Page 14 of Dark Alleys

I followed her down the hallway and she pointed to an empty room. She closed the door and began to remove the bandage. She took the medical tape off and then unwound layers of bloody gauze.

“Too much blood. Some of the stitches must’ve come apart. Were you doing anything strenuous?”

“Honestly, I wasn’t. I made sure I wore the sling most of the time and I was careful not to knock my arm into anything.”

When she was down to my bare arm she frowned. “I’ll clean this mess up and get the doctor to add a few more stitches. This must be painful.”

“Sure is.”

“I’ll be right back. Try to relax.”

“I’m trying.” I clenched my teeth together and tried not to holler out loud and scare the other patients. This gash in my arm was slowing me down too much. I had to get back to work and not sit around on my ass.

The doctor hurried in with the nurse behind him and examined my arm. “This isn’t good, Ranger. Are you keeping this arm immobilized?”

“Swear I was, Doc. I’ve been at home. Didn’t go to work.”

“How could you possibly work?” he hissed out the words and laid a death stare on me. “I’ll have to re-do some of the stitches.”

More freezing went in—three different places—and I was super happy when the freezing did its job, and my arm went numb and stopped throbbing.

While the new stitches went in, I turned my head, didn’t watch and managed to relax and slow my breathing down.

A new bandage from the nurse and a new prescription from the doctor.

No smiles. The doctor was dead serious and tried to make a point. “These are strong, and you’ll want to sleep. I’m asking you to get as much rest as possible and let the healing get started. The gash is deep, and infection will be your next worry if you don’t take care.”

“I hear you, Doc, and I’ll be extra careful. I plan to sleep the rest of the day.”

At the front desk I put more charges on the Agency medical card, thanked the nurse and drove to the laundromat a few blocks away.

Duds and Suds. Riverside Mall.

Keeping my arm as still as possible, I hauled my bag of laundry inside, loaded three machines and sat down for a smoke while the spinning took place. Already a little dizzy, I didn’t watch the machines.

A cute blonde girl in cutoffs started a machine and sat down across from me at the little table where I was checking my messages. She was young. Late teens. Might be nudging twenty but I didn’t think so.

“Haven’t seen you in here before,” she said.

“I avoid doing laundry until I’m desperate, but I have been here a couple of times.”

“I’m Cindy.”

“Lukas.”

“How’d you hurt your arm?”

“Knife fight.”

“Ooh, that sounds scary.”

“Had to get more stitches this morning. Just came from the clinic.”

“Yikes. Does it hurt a lot?”

“Lucky for me, the freezing hasn’t come out yet. Before that, it killer hurt.”

“Jesus. Can I bum a smoke?”

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