cut way back on her drinking, which I think was half her problem. And I really
am
an old man now, though Bonnie says seventy-two’s not old anymore. I don’t
feel
old these days. I’m healthy (knock wood), I keep active and I’m not strapped for money. That’s my good way of looking at it.
I left Dave in there with Bonnie and went back to the waiting room to use the pay phone. I’d managed to put off calling Sylvia for a whole day, just about. In the first place, Dave couldn’t even get hold of me until a couple hours after he got word of the accident. (I’d been over trying to get Scotty Williams’s ArcticCat running so he could put it in the paper; he hasn’t been well the last year or so.) Then the drive down delayed things another couple hours. I meant to make the call as soon as I got to the hospital, but I found out they still had some tests to do, and by the time they finished up it was after midnight. Only ten o’clock Sylvia’s time, but she would’ve been up the whole night worrying. I could’ve called this morning, but they started getting Bonnie ready at seven and I wasn’t about to wake Sylvia up out of a dead sleep at five a.m. WhyDave Senior left it for me to pass the word to his mother-in-law is another question.
So at least now I wouldn’t be calling with all bad news, but it scared me to think what a chance I’d been taking. Imagine having to call to say Bonnie was gone—no preparation, nothing. I waited for a colored man to get done with the phone and tried not to listen—something about a transfusion. Then he went back and sat with his wife. It being a workday, we were the only ones in the waiting room. They were a nice-appearing couple, both of them starting to get some white hairs. She would look at the floor, then up at the clock. He kept hold of her hand.
Sylvia’s phone out there doesn’t ring like a regular phone; it sounds thinner and beepier. She says Harold likes to have everything modern. When she answers, she always says
Martin residence.
“Syl, this is Len,” I said. “I’m sorry to bother you. Now, Bonnie’s all right, but I wanted to let you know she
is
in the hospital.”
“Oh my Christ.”
“No, now, she’s going to be fine. The doctor—what happened, apparently somebody broadsided her when she was pulling out into traffic and they had to—they operated on her this morning and the doctor says she came through it fine.”
“Oh my Christ. What are you saying?”
But all in all she took it okay; a couple more
Oh my Christs
and that was about the extent of it. She even thought to ask who was looking after Dave Junior and how Dave Senior was holding up. I said he was doing fine. The only time he’d really started carrying on—I didn’t get into this with Sylvia—was when he told me that where Bonnie was pulling out of was a motel entrance. As I told him, she was probably looking for a phone.
“You might as well sit tight for the time being,” I said. “There’s nothing much to do here at this point. Now, when they bring her home—”
“Are you crazy?” Sylvia said. “Are you out of your mind? You think there’s any way I wouldn’t be with my
daughter
?”
I could’ve said something about that. But I just said, “Well, I’ll be here. If I’m not in the waiting room, I’m either at Dave and Bonnie’s or I’m just down getting a cup of coffee.”
“I hope you’re eating,” she said.
After I got done, the colored fellow’s wife got up and made a call and came away shaking her head. They talked together for a minute, then went over to the elevators and pressed the DOWN button.
Ding,
and the doors slid apart to take them in. I don’t know where the rest of the afternoon went to. The TV was on, a game show and then a talk show and then what I guess was a soap opera. I’m not much of a one for TV. Books, movies—anything where you just sit. Dave and Bonnie gave me a VCR my last birthday—a nice thought—but after I watched a half
am
an old man now, though Bonnie says seventy-two’s not old anymore. I don’t
feel
old these days. I’m healthy (knock wood), I keep active and I’m not strapped for money. That’s my good way of looking at it.
I left Dave in there with Bonnie and went back to the waiting room to use the pay phone. I’d managed to put off calling Sylvia for a whole day, just about. In the first place, Dave couldn’t even get hold of me until a couple hours after he got word of the accident. (I’d been over trying to get Scotty Williams’s ArcticCat running so he could put it in the paper; he hasn’t been well the last year or so.) Then the drive down delayed things another couple hours. I meant to make the call as soon as I got to the hospital, but I found out they still had some tests to do, and by the time they finished up it was after midnight. Only ten o’clock Sylvia’s time, but she would’ve been up the whole night worrying. I could’ve called this morning, but they started getting Bonnie ready at seven and I wasn’t about to wake Sylvia up out of a dead sleep at five a.m. WhyDave Senior left it for me to pass the word to his mother-in-law is another question.
So at least now I wouldn’t be calling with all bad news, but it scared me to think what a chance I’d been taking. Imagine having to call to say Bonnie was gone—no preparation, nothing. I waited for a colored man to get done with the phone and tried not to listen—something about a transfusion. Then he went back and sat with his wife. It being a workday, we were the only ones in the waiting room. They were a nice-appearing couple, both of them starting to get some white hairs. She would look at the floor, then up at the clock. He kept hold of her hand.
Sylvia’s phone out there doesn’t ring like a regular phone; it sounds thinner and beepier. She says Harold likes to have everything modern. When she answers, she always says
Martin residence.
“Syl, this is Len,” I said. “I’m sorry to bother you. Now, Bonnie’s all right, but I wanted to let you know she
is
in the hospital.”
“Oh my Christ.”
“No, now, she’s going to be fine. The doctor—what happened, apparently somebody broadsided her when she was pulling out into traffic and they had to—they operated on her this morning and the doctor says she came through it fine.”
“Oh my Christ. What are you saying?”
But all in all she took it okay; a couple more
Oh my Christs
and that was about the extent of it. She even thought to ask who was looking after Dave Junior and how Dave Senior was holding up. I said he was doing fine. The only time he’d really started carrying on—I didn’t get into this with Sylvia—was when he told me that where Bonnie was pulling out of was a motel entrance. As I told him, she was probably looking for a phone.
“You might as well sit tight for the time being,” I said. “There’s nothing much to do here at this point. Now, when they bring her home—”
“Are you crazy?” Sylvia said. “Are you out of your mind? You think there’s any way I wouldn’t be with my
daughter
?”
I could’ve said something about that. But I just said, “Well, I’ll be here. If I’m not in the waiting room, I’m either at Dave and Bonnie’s or I’m just down getting a cup of coffee.”
“I hope you’re eating,” she said.
After I got done, the colored fellow’s wife got up and made a call and came away shaking her head. They talked together for a minute, then went over to the elevators and pressed the DOWN button.
Ding,
and the doors slid apart to take them in. I don’t know where the rest of the afternoon went to. The TV was on, a game show and then a talk show and then what I guess was a soap opera. I’m not much of a one for TV. Books, movies—anything where you just sit. Dave and Bonnie gave me a VCR my last birthday—a nice thought—but after I watched a half
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