Date: Tue, 10 Jun 2003 23:58:54 -0400 From: Jeff Wilson Subject: W.A.R. Part Four, Chapter 1 Surprise! Not what I was expecting to write, but here it is... W.A.R. Part Four: Rehabilitation Chapter One -- Sunday Morning by Jeff Wilson Pain. Sharp stabbing pain shot up through my arm like a bolt of lightning. I awoke with a start in a bed I'd never been in before in a dark room that was somehow familiar, but not my own. There was a throbbing pain shooting up my arm from my hand. I reached with my other hand to feel what the problem was, but my hand touched something cold and hard instead of my skin. I looked down at my hand. But to my surprise, it was surrounded by a cast. I sat upright and looked around. Where was I? Why was my hand in a cast? What had happened to my dad? The last thing I remember was waiting in a room and some man talking to me. I seemed to remember going to the bathroom... The rest was a blur. Something must have happened because my hand was obviously broken. But why was it broken? Why was my hand broken? Did I fall? Did I get hit by a car? Did someone hit it with a hammer? I had no clue. All I knew was that at that moment, I wanted nothing more than to get out of that hospital room. I looked across the room and saw a large mirror. For a second, thought I saw my hand going through it. I didn't see my reflection in it though, I saw Dustin. I reached up to scratch my ear and conked myself in the head with the cast. I looked at the mirror again, Dustin was gone. What was happening to me? What was going on? I started to get up and realized that I was hooked up to an IV. My clothes were missing. I was in a hospital gown. I felt trapped. Scared. For a moment, I started to feel a panic spread through me. I was alone and scared and I wanted my mom more than anything at that moment. I began to hear voices. It sounded like Dr. Reilly! But the man she was talking to... I'd never heard his voice before. He sounded mean. Like a person who could do some serious harm if he wanted to. I could hear my name being mentioned. The man with the mean voice kept calling me William. Eventually, the man with the mean voice said he'd keep in touch and the door to my room opened. Dr. Reilly noticed I was awake. "Oh. You're up. Billy, do you remember anything about what happened?" She asked. I started to talk but my throat was too dry. I had to get some water before I could answer. "All I remember is coming to the hospital and Brett and Dustin breaking something. I talked with some minister, then I woke up here. Why can't I remember what happened to my hand?" "Billy, sometimes the mind does things to make us feel better. It can release chemicals to alter our moods, or it can cause us to forget things if they're too painful. I believe that is what happened to you. All we know is that Brett found you and Dustin in a locked bathroom. Your hand was bloody and the mirror was broken. We later found out that three of the bones in your hand were broken. That's why you're in a cast. What ever happened to you, it wasn't pretty." "How's my dad?" "He's in recovery. It's three o'clock in the morning now. Do you feel any pain in your hand?" "Only like hot shooting pains every three seconds." I said. "Well, I'm glad to see you still have your sense of humor. I always liked that about you." Dr. Reilly said as she patted my knee. "You said it was me and Dustin in the bathroom?" "Yes." Now that was odd. Last I remembered, Dustin hated my guts because of our argument at the ball park. Why would I be in a locked bathroom with him? Unless... No. That's stupid. Dustin wouldn't have tried to hurt me. Would he? I fell back to sleep. I awoke the next morning with my mom next to my bed. "Mom! Thank god you're here! How's dad?" I was so relieved to see her. "Oh Billy! He had a stroke, dear." She said sadly. She must have thought I forgot everything from the day before. "I know that!" I said. "I mean, how's he doing now?" "He's in recovery. You, on the other hand, are in the children's ward. Billy, what happened? How did you break your hand? Dustin says you slammed it into the bathroom mirror." For one brief moment I saw my reflection shatter as my hand came at my face. Then I saw that it wasn't my hand, but it was Dustin's. I heard this strange laughter. Then the vision was gone. Weird... "I don't know what happened, mom. All I know is one minute I was in the waiting room, then the next I woke up here and Dr. Reilly was talking with some man." "Oh, that was probably Pastor Steven. He was very concerned about you. He was praying with us when we found out about you. If he hadn't been there... I don't think I could have made it. Both my husband and my son in the hospital... I didn't know what to do." "I'm sorry mom." I said, looking at my hand in the light for the first time. I had a cast that started above my wrist and went up to my knuckles on my left hand. Only the tips of my fingers were visible. It didn't hurt as much, and I assumed that Dr. Riley had made the doctors give me something for the pain. "I guess things are really screwed up now." "I won't lie to you Billy. It's not going to be easy. We're lucky your father is still alive at all. He could have died, Billy. And then you... I don't know what to say. Dustin was beside himself saying that you said you were going to kill yourself." "I don't remember saying that..." I said. I tried to remember something, anything, from the night before. It was all murky and jumbled. "Billy, I need you to listen very very carefully to me. You are not responsible for what happened to your father. I know you two were mad at each other on Friday night, but this was going to happen regardless. There is nothing that you could have done to make this turn out any differently. Do you understand me?" She looked at me seriously. "Yes." I said weakly. The door opened and Dustin peeked inside. Mom asked him to come in and spoke to him so that I couldn't hear before she left to check on dad. "How are you feeling?" Dustin asked. The usual happiness that he displayed was replaced with anxiousness. "Dustin, tell me how this happened." I held up my broken hand and stared at him. "Your mom told me not to upset..." "Tell me or I WILL get upset!" I demanded. Dustin spoke quickly, as if the words were just waiting to burst out of him. "You went nuts when I said my dad was an asshole and you said