I waited a few uncomfortable moments to see if he’d eventually respond, but he remained quiet.
“Okay. So that means I’m here to do a last check of your vitals and, if you’d like to get out of bed, take you for one last walk. Would you like to go for a stroll?”
I prayed his answer was no. The thought of extra steps made me feel nauseous now that the pain in my heel was radiating through my entire foot and ankle.
He grunted. Not a yes or a no. Just a grunt to his wall.
I wasn’t sure if his mind was on other things or if it was just plain rudeness, but Ben was absolutely not interested in engaging in conversation with me. Not that I was feeling particularly chatty myself.
“All right, Ben, here’s the deal. The last thing in the world I want to do right now is take any more steps than absolutely necessary. I’ve got a huge blister on my heel that I’ve been walking around with all day. A lap around this floor will probably bring me to tears. How about I check your vitals, then we skip your walk?”
He didn’t answer.
“I’ll just sit here with you and stare at that wall for thirty minutes. Then I’ll move along to your neighbor’s room. Okay?”
I didn’t wait for a response, not that I had planned on getting one.
“Or if you feel like it, you can tell me more about how you landed yourself in the hospital. If you don’t, well, I’ll just be quiet. All right?”
Again, no answer.
“What a surprise? He’s speechless,” I deadpanned. “Really, Ben. You’ve got to learn to let me get a word in. It’s rude to do all the talking. Now if you’ll please just be quiet for a minute. All that talking is giving me a headache to go along with my hurting foot.”
Ben was silent for a moment, then turned his head toward me, smirking. “How about we take that walk after all? I’m feeling the need to stretch my legs. Think today I could do an extra lap.”
The defeated and pained look on my face must have been hilarious because his smirk turned into a full-blown smile, exposing straight but yellowed teeth.
“Kidding, girl.” He chuckled.
Relief washed through my whole body.
“You’re a funny man, Ben.” I sagged down into his visitor’s chair. “Do you feel like telling me the story of how you fell and landed yourself in the hospital?” I asked, using his joke as my opening to learn more about Ben Coppersmith.
Ben shifted on his bed of pillows to look my way.
“Was up on my roof, fixing a leak by the chimney. Trying to balance myself, the bucket of tar and my putty knife at the same time. Don’t know how but as I shifted to get down, lost my footing and slid down and over the side. Was able to grab hold of the gutter on my way down and slow my pace. But still fell about ten feet and hit cement sidewalk at the bottom,” he said. “Gettin’ old, girl. Years ago, probably would have landed on my feet. Now, well . . . my body’s starting to fall apart.”
My eyes bugged out. What in the hell was he doing up on a roof at seventy-eight years old? Yes, he appeared to be in good shape. I probably would have pegged him mid-sixties if I’d run into him on the street. But despite his physique, old men should not be on rooftops.
“Ah . . . okay,” I said. “You sure don’t look like most seventy-eight-year-old men I see in the hospital, Ben. But regardless, no one over the age of, well, I don’t know . . . forty-five should be traipsing over rooftops. Don’t you have family or friends who could have done that work for you?”
“Got lots of friends. Never had much family. None of them were gonna be able to do this job though. And I’m too old and stubborn to pay some roofing company to come out and fix something I know how to do and could do myself in an hour.”
“Well, just to point out, you might know how to fix a leaky roof but your current location indicates you maybe couldn’t do it by yourself after all,” I returned. “Why couldn’t your friends do it for you?”
“They’re all out at Highland.”
“Highland? Is that where you’re from?” I didn’t know any towns near Spokane called Highland but maybe it was out of state.
Ben turned his brown eyes back to the wall. “Highland Cemetery. Only friend left to help lives in Montana.”
If Ben didn’t have anyone to help him with the leaky roof, who was going to help him after he got home from the hospital? Or help him even get home from the hospital?
“How were you planning on getting home, Ben?”
“My car’s at home. Ambulance brought me here when I called 9-1-1. Figure I’ll just call a cab in the morning once you people set me free,” he said.
“What about clothes? Do you have something to wear home?” He couldn’t leave in a hospital gown.
