Flamethrower - Maggie Estep [25]
“Fell,” Ruby said.
“That ain’t from no fall. Someone beat you up?”
“Sort of. Thought I was someone else,” Ruby said.
The woman grunted. They drove the few blocks to Tobias’s house in silence.
“I have to go in and help my friend walk out. He’s sick,” Ruby said as the car pulled over. She enjoyed the vast understatement.
The driver grunted again.
Ruby went inside the moldy little house, calling out to Tobias as she opened the door.
There was no answer.
“Hey, Tobias?” Ruby walked back through the kitchen and into the little room where she’d first found him. The room still smelled like him, but he wasn’t there.
“Hello?” Ruby called out.
Nothing.
“Shit,” Ruby said aloud. She went back into the living room and sat on the couch. She put her head in her hands.
Ruby wasn’t sure how many minutes passed, but eventually the driver came in looking for her.
“What’s going on here, lady?”
“Sorry,” Ruby said, “my friend seems to have disappeared.”
“You gonna pay me or what?” the driver asked, folding her arms over her chest.
She was very short, which Ruby hadn’t noticed before.
“I guess I still need to go to the hospital,” Ruby said.
“You guess? Woman, you definitely need a hospital,” the driver said. “What’s the problem? You got no money?”
“No,” Ruby protested, “I have money.”
“I can give you a ride for free.” The driver didn’t seem to believe Ruby.
Ruby was touched by the gesture but also a little concerned. Apparently, she looked a lot worse than she realized.
“I appreciate that,” Ruby said softly. “I can pay you though. I’d like to go to New York Hospital. In the city.”
The driver whistled through her teeth.
“You know you’re talking forty bucks there, missy.”
“That’s fine,” Ruby said.
“All right,” the driver shrugged, “it’s your nickel.”
Ruby tried to gather the strength to stand up.
“What’s the matter?” the driver asked.
“Nothing,” Ruby lied. She forced herself to stand. She wobbled a little.
“Whoa, Nellie!” The driver came to Ruby’s side and steadied her.
“I need to get my bike in the car.” Ruby pointed at the brown bike.
The driver shook her head. “No, no bikes.”
Ruby felt her bile rising. It was amazing how much anti-bike sentiment existed in the world, and while Ruby wasn’t a total maniac about trying to enlighten others about the wonders of the modern velocipede, neither did she appreciate stupid rules about where bikes could and could not go.
“I’ll take the wheels off,” Ruby said.
“I don’t care if you take the whole thing apart. It ain’t coming in my car.”
Ruby was too woozy to go in for a big bout of bicycle advocacy. She needed a doctor, not a fight. She pulled the door to Tobias’s house closed behind her, followed the driver over to the Lincoln, and got into the backseat. As they drove over the Marine Parkway Bridge, Ruby called Information, got her doctor’s number, called his office, and got through to his secretary, Joanne.
“Just have the triage nurse call up to us when you get to the emergency room,” Joanne said, unfazed.
Between getting stepped on or bitten by horses and occasionally crashing her bike, Ruby was in to see Dr. Parrish at least twice a year with sprains, bites, or minor broken bones. She didn’t have insurance, but Dr. Parrish, a long-time Coney Island fanatic, charged Ruby a reduced rate.
Ruby closed her phone and rested the back of her head against the seat. She closed her eyes and at some point drifted off, coming to when the car stopped. They were outside New York Hospital, and the driver was staring back at her from the front seat.
Ruby produced money from her pocket, tipping the woman extravagantly, as was her custom.
“Sorry I didn’t let you bring your bike,” the driver said penitently.
“Yeah, me too,” Ruby said.
“You gonna be all right walking in there by yourself?”
“I’m fine, thanks,” Ruby said.
She wasn’t fine. This was clear from the triage nurse’s face. Ruby didn’t have to wait long before being ushered onto a gurney and whisked back into the entrails of the emergency room.
Dr. Parrish didn’t appear until after Ruby had been CAT-scanned