Chapter 10

Linda stared at the back of a bald man’s head. He sat in his chair two rows in front of her. Looked young. Maybe early thirties. She conjured a story around the origins of his balding. He probably started losing his hair in his twenties. His friends ribbed him. Girls looked at nothing but his thinning hair. So, he tried growing it long, combing it over and crop dusting it with hair spray to keep it in place. One windy day destroyed that strategy, blowing his hair back to reveal his naked scalp. That was when he decided that going all the way was better than fighting the inevitable and shaved his head bald. It was a good decision. His head was round and smooth and perfect—a good shape with no bumps or weird indentations. The skin gleamed white, with a hint of shadow where he’d shaved his remaining fringe. The truth was, he looked good. Maybe better than he ever looked with a full head of hair.

Joseph whimpered in his sleep, breaking her daydream. She looked at him, feeling a pang of guilt. If she brought him in sooner, maybe the infection wouldn’t have gotten as bad. But who knew chicken pox could cause something like this? She stroked his head and watched his breathing settle into a steady rhythm. A tiny wrinkle appeared between his eyes. She’d always thought his long, wavy hair and big jaw came from Danny, but it was that wrinkle that made him a dead ringer for his daddy. It reminded her of Danny punching buttons on the calculator next to a stack of bills spread over the kitchen table, his brow furrowed so deep he seemed to be in pain. She ran her finger over the wrinkle between Joseph’s eyebrows. It smoothed away. She moved her gaze back to the bald man’s head, wanting to think about anything but Danny paying bills or Joseph being sick.

The man stretched. He was big. She’d always thought Danny was big—tipping the scales at two-hundred pounds—but this guy was a monster. She wondered what brought him to the emergency room. Didn’t seem to be anything wrong with him, unless not having a neck qualified for hospitalization. He turned his head, talking to what appeared to be an empty seat.

Straightening, Linda glimpsed dark hair down low in the orange plastic seat next to the man. It was a little girl. Linda watched her stand on her chair and plant a kiss on the bald man’s cheek. The man whispered something, coaxing a big smile out of the girl. Linda wished she could hear what he’d said. As pale and sick as that little girl looked, it must have been something very nice to make her smile.

A warm feeling spread through Linda’s chest. Danny was like that. Always saying something to make a bad situation better. It must be something that certain men were born with—turning weeds into roses.

Joseph squirmed. She bounced him until he settled. It seemed like hours had passed since she’d talked to that receptionist. This was the room where time stood still. They probably had a room in the basement packed to the ceiling with the skeletons of people who died waiting in this room.

Well, they were getting five more minutes, and after that…

A flash of red reflected off the bald man’s head. Voices drifted in from the parking lot. Linda twisted in her seat. An ambulance sat in the entrance, its lights flashing. The emergency room’s automatic entry doors slid open.

“We need help! He ain’t breathing right!”

Linda shook her head. There were three men, and they looked like they’d been through a war, which they probably had based on their red bandannas. They were members of the Spanish Hand gang. Lowlifes that harassed people in the neighborhood. By the looks of things, somebody gave them a beating tonight, which they probably deserved.

Two of the gangbangers dragged in an unconscious body. The two doing the dragging looked rough. One sported an eye swollen completely shut and the other guy’s face was covered in blood. A couple of emergency medical techs trailed them. The red strobe of the ambulance flashed through the windows.

The gangbangers laid their unconscious friend down in the middle of the room. The guy with the swollen eye yelled at the receptionist. “C’mon lady! He’s dying here!”

Linda eyed the young toughs and shook her head. Take a number and get in line, she thought.

The receptionist squeaked her way toward the gangbangers in her rubber-soled shoes. She put a hand on the shoulder of the guy with the swollen eye and shouted, “What’s going on here?” at the two EMTs who’d driven the gangbangers in.

One of the techs walked over. “They said somebody dropped a case of beer on his head.” He waved at the unconscious figure. “Probably fractured his skull.”

The receptionist pursed her lips. “Get him on a gurney.”

Linda stiffened, watching the techs jog back to their ambulance.

Were they going to treat these jerks before Joseph? She started to rise, then sat as the bald guy stood and stomped over, glaring at the receptionist. “I’ve been here for over an hour with my daughter,” he said. “You can either tell these guys to take a seat, or I will, but they’re gonna wait until someone sees my daughter.”

The gangbanger with the swollen eye turned toward the bald man. Linda could tell he was ready to get into it with him. But, seeing the sheer size of the man, he kept his mouth shut. The receptionist took her glasses off and eyed the bald man.

“Sir, please take a seat. We’re required by law to provide emergency medical treatment, and this gentleman may have a fractured skull. We’ll get to your daughter as soon…”

The man’s face turned red. “Emergency treatment? Is that what my daughter’s getting, sitting here for hours?”

The receptionist took a deep breath. “If you feel the wait is too long, there are other hospitals that would be happy to check you into their system. Or maybe you could see your primary care provider.”

The bald man shook his head. Then he turned and walked back to his seat.

Linda stood. Joseph didn’t stir as she lifted him to her shoulder. She walked up to the bald man while the emergency techs wheeled the unconscious gangbanger into the hospital. She touched the man’s shoulder and said, “Is your daughter okay?”

The man turned. She could see the barely contained anger in his eyes. But then his expression turned to embarrassment.

“I’m sorry. I’m not usually like that,” he said. “I’m just worried about my daughter.”

Linda patted his shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll be fine. Things always look worse than they are.”

The man nodded. He smoothed his huge hand over his daughter’s hair.

Linda went back to her seat. She kissed Joseph’s forehead, feeling the heat of his fever. She hoped what she said was true, that things looked worse than they really were. The problem was that when it came to her and Danny and Joseph, that wasn’t the case. Things had been going from bad to worse for a long time.

She kissed Joseph again and stroked his hair.

Tonight was bad.

She just hoped it wasn’t getting worse.