|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Matty's head snapped back as if spring-released. "What?" |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"We're just going to the clinic to have you looked at, to make sure . . ." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"NO! I am not going to the doctor's." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
His extreme reaction startled Terry. His eyes were all pupils. He looked . . . terrified. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"You could get an infection." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"No. I'm not going. I'm fine." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"They'll just check to see nothing's wrong." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
He pounded his hip with his fist. "NO! I'm telling you, nothing's wrong." She could see him fight back the tears. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"But, Matty, there might be some damage to your eye or cheekbone." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Then there's nothing to be afraid of." If Tojian weren't coaching today, Matty would go to him. Tojian was patient and kind, never distracted or rushed. It was he who persuaded Matty to sign up for Little League. They were pals. He could handle this. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"All they'll do is put some medication on the bruise" |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
He pounded the banister and rushed upstairs. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Lots of soap," she shouted pathetically behind him. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The pressure in Terry's head was now so great, she feared a stroke. She flopped down in a chair thinking about going after him when the telephone rang again. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
It was Calvin. "I've been everywhere. I can't find him." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"He had a fight, his face is bruised but he's okay . . . I guess." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"I don't know what happened exactly. I don't want to talk. Just come home." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
While she waited for Calvin, Terry sat at the kitchen table with a cup of tea and listened to the water rushing through the pipes to Matty's shower. It sounded like voices whispering just below the threshold of consciousness. |
|
|
|
|
|