Hello to all my wonderful readers. As always, thank you for your thoughtful reviews. Sorry for taking so long with this chapter. It seems to have taken forever to get it ready to post. I've also started my new summer job; it's very time consuming and there is a lot of driving. I've managed to sunburn my left arm to a wonderful shade of cherry red. A trucker's tan as my friends like to call it. Anyways, here is the latest chapter. I hope you all enjoy it.
The cool light of the morning sun woke Mana from a restless night. Try as he might he couldn't remember any of the horrible dreams that constantly disturbed his sleep; it was probably better that way. Rolling over he saw that Allen had crawled into his bed at some point during the night. He stifled a laugh; the boy was drooling onto his pillow. Mana carefully untangled himself from the blankets and pushed Bear over to his son.
He gave me Bear to hold last night… was he here when I woke up again and again? God I hope I didn't scare him or something. Allen mumbled something incoherent and woke up.
"Sorry Mana… I know I'm supposed to stay in my bed, but you were really scared…" he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "I wanted to be right here if you needed me or something."
Stretching, he fumbled about for his glasses. "No, its fine. I just had a nightmare or two. It's no big deal."
"You cried."
"Yeah, well… it must have been a really bad dream. I don't remember it now though." Rubbing the bridge of his nose he leaned back against the headboard. Allen sat up to look at him.
"Hey Mana… if I tell you something will you promise not to get mad?" he asked as he fiddled nervously with the hem of his night shirt.
"That depends… what did you do?" there was a hint of irritation in his voice. Allen wouldn't ask something like that unless he knew that Mana would be furious. Geez what did he do now… when did he even have time to do something?!
Allen rolled off the bed and ran to his little section of the room. "The floor's really cold!" he called making Mana groan and tell him to put on socks. The boy returned with a small box; it looked huge in the boy's arms. He pushed it into Mana's hands and rejoined him on the bed. With a raised eyebrow Mana pulled the lid off.
"Aw damn it; Allen… I thought you were past doing this kind of thing…" An odd assortment of small items, coins and paper money filled the box to the brim. Allen grabbed it and spilled the contents onto the blanket. Little hands expertly sorted everything into little piles.
"These ones…" he pointed to a pile. Mana picked up a handful of the little objects and stared at them. The longer he looked the more he was convinced. No way…
"When did you get these?"
"These ones…" he pointed at some coins and paper money. "They were in the cushions of the big chair. I picked em up when you were talking to him… and these ones here," he lifted up little devotional items, including gold crosses, rosaries and tiny figurines of saints. "I like the blue one, see it's a little lady! These were on the floor with the books and stuff… I grabbed them when I fell and you and him were yelling… all this other stuff, umm… don't look at it. I didn't get it yesterday."
"You stole from a bishop… God Allen. You told me you weren't going to do it anymore. When did you start this again?"
"Now you're mad at me. You said you wouldn't get mad…"
"I never said I wasn't going to get mad." Mana breathed deeply through his nose a few times to steady himself. The little figurine of the holy virgin weighed heavily in his hand. "When did you start doing this again?"
Allen flushed with embarrassment, "I um… I never stopped…" He fidgeted, "I didn't lie about it though… I never said I wasn't and you never asked me… the other boxes are under my bed." Mana thumped his head against the headboard repeatedly. "Sorry Mana. None of them were nice people… even the priest guy; there was something weird about him, not bad but weird."
"Put this stuff away, get dressed, go downstairs. It's not like you can return this stuff… is it even worth asking you not to do it again?" he asked rolling his eyes.
"I'll be good! For real this time!"
"Uh huh… right. Get moving." He really didn't want to go back to that seedy pawn shop. I can't let him keep this stuff… Allen quickly scampered around the room, getting ready to go downstairs and Mana let his eyes slide shut. At least the problems like these that he faced were solid, real; not the strange cryptic dangers that yesterday's meeting implied. He could handle the real stuff.
By the next week Mana had put the Bishop and the events of that day completely out of his mind. Normalcy had returned to his daily life; going to work, playing with Allen, kissing Marie and helping Rivka. It had been just another weird thing that he didn't quite understand and therefore ignored. He would wish he hadn't.
