Page 6 of Smuggler's Cove
Even before the news of the accident, Rita had no plan of action. She was using the time as a vacation from reality. She hoped and prayed an idea or a solution would come to her. Going back to that environment was not an option. Even if the man was unconscious. It was no atmosphere to raise children. Such a quandary. If her husband survived but was in a vegetative state, would that be better than if he were in a raging alcoholic state? Once again, she thought of the children. It would be horrible for them in either case.
George came in for lunch. “Why the long faces, ladies?”
Betty explained the situation to him.
“We can drive you up there, Rita. If that’s what you want to do.” He was as confounded as Rita.
“I say we wait.” Betty folded her arms. She was always the more willful of the two sisters.
Jackson bounced into the kitchen with Kirby in tow. “Hey, Uncle George.”
“Hey yourself, kiddo.” Uncle George tussled Jackson’s hair.
“Ready for some lunch?” Betty asked, before any further conversation about the accident occurred.
“Grilled cheese, please?” George asked.
“With bacon.” Betty knew it was George’s favorite. “What about you, Jackson? Kirby?”
Jackson said, “Yes, please.” Kirby bobbed his head up and down enthusiastically. “Yes, please,” he parroted his brother. Jackson had heard them whispering when he walked into the kitchen. He wondered what was going on. He looked at his mother. He could tell she had been crying. The wadded-up tissue in her clenched fist was a big hint. But the quietness. There was no conversation, unlike all the other meals over the past two and a half days. He wondered if he had done something wrong. But if he had, would Aunt Betty offer him bacon?
Jackson’s thoughts were interrupted by the ringing on the telephone. Everyone jumped. Rita began to shake. George got up and picked up the receiver.
“Hel-lo,” George said in a pleasant tone. He looked over at Rita. “One moment.” He put his hand over the mouthpiece and then looked toward Jackson and Kirby.
Rita just didn’t bother shooing them out of earshot. The kids were going to find out eventually. She scraped the chair away from the table and walked over to where George was holding the phone.
Rita took the receiver from him. “Hello. This is Mrs. Taylor.” She listened. “I see. Yes. Yes, that will be fine.” She listened again. “Thank you.” She turned to the curious eyes that were carefully watching her. “No change, but they are moving him to a special unit.”
“Who’s moving, mother?” Jackson asked.
Rita crouched in front of her son. “It’s Daddy. He was in an accident. He’s in the hospital.”
“Oh.” Jackson’s response was succinct.
Kirby wanted to know what an “axel-dent” was.
Rita looked at Betty and George.Should she tell them more?
“It’s called an accident,” she corrected him. “It’s when someone gets hurt.”
“Daddy is hurt?” Kirby asked.
“Yes. They think he might be in the hospital for a while. They are going to call again later.” Rita spoke slowly, carefully, looking for any signs of distress from her sons.
“Okay,” Jackson replied, and finished his grilled cheese and bacon sandwich. He couldn’t remember when he ever tasted something so delicious. Kirby pulled the cheese from the sandwich in ignorant bliss. After lunch, they went back outside to play while the adults pondered what might happen next.
By dinnertime, there was still no news as they sat down for meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Once they finished dinner and brought their plates to the sink, Rita asked if the children could watch a little television as a diversion. A favorite at the time wasThe Jackie Gleason Showwith musical and comedy skits. The kids were enthralled by the magic of television and didn’t seem to care what was on. Even though they had a small TV at home, they were rarely allowed to watch it.
After an hour of entertainment and distraction, Jackson and Kirby were tucked in their beds, with Kirby on the lower part of the trundle. George, Rita, and Betty sat in the living room when the phone stirred everyone’s nerves again. George answered. He nodded to Rita. “Yes, one moment, please.”
Rita put the phone to her ear, not knowing what news she was hoping to hear. “This is Mrs. Taylor.” She listened. This time, whatever she was being told took a little longer. “Yes, I understand. Just give me a moment.” She put her hand over the receiver. “They said I should go up there. Paperwork, and such.”
George immediately offered to drive her. “We can leave first thing in the morning. Should take about two hours.”
Rita returned her attention to the caller. “Yes, I can be there by eleven.” She reached for the pad and pencil that were sitting on the table where the phone was perched. She began to write something down. “Yes. Thank you.” She hung up and read the address to George and Betty. “They’re taking him to the VA hospital tomorrow afternoon, but I have to bring his discharge papers before they can transfer him.”
“Did they give you any indication of his condition? Has anything changed?” Betty asked.
