Bone Harvest - Mary Logue [77]
A youngish woman sat at the information desk, but she was looking down at her lap. When Earl walked up closer, he saw that she was knitting. He stood quietly and watched her for a few moments. The needles moved in and out of the yarn like magic. A hot activity for this time of year, but it was air-conditioned in the hospital.
“What’re you knitting?” he asked her.
“Oh.” She jumped. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were there.”
“What’re you knitting?”
“A sweater for my son. For Christmas. I always get a head start.”
“He’s a lucky son.”
“Thanks.” She smiled up at him. “What can I help you with?”
“I’m here to see my son, Andy Lowman.”
Her face dropped slightly. She knew what had happened to his son. She felt sorry for him. “He’s up on the second floor. It’s not really visiting hours.”
“I know, but I just drove up from Tucson. I’d like to see him for a moment.”
“I guess that’s all right.” She gave him the room number.
As he stood in front of the elevator, he remembered all the events that had taken place in this hospital. His children had been born here. His mother had died here. He had lost his appendix at this hospital. The smell—why did all hospitals smell like that? A mixture of sorrow and ammonia. Not unpleasant, but sometimes a little too strong.
As he came up to the room, he could hear talking. He wondered if one of the nurses was in there. Then he stood in the door and saw Marie leaning over the bed. Andy was sitting up with his eyes open and he was talking.
“Andy,” Lowman said.
They both turned and saw him. Marie’s face was wet with tears. “He’s back,” she said, and Earl didn’t know if she was talking about Andy or himself.
“Dad,” Andy said.
“Is it okay if I’m here?” Earl asked.
Marie walked up to him and said, “You must be exhausted.”
“I think we all are,” he said as he hugged her.
“Come and take a chair.” She pointed at the chair that was pulled up next to the bed.
“How long has he been awake?”
“A couple of hours. He’s pretty groggy. Doesn’t remember much of what happened. But doesn’t look like he’s going to slip away again. The nurses have come in and checked him over. Everything looks good. They’re pretty sure they got all the pesticides out of his system.”
“Hallelujah,” Earl said quietly.
He sat down in the chair and looked at his son whom he hadn’t seen in ten years. His son was getting old. The wrinkles had set in around his eyes and down his cheeks. But he was wearing well. Looked strong.
“I’m sorry about everything, Andy.”
The eyes fluttered shut, then jumped open again. Andy turned his head to see his father. “Don’t go there, Dad.”
But Earl couldn’t stop himself. He knew it wasn’t time to talk of such things, that it was only time to rejoice that his son was risen from the dead, but he needed to get it out and say it. He had promised himself he would. “I’m going to talk to the police tomorrow and tell them everything. I decided on my way up here that no matter what, I would tell them what happened.”
His son nodded his head. “Mom would be glad.”
The rich smell of deep summer night followed Rich as he walked up Claire’s hill from town. The slight dip in temperature, probably from a high of eighty-five that day to about seventy-five right at present, caused dew to form, glazing grasses and lilac bushes. A silvery haze glowed around the streetlights as bugs flew in and out of it.
The light he was looking for was in Claire’s house, and he found it. Her light was on in her bedroom. That meant she was still up. Before walking up the hill, Rich had decided that if her light was on, he would knock no matter what time it was. He needed to see her. They needed to talk.
After she had left the Fort, he had gone in and had two beers. He felt like such an idiot for the way he behaved. No wonder she was taking her time thinking about whether she wanted to hitch up with a guy like him.
He knocked on her porch door. Then he heard her coming down the stairs. The door opened and she was in his