Circus Boy Returns Home

Part 18

"TIM!"

Dick scrambled inside. He was quick to check Tim's pulse. He couldn't ask the one question he wanted to because he was focusing on Tim, and Tim was unable to answer him. That question was, who was responsible for harming his little brother. Dick would have to get back to that question later. He picked Tim up and rushed out of the car to the medical tent.

"Doctor!"

The doctor wasn't available at first. Dick knew where the first aid kit was, along with bandages and cotton swabs. He rushed to grab those and started to clean the blood off of Tim.

/Come on Timoti/ Dick spoke in Romani. /Be all right./ Tears streamed down Dick's cheeks.

The doctor came back with another patient, a young girl who had sprained her angle. She wasn't a member of the circus nor a member of the carnival, though Dick had seen her hanging around the tents. His keen eyes had spotted her. He had gone to Haly to let him know, and to question why a young girl would be hanging around. Pop had dismissed it as some young fan, but the girl had been there at their last stop as well. There was something about her that made the hairs on the back of Dick's neck stand up. Now, to have her in the medical tent seemed rather odd.

"What happened?" the doctor came over and looked at Tim. "Those look like animal scratches. Did he get caught in the lion's cage?"

"No," Dick replied. "Tim got locked inside the supply car with a bunch of owls. How they got in I don't know."

"I'll take care of him. You've got a performance."

"Are you sure?" Dick didn't want to leave Tim.

"Go get changed. You don't want to scare people looking like that," Doctor Watson encouraged. "I'll take care of your brother."

Dick went back to the wagon and removed his bloody performance costume, while Doctor Watson took care of Tim's wounds. The doctor cleaned each one and discovered that they weren't as bad as he feared, just numerous, some were deep enough where they required suturing. The loss of blood could result in Tim becoming weak and he was concerned that Tim might need a transfusion. Doctor Watson only had a small blood supply for emergencies. He took enough blood to be able to check Tim's blood type then to give him one transfusion along with other fluids. He also gave him a tetanus shot to avoid infection.

"What about me, Doctor?" the girl whined. "My ankle's really hurting."

Doctor Watson went over and grabbed an ice pack. "Lie back and put this on your ankle. I'll wrap it after I'm done suturing up the worst of these wounds." The doctor went back to taking care of Dick's brother. 'The boy should really go to a hospital, but I doubt if Dick would even let me suggest that. He seems very protective of the teen.'

Once he was done suturing the worst of the wounds, cleaning and bandaging the rest, the doctor went over and wrapped the girl's ankle.

"You need to stay off that ankle for a few days. Are your parents around?"

"My Daddy's not far," the girl answered. "I can give him a call."

"Have him take you home. You need to take care of that ankle."

"I will," the girl said in a sweet voice.

'I need to hire a nurse,' the doctor thought to himself. Doctor Watson didn't want to leave his patients, but he had to be in the big top, and be on hand in case there were other injuries that might occur in the course of the performance. He grabbed his medical bag and got a couple roustabouts to bring the remaining gurney that was not occupied, and headed to the big top.

While the doctor was gone, the young girl got off the gurney and hobbled over to where Tim was lying. He had just come to, his eyes filled with fright, still in that stage of fear from being attacked. His heart nearly jumped out of his throat when the voice of a young girl whispered in his ear.

"You're not wanted," the girl said through a wicked grin. "You should not exist. The Gray Son will be ours. Remember this well. Beware the court of owls, that watches all the time, Ruling Gotham from a shadowed perch, behind granite and lime. They watch you at your hearth. They watch you in your bed. Speak not a whispered word of them, or they'll send the Talon for your head."

'No. They can't be. Not here.'

The girl laughed, and left the medical tent, hobbling away from the circus, her job done.

Continues with Part 19