that you were the asshole and you hurt everybody you love and then you said you wanted to kill yourself and you punched the mirror in the bathroom and then you laughed." "I laughed? When I broke my hand?" "Yeah, and you were like staring at your hand and there was like glass and blood all over it and then I opened up the door to get help and then Brett came in and accused me of doing it. By the time I got back with a doctor you were passed out. You scared the crap out of me." "Then what happened?" I asked. "Then I had to talk with this police officer about what happened while they took you to get cleaned up and x-rayed." "You had to talk to the cops?" I asked, stunned. "Yeah. It was scary. He kept asking weird questions about your parents and stuff and how you were mad at your dad for slapping you and how..." "You told him my dad slapped me? How could you do something so... so stupid?!?!" I said angrily. "He asked me! I wasn't going to lie to a fucking cop! I think they thought I broke your hand at first!" "You might as well have if you're going to do shit like that! How could you tell the police that my dad hit me? It was one stupid argument and I deserved it for what I said! God damn, Dustin you are a fucking moron! My dad's in the fucking hospital and you're selling him out!" "See, this is why I didn't want to tell you. I knew you'd take it the wrong way and blow it all out of proportion. You always do! The cop didn't care. I told him that you called your dad an asshole even though he's way cooler than my dickhead dad. The cop said you're lucky you're not his son and you'd have gotten worse than slapped if you'd have done that to him. So there!" "Dustin, I..." I started. "Don't even bother, Billy. I'm out of here. See you in school." And with that he got up and walked out of the room. I lay there feeling like a total jerk. The next time the door opened up it was Brett. Boy was I happy to see him! "Hey!" I said smiling. Brett made a little movement with his head to let me know that he wasn't going to be alone and that I would have to watch what I said. Sure enough right behind Brett was our mothers. They gathered around me and we talked for a little while. I found out that I would be released from the hospital in about two hours. Then I would be spending the next week at Brett's while my mom stayed in Pittsburgh with a friend so she could stay close to dad. Dad would probably be in the hospital for two weeks or more until he was ready to be transported to Morgantown, West Virginia for rehabilitation. My hand would be in a cast for about six weeks. Dr. Reilly and mom went to finish the paperwork on me while Brett stayed to keep me company. As soon as they left Brett kissed me about eight times on the face. "Thank God! Thank God! Thank God! I was scared to death about you! Don't you ever lock yourself in a bathroom with that lunatic again!" "What?" I asked, confused. "What do you think I mean? I don't know what he did to you, but it's pretty low to blame you for breaking your hand while your dad's in the hospital and you're getting glass chunks taken out of your hand. I know he did it Billy. There's no way you did this to yourself. No way. But that son of a bitch... I'll kill him for hurting you!" "Brett, don't say things like that, please!" I said. I hated when he talked about Dustin. "Maybe somebody needs to let the police know what that red-headed idiot does when he's at his friend's house." Brett grumbled. "Brett, no!!" I insisted. "You're never going to tell anybody about him and Mike, ever! You understand me? You don't know what happened. I don't even know. But the way I've felt for the last couple of weeks, I probably did punch that mirror on purpose." "Billy, I don't doubt that you hit the mirror. But he just got through blaming me for breaking that vase in the waiting room when you ended up breaking your hand. Maybe he was saying shit about me to you and you tried to punch him. It wouldn't be the first time you tried to hit him. Remember when he gave me that black eye?" "Brett, let's just forget it, okay. I just want to get out of here and get to your house. I can't believe I get to spend the whole week with you. I mean, it sucks that it's because my dad's sick, but we get to spend a whole week together! And school will let out early for the end of the year the last few days and we'll probably get the house all to ourselves sometimes. If anything will make me feel better, it's spending a week with you!" "Yeah... A whole week..." Brett said. A smile slowly formed on his lips and I could tell that he had some plans for us. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Okay. First of all I promise you no spoilers in this section. Just an explanation. I thought the last chapter of part three sucked. I was rushed. It was a bad time of year for me. Basically, I just wanted to get Part Three over and done with. If I were George Lucas, I'd go back and redo it. But I'm not, so the story stays the way it is, imperfect as it may be. But some important developments take place there, very important. So you want to keep in mind what happened in the last few chapters. The little stories... I don't know. I started working on them, but then they sort of recharged me and I got my writing groove back. Then, before too long I had the story for Part Four ready and Chapter One just came easily. So I don't know when I'll ever get to the unfinished sketches. Perhaps they'll remain unfinished, waiting for the day I need them again. So, what happens now? Well, I don't know. I hadn't planned on even attempting to write part four until August. Here it is June and I'm already writing again. I have no time table on when the chapters will come out. I burned out too quickly doing the once a week thing. So I guess you'll get the chapters when you get the chapters. It might be two weeks, it might be three. It might even be days. It all depends how motivated I get. One thing you will notice though is that the style will be slightly different after this chapter. I'll be taking things a little slower in this part and the chapters should be a little longer. Billy's life is beginning to calm down, and the frantic pace of events will slow down now. Send email! Let me know what you think! vicioussquirrel@hotmail.com Don't know what to say? How about this: What is your favorite line by a character so far?