Leroy Watches Jr. & the Badass Bull (Bloodsong Series) by Sandy Nathan Page B

them. His breastbone was fractured. The collarbone on one side was broken; so many ribs were busted that he could only guess the number. His spine was bruised; the big bone on the top of one leg broken. His nose. Cheekbone. His skull wasn’t cracked, but his brain had been banged around inside it.
    And then the soft tissue injuries revealed themselves. Collapsed lung. Leroy gave up exploring and started healing. As he healed, his face took on a blissful expression. The healer that he was shone. He moved his hands, running them over his father, and occasionally reaching inside his body to fix something that spiritual power alone wouldn’t heal. But it wasn’t enough. He was losing; death was taking he father faster than he could heal him.
    Leroy’s healing powers had manifested when he was very young, the legacy of his mother and grandfather. They were more powerful than he was. He needed a burst of their power, now.
    “Oh, mama, it’s Leroy. I need your help. Please help me.” Leroy turned his soul toward his grandpa, “Grandpa, I need you. My dad’s gonna die if I don’t get help. I know you and he don’t get along much, but he’s been good to me. Please help him.”
    Leroy didn’t know what happened. He was overtaken and his soul enlarged. The blue light that had come out of his eyes covered him like a luminous blanket. It covered all of him, ran down his hands and into his daddy and shone out of him, too. It covered the paramedics. Leroy smiled. Done with healing his father’s injuries, Leroy went to work on his papa’s arthritis. He’d get rid of it for good. Finally, he sat back.
    His daddy was healed, asleep on the gurney. He’d let him sleep for a while, then they could get in their camper and head on home.  Leroy sagged. Healing could be exhausting; he was already worn out from the rodeo.
     
    Leroy partially roused the paramedics. “Everything’s fine. My father’s fine. You don’t have to do anything but clean him off,” Leroy instructed their deepest minds. “Keep those doctors away. They’ll kill him.”
    They nodded, entranced.
    “Remember, no doctors. Wake up now!” He snapped his fingers.
    The rear doors of the van flew open. A half dozen guys in green coats grabbed his daddy and hauled him away.
    “Stop! He doesn’t need anything.” They rolled his pop down the hall. “Where are you taking him?” Leroy wailed, running after the gurney. A bunch of orderlies turned him back at swinging doors.
    “The surgeon will talk to you when he’s done.”
    “He doesn't need surgery …” It was no use. A half-dozen burly male nurses got between him and the door cordoning off the operating rooms.
    “Come on, buddy. You don’t have to run off with him again. We got him.”
    Were they going to cut his daddy to pieces trying to find something wrong with him? Nothing was wrong with him. Leroy could have howled. For a moment, he considered blowing up the men blocking his way. He decided that wasn’t smart and his powers probably wouldn’t work, anyway.
    A nurse walked up to the men, waving her hand to shoo them off. “This nice young man isn’t going to do anything. He’s going to sit here and wait for his father.” The nurses walked away.
    She said kindly, “They’re going to take good care of your dad, son. Your father will be fine. The surgeons will fix him. You wait here.” She took him to the surgical waiting room.
    The room seemed vast, with shiny metal chairs with turquoise seats arranged in rows. Leroy was still splattered with dead bull an inch thick. He looked like he belonged in the surgery instead of the waiting room.
    A child sitting with her mother looked at him with bug eyes. She clung to her mom. Her eyes grew misty, then shut tight. Then the girl let loose like a fire engine, filling the room with terror. Several other children saw Leroy and started wailing.
    A new nurse came over. “Sir, you’re scaring the children. You need to leave or get cleaned off.”
    “I