Braving The Storm

5 - Surprises

I hated hospitals.

They brought back bad memories and bad vibes. They were gloomy – as if the world was only full of sickness and sad, tired people.

Regardless, I needed to stay. Twenty stitches to my head did little to seal in the evil thoughts that ran helterskelter through it. As much as I was worried for Supe – he was placed in intensive care in the vet department – I wanted to run out of the hospital, find Bill and do a number on his hideous face with a hot iron rod.

A doctor came into the room, accompanied by a nurse and Marta.

“Good to see you're conscious.” His friendly smile exposed many facial wrinkles.

“I was unconscious?” I asked, surprised by the revelation, but from my crooked voice, I gathered it was long since I last spoke.

“A day and 16 hours.” He revealed and came to stand beside me. “But that is quite normal after a minor surgery.”

“How's Supe?” I looked from Doc to Marta. “Is he okay?”

“He’s still unconscious up until now.” Marta said, fidgeting. “They told us he had a blood transfusion.”

“But he's gonna be okay.”

“Yes, he'll be fine.” Something about the way she thinned her lips made me uneasy, but I let the subject drop. She had been kind enough to get me to a hospital before I could bleed to death. It would be unfair to badger her any further.

“Now, I'm gonna do an exam to make sure you're stable and then you can relax.” The doctor said.

He checked me for any external pains. With an exception of my back, nothing else hurt on the outside; my pulse rate, temperature and whatnot and then he was gone.

Marta came up to me. “I'm so glad you're okay.”

“Thanks for coming, Marta.”

Her face contorted into a sad frown. “Bill really did this to you over $20 bucks? Really? You should get him arrested.”

I looked away. The motivation I had for revenge earlier suddenly exited my body. All I truly wanted was for Supe to be alright. I would never bring him to work again.

“I don't think I can find him.” I voiced.

“He literally tried to kill you. It would've had to be something more personal than debt for someone to want to kill you. What did you do to him?”

“It wasn't me who did something to him.” I said, staring into the distance. Bill was angry, not just because of the money I owed, but the beating he'd received from a total stranger on my behalf. This was him getting back at me.

“Who?” She pressed.

“I don't know, but when I get out of here,” I sat up with a groan. My back felt like lead. “I'm gonna go to the police.”

Later the next day, I got to see Supe. He was frail and quiet, but alive. My heart soared at that. What I would've done had my dog died would be unimaginable even to the Devil himself.

I cradled Supe carefully. He was a big canine, but could still fit under my arm. Layers of bandage covered his middle and he could barely stand without wiggling. The vet gave me prescription medicine, which Marta paid for – I couldn't thank her enough – before we were discharged.

Marta drove us home and told me to take a week off and that she would tell Locknell what had happened to me. “If he has a soul, he'll understand; if he doesn't, I'll tell the customers he has a habit of laughing at their choice of order and calling 'em names behind their backs.”