Chapter Four
That night, Milo couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned, causing the blanket and bed sheets to tangle around his body. At some point, he rolled over too far and fell on the floor, covers and all. He groaned as he lifted himself up from the floor.
"Maybe I should have taken myself to the doctor." He said as he wobbled after standing up. He checked his knee, and noticed it had swelled up and was forming a rather large and nasty bruise. "Not that I would be able to pay for it." he mumbled as he limped to the bathroom. He took a look in the mirror and noticed his eye right away. "Now that is most certainly a shiner." After grabbing two ice packs, he went back to bed to try and get some sleep.
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The alarm clock on his bedside table went off at 6:00am. Unfortunately, Milo didn't wake up until 6:30am. He let out a groan as he pressed down the switch that made the bells stop ringing. However, when he saw what time it was, he immediately pushed aside his exhaustion, and got ready for work, not even allowing himself breakfast.
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When Milo walked through the doors of the Smithsonian, everyone gawked and stared at him. And because of Milo's lack of sleep, he responded grouchily.
"What are you looking at?" he asked sarcastically. Everyone pretended to go back to what they were doing, but when Milo wasn't looking they went back to staring and started whispering among themselves. He then shot them a few nasty glares. That shut them up. As Milo walked down the hall to the basement, he bumped into the curator.
"Are you ok, Thatch? You look as if you were hit by a truck." asked the curator, concerned.
"I feel as if I have been hit by a truck, Mr. Mortlake."
"Are you sure you can work today? Maybe you should take the day off."
"I should be ok." Milo responded regrettably. He wanted so bad to go home and rest. But, he knew that if he didn't work he wouldn't get paid. Just then Astrid walked up, smiling brightly. Her light-brown hair was bouncing in its ponytail. Though when she saw Milo, her smile quickly faded.
"Oh my gosh, Milo. You look awful." She grabbed his hand. "Come on, I'm taking you to the doctor."
"Right now? I have work, Astrid."
"Forget it. You're going, and I'm not taking 'no' for an answer."
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"So tell me how this happened." said Dr. Richards.
"Well yesterday I got in a fight and my knee was injured. I also received a black eye."
"Have you been getting enough sleep?"
"Last night, I couldn't sleep well." replied Milo.
"Anything else?"
"No. That's it."
"Very well. We will run a few tests and x-ray your knee."
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After all the excruciatingly long tests and an even longer wait, Dr. Richards came back with the results, and a cane. "You are very lucky Mr. Thatch. You only have a small knee fracture. You will only need this cane for about a week. About your black-eye, apply this cream every night before bed. As for your sleep issue, I suggest you go home and get some rest. And no work for a week. Just take it slow until then." Milo opened his mouth as if to protest, but the doctor held up his hand.
"Right now the most important thing is for you to get better." the doctor said. Milo and Astrid were about to make their way out the door, when Dr. Richards spoke again. "One more thing Mr. Thatch. Our head doctor said you were a good friend of his and he paid for all your medical expenses."
"Who is your head doctor?" Milo asked, suddenly curious.
"Dr. Joshua Sweet."