Claws For Concern

The hospital wasn’t all that far from my house, but with traffic and stoplights it took me almost twenty minutes to get there. Once I parked and locked the car, it took me several more minutes to get to the emergency room. By the time I reached the desk, I reckoned half an hour had passed since the call. I feared the worst when I inquired about the status of Bill Delaney.

“I’m his cousin, Charlie Harris,” I said. “Someone called and told me he has been asking for me.”

The woman at the desk nodded. “I called you. He’s in room six. You can go on back. The doc wants to talk to you. I think she’s with him now.” She pointed the way.

I hurried to Delaney’s room, surrounded by the sounds of people talking in quiet tones along with the hums and beeps of machines. A baby cried nearby, and my heart constricted. I hoped the child wasn’t the patient.

I found room six and knocked on the door. A woman’s voice called for me to come in, and I did. The first thing I saw was Bill Delaney, his head bandaged, lying on the bed. On either side of him stood a woman and a man in scrubs. The woman wore a white jacket. Once I closed the door behind me, I also noticed another person in the room, a police officer who was standing in the corner. The chill air of the room made me all too conscious of my thin-cotton short-sleeved shirt.

“I’m Charlie Harris, Mr. Delaney’s cousin. How is he?”

“Stable.” The doctor, whom I recognized from a previous visit here a few years ago, introduced herself as Leann Finch. “I remember you, Mr. Harris. You’ve been here before.”

I nodded. “Yes, I remember you, too, Dr. Finch. Will he be all right? The woman who called said he’d been injured in a hit-and-run.”

“We’ve checked for internal injuries, and I’m thankful to tell you that there don’t seem to be any. Just external wounds. Badly scraped head and arms. The real problem is his legs. He has broken both of them. The officer here can tell you more.”

The policeman stepped forward. “I spoke to a couple of witnesses who said they saw him a few seconds before the car hit him. He was walking down the sidewalk about twenty feet away. Husband said Mr. Delaney seemed unsteady on his feet and stepped into the street. Into the path of the car.”

“I see,” I replied. “Thank you.”

The policeman nodded and moved back to the corner. I turned to the doctor again.

“Does your cousin have a history of alcohol abuse?” Dr. Finch asked.

“From what I know of him,” I said, “yes, he does.” I explained quickly that I had only recently met my so-called cousin and only knew a little about his history.

“His blood alcohol level indicates that he’s inebriated, well over the limit,” Dr. Finch said. “That accounts for him being unsteady on his feet.”

“No doubt.” I shook my head as I regarded the unconscious man. “I went by to see him this morning and found him passed out. He roused for a moment but then went back to sleep.” I turned to the policeman. “Did anyone catch a glimpse of the driver who hit him?”

“The two witnesses who saw it happen said they thought the driver was a woman, but it might have been a man with long hair, too.” He shrugged. “They’re actually in the waiting room if you want to talk to them. Young couple just finished eating at that place on the square, you know, the French café.”

“I know it well,” I said. “I would like to talk to them. Thank you, Officer.”

“We need to set the patient’s broken legs, Mr. Harris,” Dr. Finch said. “There’s nothing else you can do at the moment.” She glanced at Bill Delaney, sound asleep on the bed. “The pain medication knocked him out. He’ll be able to talk to you later this afternoon when we have moved him to a regular bed.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” I said. “I’ll be in the waiting room if you need me.”

Dr. Finch nodded, already turning back to tend to Delaney. I left the room and made my way back to the waiting room. I was anxious to speak to the young couple who had witnessed the accident. I felt compelled to know everything I could about what had happened.

I passed the desk and walked into the large waiting area. I hadn’t gone more than three steps when I heard my daughter’s voice. Shocked, I turned to see her and Frank in the far corner of the room to my left. I walked over to them, and they rose from their seats to greet me.

“Dad, what on earth are you doing here?” Laura laid a hand on my arm and regarded me closely, her expression anxious. “Is it Charlie?”

“Is everything okay with Charlie? You didn’t bring him here, did you?” Frank asked at the same time.

“Everything is fine. Helen Louise is at home with little Charlie.” I watched them both relax, the worry draining from them. They sank back into their seats and looked up at me. I took an empty seat next to Laura. “Let me ask you two a question. Are you here because you were witnesses to a hit-and-run outside Helen Louise’s place?”

“How on earth did you know that?” Frank stared at me and shook his head. “You’re not psychic, are you?”