacitated, Bill's assurances brought Ralph little comfort. He had taken Bill's gun back to his apartment, per request by the hospital administration, so he truly was defenseless. Ralph decided to get Bill's fishing hat from his apartment closet to be able to vibe in on his friend now and then, just to be safe.

The whole case was scary and depressing. Ralph thought he'd end things on a positive note.

"Pam sends her regards. She had to finish up some legal briefs this morning, but she says she'll stop in later today."

"Great. Always good to see the beautiful Counselor."

"You know, she called you her friend last night." He left off the "Of sorts", deeming it unnecessary.

Bill was so shocked hearing that his body jumped like he had stuck his finger in an electrical outlet. "What? Did she crash her head crash through a window, too?"

"Nope. Guess she just realized you were less annoying than you seem."

"Oh, is that Funk and Wagnall's definition of a 'friend'? 'A less annoying person than they seem'?"

Ralph grinned. "Maybe not. But, anyway, she meant it."

Bill grew silent for a moment, his changeable face struggling to maintain its equanimity in the midst of being deeply touched by the Counselor's heartfelt admission. Ralph realized his friend's struggle and knew that giving him a moment or two on his own would be the most compassionate thing to do.

"Listen, partner, I gotta go. Pam and I will be back, later, filling you in."

Bill nodded several times, his voice squeaking off a parting, "Thanks, Ralph."

Ralph walked out of Bill's room immensely more satisfied with himself than he had walked into it.