Chapter 16

Because Charlie was finally out of the ICU, Larry and Megan came to visit that night.

Still in the chair where he had eaten his dinner — or "slid his mush", as he had begun to refer to his meals — Charlie broke into a broad smile at the sight of his old friend.

"Larry!" He looked at the sling and frowned. "Are you all right?"

Larry and Megan came close to the chair and, after Megan had hugged Charlie, sat on the edge of the bed. "Charles, you're the one in the hospital. I'll be fine. I've already started physical therapy."

"Me, too," answered Charlie unhappily. "I don't like it." He changed the subject. "Have you gone back…to work? I tried to phone you at home today, but I must have dialed wrong. I got the disconnected recording. Then I feel asleep before I could try your cell."

Larry looked at Megan, then back at Charlie. "Actually, Charles…Megan and I have decided to continue our cohabitation. I've had the phone disconnected in my apartment. Don and David have generously agreed to help me box and move some things this weekend."

Charlie's smile grew wider. "Guys! That's great! I'm so happy for you. You're not going to run off to Vegas and get married, are you?"

Larry chuckled. "That, Charles, has already been done by enough people in this room." He reached into his sling and withdrew a small slip of paper, which he put on the bedside table. "As for my cell…I had to get a new one. This is the new number." He looked solemnly at Charlie. "Charles…my cell was found smashed under your body. Is that why you came to my classroom? To return my cell phone?"

Memory crashed down on Charlie like a fist, and he actually shrank back a little. "You left it in my office. I knew you were waiting to hear from Megan…I remember deciding to use the faculty entrance to the classroom. I don't remember anything after opening the door."

Megan didn't like the sudden paleness of Charlie's face, and tried to distract him. "I'm surprised to find you alone," she said. "Where is your Vegas bride, anyway?"

Charlie sagged in the chair a little, suddenly very tired. "I'm sure they'll be here soon. Dad and Archie have been gone since this morning. Don got here a couple of hours ago — he's in the cafeteria eating dinner. I asked him not to eat in front of me, anymore. Even if I'm not hungry, I look at real food and get jealous."

Larry put his good hand to his mouth and began to chew his fingernails in a familiar gesture. Megan looked sideways at him and he quickly dropped his hand. "I'm so pleased to see you looking so well, Charles. I have missed you."

"I think he could look better," stated Megan plainly. "You look tired. First pale, now flushed."

Charlie rolled his eyes. "Give me a break, Megan. I shaved today and dressed up my arm in this pleasant fluorescent green cast, just for you. Didn't have time to lower my temperature any."

She smiled a little, but still looked serious. "Don told me. That infection is really hanging on."

Charlie shifted uncomfortably. "I don't want to talk about that. You never answered me, Larry. Have you gone back to work?"

His friend nodded. "Just today. It was…more difficult than I anticipated, teaching my Physics 203 course again. In that Lecture Hall."

Charlie started to look away and then noticed for the first time that Larry was holding a newspaper. He nodded at it. "What is that?"

Larry looked at it as if to remind himself, then reached over and placed it carefully on the rolling bedside table on top of the tiny slip of paper with his new cell phone number. "It's the Times account of the shooting. All the … people are listed by name … I didn't know how much information you had received. I thought perhaps … I'll just leave it here. You don't need to read it, if you'd rather not."

Charlie was looking at the newspaper as if it had claws and teeth and was about to sink all of them into his flesh. He paled again. "Th … thanks. Maybe later."

He turned his attention back to his visitors. They continued to chat for several more minutes before the door opened again and they were joined by Archie, Alan — and David, whom they had found in the parking lot. Another few minutes, and Don returned from his dinner. The six friends let relief and hope fuel their conversation, barely noticing that Charlie's contributions were rare. Then Alan, sitting next to Archie, who was closest to Charlie, heard a low, "Nectarine?", and followed her gaze. Charlie didn't look all that great.

Archie leaned over and ran a hand through his curls. "I think maybe you should lie down for awhile."

Charlie protested. "She wants me to stay up."

Archie stiffened. "Don't worry about the nurse. I'll take care of Brunhilda."

Larry's hand approached his mouth again. "Oh, dear. Does Mrs. Singer work here?"

Don snorted, and Alan glared at him, then tried to reassure Larry. "No, no, Mrs. Singer is Hildegard…I'm not sure why Archie is referring to Charlie's nurse as Brunhilda. I haven't even met the night nurse on this floor."

"Me neither," admitted Archie, "but whoever it is will not be allowed to intimidate my husband."

Charlie interrupted. "What is everyone talking about?"

Alan sighed. "When Larry was released from the hospital, before Don and Archie and Megan came back, I took him to stay at the house. I didn't feel that he should be alone."

