Deliverance - James Dickey [92]
shoes and went to the door sock-footed, and listened. "Keep talking," I whispered back to Bobby. "Keep talking, and give me time to listen, too." I listened; I listened for the nose-whistle of breath, and maybe it was there. But then you always can hear breath, anywhere, when you want to. I couldn't hear enough, though, for it really to be breath. Or at least I didn't think I could. I took hold of the knob and jerked the door inward. Nothing. Was there any sound going down the stairs? No. I was sure. No. I turned back to Bobby and held up a circle of fingers. "I'll be in my room," I said. "Go get us those clothes and then we'll hustle our asses over to the hospital. Lewis'll still be knocked out, I bet, and I doubt they'll pump him too hard anyway, but we better try and get the change in story across to him or see what he remembers of the first one." I went back to my room, shucked off the nylon and lay thinking again. I was looking forward to the encounter with the local sheriff, or whatever he was; I was looking forward to his local species of entrapment. The sun came up more, and I pushed back the covers and lay in it. I was still tired, but the main tiredness had pulled back from me, and the bright light held it off me. It was very good, lying there wounded and stronger. Not so badly wounded now -- the stitches were pulling me together -- and a lot stronger. Yes indeed. Bobby came back with the clothes, and I pulled on dry blue jeans, a work shirt, white socks and a pair of clod-hopping brogans that linked me to the earth with every step. But I was not that tired anymore, and I enjoyed lifting them just enough. I wadded up the nylon in my hand, and we went downstairs together, both in farm clothes. It was exhilarating, now, to be so dry. The woman who owned the place was dusting. "Would you get rid of these for me?" I asked her, holding out the nylon outfit full of my blood. She looked at me. "Be glad to," she said. "Ain't but one thing to do with them." "I can't think of anything more to do with them," I said, "except to burn them." "That's what I mean," she said. "Can't use them for rags." She smiled; we smiled. Bobby and I got into Drew's car and drove out to the bospital. There were two highway patrol cars there. "Here we go," I said. "Hold on." We went in, and a fellow in white showed us to the ward where Lewis was. There were three highway patrol officers there, talking quietly among themselves with toothpicks in their mouths, and Lewis was lying either asleep or under sedation in a comer of the empty ward with a sheet medically levitated over his legs. The sandy-haired doctor was beside him, inclining his head and writing something again. He turned as he heard my heavy new steps. "Hello, killer," he said. "How'd you sleep?" "Good. Better than the riverbank." "Stitches holding?" "You know it; holding me together, like you said. There ain't nothing getting in or out." "Good," he said, in his way of going serious I liked. Lewis came to us before I had a chance to say anything else. He moved a little, up from the waist; he came like a muscular act; the veins of his biceps jumped clear, clear as anatomy, and he opened eyes. I turned to the patrolmen. "Have you been talking to him?" I asked. "No," one of them said. "We've been waiting for him to come around." "He's around, I expect," I said. "Or he will be soon. Give him a minute." He was looking straight at me. "Hello, Tarzan," I said. "How's the world of the Great White Doctor?" "White," he said. "What've they been trying to do to you?" "You tell me," he said. "I've got a heavy leg, and there's some pain in there rambling around. But we got clean sheets, and there ain't that grating sound when I move. So I guess it's all right." I got in between Lewis and the nearest patrolman -- got in close, almost head to head -- and winked. He winked back, though anybody who didn't know it was a wink, wouldn't have. "Just don't let's get on that last stretch of water again, buddy," he said. "Not today, anyway." He had given it to me without knowing it; I took it hoping that it