Page 48 of Run
Slowly, I bring my eyes to his, which hold an unfamiliar look. Dare I say it’s one of hope. “This is only temporary. It’s natural to panic when you are unable to control your body. But listen to me, this is just from the shock of it all. You need to let your body recover, and as soon as it’s safe, we will start rehabilitative therapy.”
I shake my head. “How long?”
“It’s hard to say. Could be a year. Could be two.”
My eyes widen as I take in my new reality. “A year or two?”
“Yes. But, Ari, you will walk again. I promise you. It will be my personal mission to see to it that you do. I will be here with you 100 percent of the way.”
“You and me both, Doc,” another voice pipes up from the doorway and my eyes dart over Doctor Powell’s head to a dark-skinned man in a navy blue scrub top and black Adidas joggers. His thick dreads are pulled back into a ponytail, and a huge smile shows off a mouthful of white teeth. The man comes sauntering into my room and gives me a wink as he walks around the bed, coming to stand on my other side.
“I’m DeShawn.” He takes my palm in his and holds it.
“This is Ari,” Doctor Powell tells the man, then turns to me. “Ari, DeShawn is one of—no, he isthebest physical therapist on the East Coast. And we are fortunate enough to have him here in residency.”
DeShawn nods. “I’d shy away from the compliment, but it’s true.” He looks down at me. “Did Doc fill you in on your injury?” I nod. “And he told you it’s just temporary?” I nod again. “Good. Now listen, Ari, I need you to take the next few weeks to relax and recover. Your body and your spinal cord need to heal. Because as soon as they do, we are going to kick some ass. And I’m going to need you strong for that. I’m going to need you to be the strongest, bravest version of yourself that you’ve ever been.”
He and Doctor Powell share a glance before DeShawn turns back to me. “I know you’ve had to be very brave in the past.” His look tells me he’s aware of my old injuries. “We’re going to get you back on your feet, Ari. I promise you.”
Looking up at DeShawn, I stop my eyes from rolling at the irony of the situation. He wants to get me back on my feet. Doctor Powell wants me to alert my “family” to my status. Well, if my “family” finds out where I am and I’m not yet “back on my feet,” I’m dead in the water. I can’t do the only thing that has ever saved me.
I can’t run.
***
A familiar voice chants my name, and once again I pull myself from the dark, unconscious state of sleep I’ve been in since Doctor Powell and DeShawn left. “Ari!”
“Soph?” I squeak out way too softly. I try again. “Sophie? Is that you?”
There’s a shriek, followed by the pitter-patter of feet about as graceful as a stampede of elephants as I hear my friend’s voicegetting closer. “Oh, sorry! … Excuse me … Oops! Not that room …” Finally, she comes into view, sweaty, out of breath, and shocked.
“Soph—” I start to greet her, but she raises a finger up to stop me, her other hand rests on a knee as she bends over to catch her breath.
“First of all, are you OK?” she asks from the doorway of my room.
I nod, then shrug. “I mean, I got hit by a truck, and I think I’m a little bit paralyzed, but other than that, I’m good.”
Sophie’s eyes bug out of her head and her face falls. “Ari, why didn’t you have the hospital contact the Millers first thing? I’ve called everywhere looking for you! I kept stopping at the pub. I called Fonz nonstop. I checked your social media and found nothing. I thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere.”
“Well, I mean, I almost was.”
“This is not the time to be witty!” She stands up straight, and it’s then I see the tears leaking from her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Soph. I just wanted to not be me for a little longer.” She sniffles, entering the room. “How did you find me, anyway?”
Sophie lets out a breath, pushes her glasses up her nose, then pulls her sweaty hair up into a knot on the top of her head. “I called the hospitals, every emergency care system, and every overnight clinic in the city to see if someone with no name was admitted over the past few days. At first everyone thought I was nuts, but finally I got someone who transferred me to someone else, who transferred me to yet someone else, who looked up some files they weren’t supposed to and informed me that someone who had yet to be identified has been a patient since Wednesday night, and I came right over.”
Sophie puts her hands on her hips, looks me up and down, and bursts into tears. “What the actual fuck happened?!”
I pat the side of my bed and she plops down on it with a bounce, past where the rail thingy is, and I tell her the whole story, starting with the fight with Sean and ending with me getting hit.
“Oh my God,” is all she says, multiple times, under her breath. She cries when I tell her about my “temporary” paralysis.
“So, what are you going to do? How long do you stay here? Or do you go to a rehab somewhere?”
I simply shake my head, because I just don’t know.
Then Sophie asks the question that has already entered my mind. “How are you going to pay for all of this? The hospitalization? The rehab? I mean, I’m sure you don’t have insurance.”