Allen ran ahead as they walked down the street. Rivka was sending them on yet another errand. This one was taking them to the grocer; she needed fresh vegetables for a stew she was making. The delicious smell had been driving Mana crazy; so he welcomed the chance to leave. He pulled his scarf tighter against the chilled air and wondered how long the lines would be when he got there. It was too cold to stay out for long; but the weather would only make the hot, thick stew even better. As far as Mana was concerned, there was nothing more satisfying than a hot meal on a cold day. Watching Allen kicking an empty can down the sidewalk made him smile. The boy didn't wander too far; the street was crowded. Everyone, Mana included, jumped when an auto backfired loudly.
Mana had heard once, that you never see the one that gets you. That was true. Later he would wonder how he could have possibly not seen it coming; perhaps he just wasn't paying enough attention to his surroundings. But, at the moment of the collision, he was terrifyingly aware as his entire world suddenly crumbled into an impossible spiral of agony.
If not for Allen, it would have been much worse. The boy had seen the spooked horses rear and charge, throwing the driver from the cart they pulled. He grabbed Mana's coat and yanked him backwards.
Despite Allen's efforts, Mana found himself on his back on the pavement, biting back screams from the pain in his lower body. It was unbearable. "Ah God!" The horses ran on, leaving the remains of their cart shattered and spread out across the street. A crowd rapidly gathered. Mana could dimly hear people calling to locate a doctor over the rush of blood in his ears.
He tried to push himself up, to see what happened, why he hurt so badly. Allen's face, pale as though all color had been washed away, filled his field of vision. "Don't get up…" his voice was calm despite his terrified look. Mana could only groan and sob in response. He tried to move again, but Allen pushed him back down; he moved to cradle Mana's head in his lap. He clutched at Mana's hand and squeezed hard. "Don't move ok. They're getting a doctor… you're gonna be ok…"
It was hard to understand the boy through the waves of white hot agony that tore through and buried his other senses, threatening to pull him under. "Mm' leg!" he cried, barely able to form the words. "gaah… Allen! What's wrong with it?!"
Allen's eyes darted to his lower body and back to his face. "It'll be ok… just don't move… please, Mana you don't wanna see it." Mana grabbed at the boy's shoulder; he needed something to concentrate on, anything that could distract him from what was happening. The gound was so cold and muddied water was seeping into his clothes; it smelled of copper and he prayed it was just water and nothing else.
"What's… ahh Allen! Tell me how bad… how bad is it?" he near screamed.
Allen looked down again and gave him a weak smile in an attempt to be calm. "It's um… it's bleeding a lot, don't move ok. I can see bones. They're sticking out." The boy swallowed hard, the sight was making him ill. "It's broke and there's a bone sticking out of your leg."
If Mana had the strength to move and look he would have seen his tibia protruding obscenely like a glistening wet white column from his mangled lower leg. Just hearing it was enough though, the world swam and Mana slid gratefully into unconsciousness.
He woke back in his own bed. Dull waves of pain coursed upwards from his leg. Shit… oh shit…what…shit! Allen was lying in his arms, having pulled them around himself. "Allen?" he croaked. His eyes wouldn't focus right; he wondered if it was because his head was stuffed with cotton.
Allen was up in an instant, "Mana, you hurt much? They gave you a shot… said you wouldn't feel it." He looked at Mana's lower body with concern. "The doctor put your bones back in." Mana could only squint at the boy as his morphine addled brain tried to make sense of what he was hearing. "I'm supposed to make sure you don't move."
"What happened?" he slurred and tried to sit up higher. A wave of nausea forced him back and his leg throbbed at the slightest motion. He shut his eyes tight against it.
"You got hit." The boy's voice broke, "I'm too small… I really tried Mana, I did. I'm slow…" Allen's light weight rested up against his chest; his voice muffled against his shirt. Mana wondered blearily when he had gotten changed into his bed clothes.
"I wasn't fast enough… and you got hit, but don't worry, ok Father. I'm not gonna mess up again; I'm gonna protect you."
"What?" confusion washed over him; he still wasn't sure what was happening. Allen didn't do anything; he knew that much for sure. He couldn't understand what he was trying to say. At the sound of footsteps he tried to turn his head to look; like trying to move lead. His vision blurred briefly but cleared to reveal Rivka and a man in a white coat.
"Afternoon there, Mr. Walker. I'm Dr. Cohen; Rivka here has been one of my patients for years, she sent for me to care for you. How are you holding up?" That name was familiar; he had never really thought about Rivka having a physician. The doctor didn't bother waiting for an answer. He didn't expect one; instead he set about giving Mana a brief exam. "Allen, good boy… it's going to be your job to make sure your papa doesn't move about too much, but for now I want you to do downstairs and bring us up some ice." With a soft thud, Allen hopped off the bed and tore out of the room laughing and repeating 'papa' over and over in a sing-song voice. The doctor took a seat on the bed.
