Chapter 7 bath

The mother drove to the bakery in the shopping center on Saturday afternoon.After looking at the pictures of the cakes on the binder, she ordered the chocolate ones, the kids' favourite.The cake she had chosen was decorated with a spaceship and launch pad, beneath twinkling white stars.Then write the name "Scotty" in green frosting like it was the name of the spaceship. The baker listened thoughtfully when the mother told him that Scottie would be eight.He was very old, the baker, and he had on a strange apron, very heavy, with the straps going under his arms and coming around the back to the front, where they were tied in a big knot.He kept wiping his hands on his apron as he listened to her.His wet eyes watched her lips as she studied samples and spoke.

He didn't rush her.He was in no rush. The mother ordered the spaceship cake, and she gave the baker her name and phone number.The cake will be ready on Monday morning, enough time for the afternoon party.So much for a baker to say.No politeness, just short conversations, the most basic information, nothing unnecessary. The boy was accompanied by another boy on his way to school on Monday morning.The two boys were passing a bag of crisps back and forth, and the birthday boy was trying to figure out what the other boy was giving him as a present. At the intersection, the birthday boy stepped off the pavement without looking, and was immediately hit by a car.He fell sideways on the ground, his head in the gutter, but his legs moved along the road as if climbing a wall.

Another boy was standing there with crisps.He wondered whether to eat the rest or keep going to school. The birthday boy didn't cry, but he didn't want to say anything.When another boy asked him how he felt after being hit by a car, he didn't answer.The birthday boy got up, turned and walked home.The other boy waved him goodbye and headed for the school. The birthday boy told his mother what had happened.They sit on the sofa.She took his hand and put it on her lap when the boy withdrew his hand and lay down on his back. Of course, the birthday party didn't take place.The birthday boy is in the hospital.The mother was sitting by the hospital bed, and she was waiting for the boy to wake up.The boy's father hurried over from the office.He sat next to the boy's mother.So now they are both waiting for the boy to wake up.They waited a long time, and later, the boy's father went home to take a shower.

The man was driving home from the hospital.He drives faster than usual.So far, life has been smooth sailing.Work, be a father, have a home.The man has been happy and lucky.But now the fear made him want to take a bath. He turned into his driveway.He sat in the car trying to get his leg back on track.The kid was hit by a car and he's in the hospital, but he'll be fine.He got out of the car and walked to the front door.The dog is barking.The phone is ringing.The phone kept ringing as he opened the door and fumbled for the light switch on the wall. He picked up the phone.He said, "I just walked in!"

"Here's a cake that hasn't been taken yet," That's what the voice on the other end of the phone said. "What did you say?" said the boy's father. "Cake," said the voice. "Sixteen dollars." The husband held the receiver to his ear, trying to figure it out. "I didn't know there was such a thing," "Stop doing this with me," said the voice. The husband hung up the phone.He went into the kitchen and poured some whiskey.He called the hospital. The child's condition has not changed. While filling the tub, the man soaped his face and shaved.He was lying in the bathtub when the phone rang.He got up and walked quickly across the room, saying, "Stupid, stupid," because if he'd been in the hospital, he wouldn't be what he is now.He picked up the microphone and yelled "Hi!"

The voice said, "It's ready." The father returned to the hospital just after midnight.His wife was sitting in a chair by the bed.She looked up at her husband and then back at her child.A device hangs from a bottle with a tube attached to the child. "What is this?" said the boy's father. "Glucose," said the boy's mother. The husband puts his hand behind the woman's head. "He'll wake up, the man said. "I know," the woman said. After a while, the man said, "You go home, I'll stay here. She shook her head. "No," she said.

"Really," he said. "Go home and rest, don't rush it. He's just sleeping." A nurse pushed open the door.She came to the hospital bed and nodded at them.She pulled his left arm from under the covers and put her fingers on his wrist.She slipped her arms back under the covers and wrote something in a plywood notebook attached to the bed. "What's the matter with him?" said the mother. "Stable," the nurse said.Then she added, "The doctor will be here soon." "I'm saying maybe she should go home and get some rest," the man said. "When the doctor comes," he said.

"She can do that," the nurse said. The woman said, "Let's see what the doctor says first." She put her hands in front of her eyes and tilted her head slightly forward. The nurse said, "Of course." The father stared at his son, his small breasts rising and falling under the covers.He was getting more and more afraid.He started shaking his head.He said to himself that the child is all right, that he did not sleep at home, but here.Wherever you sleep, you don't always sleep. The doctor comes in.He shook hands with the man.The woman stood up from the chair.

"Ann," he said, nodding.The doctor said, "Let's see how he is first." He came to the edge of the bed and touched the boy's wrist.He rolled one eyelid, then the other.He lifted the quilt and listened to his heart.He ran his fingers all over his body.He went to the foot of the bed and studied the form.He noted the time, wrote something on the form, and watched the boy's mother and father attentively. The doctor is a handsome man.His skin was moist and tanned.He was wearing a three-piece suit, bright tie, and shirt cuffs with cuff buttons. the boy's mother said to herself.He had just come from a place with an audience.They gave him a medal.