Charlie nodded.

Alan continued. "But I needed to come back to the hospital to be with you, and I still didn't want Larry to be alone…"

Charlie finished his thought. "You had Mrs. Singer come over." He looked sympathetically at his friend. "How many albums of Ingrid?"

Larry smiled. "I was spared all but the first six months of this year, so there were only seven, I believe. Ingrid's youngest, Hans — quite a strapping young lad."

"She made him eat jellied eel," Don put in.

At that, Charlie turned a little green, and Don quickly stood. "Archie's right. Back to bed."

Larry, Megan and David quickly said their good-byes, promising to return soon. Archie walked to the door with them, gave Megan a quick hug.

"Listen," she said as she pulled back, "Don and I know how to help Charlie get back in bed, but could you stop at the nursing station and ask someone to come down soon? With a thermometer? He seems really warm."

"Of course," Megan promised. "Give me a call if you need anything."

When the three had left, Archie and Don helped Charlie transfer back to the bed. He offered no more arguments and was strangely silent, making Alan very nervous. Soon, a nurse bustled into the room. Alan was glad to see that she was very much unlike Mrs. Singer — at least physically.

She smiled at the Eppes. "I'm Kristin. I'll be taking care of Charlie tonight."

Alan and Don nodded, while Archie looked at her worriedly. "Dr. Fitzgerald showed us how to help him back to bed. That's why we didn't wait."

Kristin approached the bed. "That's fine." She laid a thermometer on the bedside table and quickly took Charlie's pulse. She smiled when she looked at him and picked the thermometer back up, stuck it in his ear. "You're looking a little worn out. I think the day caught up with you."

"I wasn't running very fast," Charlie mumbled, and Kristin chuckled as she checked the display on the thermometer. "Okay. I thought I heard that you're a professor of mathematics?"

"I am," answered Charlie.

"You don't seem to have a good grip on numbers, right now. They're going the wrong way." She looked at the three worried faces looking back at her. "He'll be all right…but I'm shutting down visiting for the night. Think we'll skip that hike we had planned for later."

"How high is it?" asked Don.

"Back to 102," she answered. "I know you've all waited all day to see him, and I'm sorry to kick you out — but Charlie needs his rest."

Archie looked ready to cry. She came to the bed and leaned over to kiss Charlie. "It'll be okay, babe. Kristin is right. You've had a long day."

"I'm sorry," Charlie whispered, and Alan shushed him. "Nothing to be sorry about, son. We had a lot of people in here, for awhile. Just too much, all at once." He leaned over to kiss Charlie's hot forehead and winced, careful to readjust his face before his stood back up. "We'll see you in the morning. Get some rest."

Don, on the other side of the bed, winked at Charlie. "I'm not kissing you."

Charlie smiled. "Thank you."

"See you tomorrow?"

Charlie nodded, and the three finally left. Kristin sat down in the chair next to the bed. "Charlie, I want to talk to you."

He looked at her. "What?"

"I want you to think of yourself as a war zone, with a couple of different battles going on. The trouble is, you only have a finite number – like that word? 'Finite'? I think it's a math word. Anyway, you only have a finite number of soldiers. Worse yet, they don't take orders. They just decide for themselves where they are needed the most. Right now, there are two major battle grounds. One is pain. The other is infection. Pain yells louder, gets more attention, so all the soldiers are going to fight that battle, and no one is left to fight the other one." She smiled kindly at him. "I respect your decision to try to cut down on your pain meds…but when you let the pain get out of control, the soldiers in your body are going to respond to it. Controlling your pain level is not a sign of weakness, Charlie. It's simply freeing up some soldiers to fight another battle."

He sighed a little, spoke quietly. "I understand."

Kristin stood again. "Now. How about Brunhilda gets you some Demerol?"

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Deciding to go to bed early since he couldn't visit Charlie, Alan paused on his way to the stairs to look at Archie, who was curled up on the couch trying to convince him she was reading a book.

"Archie…"

She looked up and smiled.

"…that's the second time I've heard you call Charlie 'Nectarine'. What's that all about?"

She blushed. "Well. It's just that…well…Charlie started referring to…to a certain part of my anatomy as 'peaches', because he said that they looked like ripe peaches begging to be picked." Her blush deepened. She cleared her throat. "Anyway. Anyway, I wanted to pick a fruit nickname for him, too, and…and 'banana' just seemed too obvious, and then one day I noticed that for a hairy guy, he really has virtually none on his…in a certain place, and…and so I thought of nectarines, and…"

Alan held up a hand, blurted a loud, "Archie! Please! Never mind. Just pretend this never happened. Try to forget I asked."

He hurried up the stairs, mumbling.

"I hope to God I can."