He was an older gentleman; Mana would guess he was about the same age as Rivka. His smile was kind, but tired. "Do you know what happened?" he asked Mana; he shook his head no. The man hummed and checked Mana's eyes for signs of a concussion or any other type of head injury. "You were struck by a runaway cart. The horses were frightened when an auto backfired and took off wildly. Only the cart hit you… and luckily, it broke as it hit the curb. Your leg suffered a compound fracture. It could have been much, much worse." He sighed and adjusted his small round spectacles. "I was able to save the limb. The bone didn't do too much damage to the surrounding vessels and tissues… So, I've set the bone and stitched the muscle back together. I'm fairly certain that it will heal up properly. There could be some damage to the knee, but we won't really know till later."
Pulling the blankets back, Dr. Cohen checked the dressing on the injured limb. "After I'm certain the stitches have escaped infection and the flesh has healed up, we'll set it up in a plaster cast. That will keep you from moving the leg until the bones knit." He smiled weakly. "I hope you're comfortable there, Mr. Walker. You're going to be in this bed for quite some time."
He produced a small bottle and syringe from one of his pockets. "This will help with the pain. I've given Rivka instruction on how much and when to give it to you. It's very strong; I believe that you won't really remember the next week or so… I'll be back to check up on you tomorrow. Till then, rest up and no unnecessary movement." Rivka smiled at him gently before taking the doctor's arm and walking him downstairs. Mana could hear them talking softly as they left.
Allen bumped into them on the stairs, producing a large crash that echoed into his room. Chuckling was painful, but Mana couldn't help but laugh. When the boy finally returned, he was holding Mana's ice pack on his head. "I ran into the doctor…" he said sheepishly. "Here's some ice." He offered the pack, "I'm gonna set it on your leg ok…"
Mana hissed at the cold. "Ah, sorry." Allen mumbled and carefully readjusted the ice to cover the black stitches. He crawled back up to curl against Mana's side. "Lemmie know if you need anything ok. I gotta take care of you…'cause it's my fault…" he kept talking but Mana found his eyelids to be too heavy and he drifted off before he could hear Allen's words. I'll ask him what the hell he's talking about later…
As Dr. Cohen had told him, Mana wouldn't remember much of the first weeks of being bedridden. Rivka followed the man's instructions to the letter and kept him drugged to the point of senselessness. She sent a letter to the patent office explaining the situation. Marie delivered the boss's reply in person. Mana wasn't going to have to worry about losing his job; his boss was a kindly old gentleman and wished him a speedy recovery. She didn't come upstairs to tell him personally; though Marie did promise to visit again when she had more time. Mana hoped that she really was busy and not trying to avoid seeing him. The very thought put him in a foul mood for the rest of the day.
The stitches did become infected and left him weak and sick. Like a mother with a young child, Rivka helped him bathe and assisted with other more embarrassing human needs. Even under the warm haze of morphine he was mortified.
Allen helped him eat, patiently cutting the food into bite size pieces. Without complaint he skewered them on the fork and put it into Mana's hand. He had been unhappy when Allen fed him; so the boy helped as little as possible, giving him the chance to do it himself.
The café had been closed; Mana was worried about the money his dear landlady was losing until he saw Allen dragging one of his 'treasure' boxes from under his little bed. Rivka thrashed him soundly with her wooden spoon for stealing, but hugged him and took it anyways. The boy spent the rest of the day pouting and trying to find a comfortable way to sit on his sore backside.
Mostly, Mana slept and as he slept he dreamed.
Again he was running terrified through a world of sharp black and blinding white. God please… please let me wake up… His shoes and pant legs were soaked through from the slurry of viscera and gore that coated the world like a lukewarm shallow sea. It made running impossible, but fear forced him onwards. There were dark masses of ruined buildings and other things, things that looked like bodies; mangled forms reaching out for help that came to late. Mana slowed to a walk but didn't dare to approach them. This isn't real. I know it's a dream… it's a dream and I can take control of it. I know I can… God I'm bleeding; please just let me wake up.