The doctor said. "There's nothing to say, but nothing to be nervous about. He'll wake up soon." The doctor gave the boy another look. "When the test results come out, it will be clearer." "Oh, my God," Ann said. The doctor said. "Sometimes you can see that." said father. "You wouldn't call this a coma, would you?" He waited, he looked at the doctor. "No, I don't want to call this a coma," the doctor said. "He was in sleep. It was a recovery measure. The body was doing what it was supposed to do. "It's a coma," said the mother, "sort of."

The doctor said. "I don't want to call it that." He took the woman's hand and patted it lightly.He shook hands with her husband. The woman put her finger on the child's forehead and left it there for a moment. "At least he doesn't have a fever," she said.She continued, "I don't know. Touch his head." The man puts his finger on the child's forehead.The man said, "I think that's how it should be now." The woman stood there for a while longer, biting her lip with her teeth.She went back to the chair and sat down. Her husband sat down in the chair beside her.He wanted to say something, but he couldn't tell what it should be like.He took her hand and placed it on his lap.It made him feel like he was talking.They just sat there for a while, looking at the child, without speaking.He squeezed her hand now and then until she pulled it away. "I've been praying," she said. "Me too," the boy's father said. "I've been praying too." A nurse came back to check the flow of fluid in the bottle. Come in a doctor.Said what his name was.The doctor wears a pair of loafers. "We're going to take him downstairs again to take some pictures," he said. "We're going to do a scan." "Scan?" the boy's mother said.She stood between the hospital bed and the new doctor. "It's nothing," he said. "My God," she said. Two handymen came in, pushing something like a bed.They pulled the tubes off the boy and moved him to the thing with wheels. The sun was already out when they sent the birthday boy out.Mother and father followed the orderly into the elevator and upstairs to take the boy back to the ward.The parents sat in their seats next to the hospital bed again. They waited all day, but the boy still did not wake up.The doctor came again, examined the boy again, told them the same thing, and left.Doctors and nurses came and went.A laboratory technician came in to draw blood. "I don't understand this," the mother said to the assayer. "The doctor's order," said the assayer. Mother went to the window and looked out at the parking lot.Cars with lights on drove in and out.She stood by the window with her hands on the sill.She was talking to herself.We have a problem, a serious problem. She was scared. She saw a car pull up and a woman in a long coat get in.She wanted to believe that she was the woman, that she was driving away from here, to another place. The doctor comes in.He looks healthier than ever.He went straight to the bed to check on the boy. "He's showing good signs. Everything's fine." "But he's been sleeping," the boy's mother said. "Yes," said the doctor. Her husband said, "She's tired. She's hungry." The doctor said, "She should rest. She should eat something. Ann." "Thank you," said the husband. He shook hands with the doctor.The doctor patted them on the shoulder and left. "I think one of us should go home and take care of it," the man said. "The dog needs to be fed." "Call the neighbors," Ann said. "If you ask them to help, someone will feed him." She is thinking about whom to find.She closed her eyes, too tired to think about anything.After a while, she said, "Maybe I'll go. Maybe I don't sit here looking at him all the time and he wakes up, maybe I keep looking at him and he doesn't wake up." "Maybe so," said the husband. "I'll go home and take a shower and change into clean clothes," the woman said. "I think you should," the man said. She picked up the leather bag on the bedside table and he helped her put on her coat.She walked to the door, turned and looked back.She looked first at the child, then at his father.The husband nodded and smiled. She passed the nurse's room, walked to the end of the corridor, and looked for the elevator.At the end of the corridor, she turned a corner and saw a small waiting room with a black family sitting on rattan chairs.A man was wearing a khaki shirt and pants, with a baseball cap turned backwards.A large woman in homely clothes and slippers, a girl in jeans, her hair pulled into a dozen little curly braids.Thin wrappers, Styrofoam cups, coffee stir sticks and packets of salt and pepper piled on the table. "Nelson," said the large woman, startled. "Is that Nelson?" The woman's eyes widened. "Tell me now, ma'am," said the woman. "Is that Nelson?" The woman tried to get up from the chair, but the man held her arm. "Take it easy, take it easy," he said. "Evelyn." "I'm sorry," the boy's mother said. "I'm looking for an elevator. My son is in the hospital and I can't find an elevator." "The elevator is over there," the man said, pointing his finger to the right. "My son was hit by a car," the boy's mother said. "But he's going to be fine. He's in shock, but maybe some sort of coma. That's what we're most worried about, coma. I'm going to go out, maybe take a shower. But my husband is with me Him. He's looking at him. There's a chance that things will change when I'm gone. My name is Ann Weiss." The man moved in his chair.He shook his head. He said, "Our Nelson." She turned into the driveway.The dog came running from the back of the house.He spins on the grass.She closed her eyes and rested her head on the steering wheel, listening to the ticking of the engine. She got out of the car and came to the front door.She turned on the light and boiled water for tea.She opened a can of dog food and fed it to the dog.She sat on the sofa with a cup of tea. The phone rang. "It's me!" she said. "Hi!" she said. "Mrs. Weiss," said a man's voice. "It's me," she said. "I'm Mrs. Weiss, is it about Scotty?" she said. "Scotty," said the voice. "It's about Scotty," said the voice. "It's about Scottie, yes." ① Loafer, a trademark of low-top casual leather shoes.