concussion. âNameâs Carter Reagan Layman, born April 6, father Wesley Dodd Layman, mother Mary Jane Reagan Layman. I went to Smoky Mountain Elementary School, Cosby High School, and Cogswell Polytechnical College in Sunnyvale, California. Majored in Game Design and Development.â
Grampa punched Carterâs arm, pleased with his response. âJust checking, boy. Just checking.â
Carter, whoâd been knocked out in childhood antics and in high school football, knew how potentially dangerous a hit to the head could be.
âHow long were you out?â Carterâs father studied him with concern.
Carter tried to remember. âI donât think long. And I donât have any nausea or amnesia. How badâs the bump?â
âYouâll have a nasty goose egg there for a day or two.â He parted Carterâs hair, studying it. âBut thereâs not much blood or breaking of the skin.â He moved around to look at Carter. âThink your Grampa and I can help you stand?â
Grampa scratched his head. âItâs a mighty long walk home, Wes.â
Carter looked up in surprise. âDid the two of you walk in?â
âYeah.â His father grinned. âFollowed the dog as best we could. He set up to howling and scratching at the back door a while ago. Taylor woke up and told us Jinx always did that when something happened to anyone in the family. The boy insisted we let the dog out and told us to follow him. He was real scared when he learned you were out of the house. Cried to come with us.â
Carter ruffled the big dogâs ears again. âWell, arenât you the fine hero tonight, Jinx?â
The dog woofed softly and pushed his head affectionately against Carterâs chest.
Carter frowned, thinking of his son and remembering his fatherâs words. âTaylorâs afraid something might happen to me like it did to his mother, Dad. He has nightmares of me dying sometimes.â
âPoor kid.â Wes shook his head.
Carter rummaged in his back pocket and pulled out his cell phone. âCall Mama and let Taylor and her know Iâm all right. Beau, too; heâs spending the night and probably worrying right along with Taylor.â
Grampa put a hand on Wesâs arm. âAsk Mary Jane to drive the car over here to bring Carter home. Itâs too far for him to walk.â
âI can walk.â Carter tried to stand but found himself surprisingly unstable on his feet.
Grampa watched him. âSee? And tell Mary Jane to call Ellie to come over to check Carter out.â
Carter put a hand against the rock chimney to support himself. âAhhh, Dad. Donât make Aunt Ellie get out this late. Iâm okay. I just need a minute.â
âItâs only ten at night.â Wes looked at his watch. âShe and Rice will still be up.â He put an arm out to support Carter. âItâs either call Ellie and let her check you, since sheâs a registered nurse, or your Grampa and I will have to haul you into the hospital emergency room in Newport.â
Knowing this was an argument he couldnât win, Carter acceded. Ellie, his motherâs sister, and her husband, Rice, lived nearby in Cosby. They werenât traveling with the Gabes Mountain Band this weekend, and they wouldnât mind coming. Also, Carter knew it would frighten Taylor if he went to the hospital for anything.
He rubbed a hand over his head while his dad made the call. âSheâs on her way,â Wes said.
Carter looked through the darkness at the rocky, unpaved roadway leading up to the Costner ruins. âWell, at least we can walk down to meet them at the paved road. Itâs hard to drive up this rutted settlerâs trail.â
With his fatherâs and Grampaâs support, they started toward the road.
An hour later, Carter lay in the twin bed in his old childhood bedroom, an entourage of his family hovering
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