He pressed his hand hard against his forehead and tried not to think about the markings that were etched into his flesh. He needed to go somewhere. Everything would be alright if he could just get to the ruined buildings. The shallow blood sea was too open and made him feel exposed and vulnerable, he needed to find shelter and a place to climb free of the grotesque water. Moving carefully he slogged his way towards the looming shapes in the distance; the path was blocked by the dead. Don't look at this stuff. Just keep walking… they aren't real...
If he looked at the bodies he knew he would recognize them. He had already seen people he knew and cared about. There had been people from work; the girls from the typing pool, his boss, and his coworkers, even Marie. Mana had run to that body; her face was peaceful, but her chest was a gaping hole. "This is a dream!" he screamed; her lifeless eyes rolled open to stare at him. Stumbling backwards he landed hard in the liquid; it covered him and he could only scream. He recognized Smith off to his left; the man's head was nearly severed with a large pane of broken glass.
Invisible fingers held him to the spot; a ghostly hand lovingly wiped the blood from his eyes and traced the symbols carved into his forehead. Mana shuddered hard and begged the presence to stop. "Please don't… don't touch me. Stop…" he looked around the nightmare world frantically. "You have to stop this!"
Again he heard a voice in his mind, one that spoke without talking and without words directly into his soul. "You already made your choice; events have already been set into motion. You must keep walking forward; everything has been decided..." Mana screamed at its speech, demanding to know what was happening, what did it mean and why couldn't he just wake up. He swore at the dream, you're not real… you have no power over me! Still, the hands remained on his face; tenderly soothing his wound…
Mana woke with a shock; a cool hand was still on his face. Trembling he looked around the room for any trace of the violence world that could have followed him into the real world. He was alone save for Allen's little figure beside him "Manah, you were having another bad dream huh?" He retrieved a glass of water from the nightstand and held it up for him to drink. "Wanna tell me what happened?"
"I don't remember…" he lied. Allen made a thoughtful sound. Mana could tell he didn't believe him.
"Guess what?" Mana raised a questioning eyebrow. "Dr. Cohen is gonna put the cast on your leg today, so you can move around more… and Nick and Isabella will be here by supper! They got my letter!"
"What?" Mana leaned forward and Allen took the cue to help prop him upright with a pillow. "Thanks… they're coming here? Really? That's great…"
"Yep!" Allen spoke with growing enthusiasm. "I wrote to them all by myself. Isabella is still sad, so they didn't go back to the circus yet. Nick said it would be good for her to get out of bed and do something."
She's still devastated… poor woman, I can't imagine what that must be like. His thoughts were interrupted by Rivka's entrance into his bedroom. "The doctor is here… he'll be moving your leg to wrap the cast. It's going to hurt…" She spoke to him gently and filled the syringe with sweet narcotic.
"I don't like this…" he grumbled even as he held out his arm to receive the shot. "It makes me feel too weird." He couldn't hold back a sigh as the drug bathed his senses in a pleasurable warmth. Any lingering memories of his nightmare melted away. He giggled, instantly in a good mood, and threw an arm over Allen's little shoulder. "Go get one of your books. Let's read. I'd like to hear you read a bit…" With a laugh he gave Allen a playful thump and nudged him off the bed. The boy nearly slammed into Dr. Cohen as he ran into the little living room.
"I can see you're in high spirits today…" The doctor laughed as he came into the room and started setting up his supplies. The actual process of assembling the cast was fairly simple; the occasional jostle of his leg hurt sharply and yet Mana drifted off, still listening as Allen read him an inane story about a cat.
The morphine had sent him into a heavy sleep that left him mercifully free of nightmares. He felt quite rested when Allen woke him later that evening. Mana looked out the window at the darkened city. Sleeping so much had really disturbed his sense of time. "Nick's here!" Allen said happily. "He's unloading their stuff and then he's gonna bring Isabella up…"
As if on cue, there was a knock on the door of their little apartment. Allen charged to answer it. With a grunt Mana pushed himself up to a seated position. The good doctor gave him a long list of just what he could and couldn't do now that his leg was immobilized with the cast. He was really looking forward to moving about, even if it was just a little bit. It was only going to be a little more than he could do already.
Mana tried not to think about the other things the doctor said. Though the man had saved the limb from amputation and said it would heal; he was uncertain as to how well it would be able to function. The best case scenario would mean having to use a cane to assist in walking; the worst would mean that there would be no need for a cane, for there would be no walking at all.
He forced the thoughts to the back of his mind, preferring to think positively. Mana did not want to even entertain the thought that he might spend the rest of his life as a cripple.