--- Chapter Six ---

"…hello?"

Veterson looked up groggily from where he lay in the hospital bed. He'd been thoroughly checked over and deemed in good condition, aside from a few bumps, bruises, and cuts. However, the hospital had wanted him to stay a little longer, just so that they could "keep an eye on him." Not that he was missing anything. From what he'd heard, the entire school had gotten out for the day.

Darn. Veterson scowled. That meant another day of practice lost. For even in the hospital, the first thing on his mind was his precious, precious band. And anyway, it wasn't as if he had much else to do but worry over it.

But at this moment, his thoughts were suddenly cast away as two people stepped gingerly into the room, probably anticipating the worst, most terrible, gruesome image that their minds could come up with. After all, the husband, who was an English teacher at the school, was well known to be a movie fanatic, and had probably seen the most horrific, psychologically disturbing films that the Japanese culture could come up with. One came to mind, something about a well, a television, and a girl with long, scraggly hair out to kill people… ah, what was the title? Veterson gave it up — he wasn't much of a movie person.

The other, though, the wife — that one, he knew well. She was a fellow band director, a former student of Neller's, fairly talented in her profession and slightly creepy at times. She was in charge of the junior high band, teaching them to tune and parade march and all sorts of things that they seemed to conveniently forget as soon as they hit high school band camp. Oh, well. She did her best. And one couldn't overlook the fact that the skill level of the band had gone way up since she'd gotten her job with the younger kids.

Veterson sighed. It would be an interesting visit.

They were, after all, the Donsons.

"Is he conscious?" Mrs. Donson questioned quietly, nudging her husband gently in the ribs as he watched the television across from Veterson's bed.

"Hm? Oh, I dunno. Man, look at the reception they get here!"

"That's nice honey, but we're here to see Veterson!"

While the two of them argued, Veterson took the opportunity to clean himself up as best he could. As he looked down, he noticed that he was wearing one of those awful cotton hospital gowns. Blushing, he pulled the thin, scratchy bed sheets up as far as he could. Couldn't his taxes pay for something better than this?

"Veterson! You're awake!" Mrs. Donson exclaimed, dashing over to the side of Veterson's bed to embrace him with a friendly hug. "Neller just called me a little bit ago — we came as soon as we heard the news about the accident. I was so worried! What happened to you?"

"It was no accident, I'm afraid," Veterson replied, choosing his words carefully so as not to upset Mrs. Donson further. "I was attacked by someone late last night."

"What? Why were you at school so late?" Mr. Donson questioned, taking his eyes off the television for the first time since arriving at the hospital.

"Oh, just working on schedules and other band-related things," Veterson answered, averting his attention from the two people at his side. Veterson was suddenly reminded of what he had been working on before he'd heard the noise. A feeling of panic erupted in his chest. He hadn't shut down the program he'd been using before his attacker knocked him senseless! Now, everyone would know…