The Four Corners of the Sky_ A Novel - Michael Malone [189]
“It’s not love. I’m not that nuts.”
They heard something loud, crashing; the noise came from inside Pilgrim’s Rest and was followed by a scream.
“That’s Sam!” Clark took off running. Georgette was out of her car and caught up with him on the porch.
Bounding up the stairs, they both kept calling “Sam!” They found her on the floor of the hallway on the second floor. She was pinned beneath a heavy walnut armoire. It had fallen over on her leg. She was gray-faced and panting for breath.
“Sam, don’t move,” Clark instructed her.
She looked up at him, her pupils contracted, her face clammy. “Move?” She gasped. “Move? A two-ton armoire’s on top of me. Plus I think I had a stroke.”
“You didn’t. You’re okay,” Georgette said.
“Get this thing off me!”
Clark grasped the foot of the armoire. “Okay, Georgette, on three, we’re going to lift this end up and move it off her. Ready?”
“Go.”
They slid the armoire over on its side. Sam whispered, “Much better. I thought I could tilt it through the doorway.”
“Oh Jesus.” Clark checked her eyes, neck, then her limbs. One leg looked seriously damaged. He ran to call 911.
Sam muttered to Georgette “How do you know I didn’t have a stroke? Heart attack maybe.”
Georgette asked her, “Who’s the president?”
Sam panted, “Don’t tell me George W. Bush, because Gore won that election.”
“You’re fine,” Georgette told her. “Why are you wearing that big wide belt? That’s a weight-lifting belt.”
Sam whispered, “Who knew how much I’d need it? Don’t worry Annie about this, promise me.”
“Annie who?”
Sam lost consciousness just as the old blind Shih Tzu Teddy made it to the top of the stairs and began licking her face.
***
At Clark’s urging the ambulance sped at over 80 miles per hour to Emerald Hospital where the emergency room staff set Sam’s broken femur and made her ready for surgery. An orthopedic surgeon had driven up from Charlotte to operate on her leg, for the knee was crushed and there was possible nerve damage in the thigh area.
Clark bent over Sam’s gurney as the ER personnel bustled around them. “Sam, it’s Clark, can you hear me? You had an accident. You’re going to OR now. This doctor here’s going to do a little work on your leg.”
“I’m getting a new knee, I hope?” she mumbled. “I’ve got the Senior Singles Finals in October.”
“Maybe next October,” Clark told her, brushing his hand over her white hair. “You know what’s good about doctors? They’ve got a lot of patients.” Sam stared at him baffled. “That was a pun. It’s me, Clark? The mushroom tries to pick up a woman, tells her, ‘Hey, I’m a fun guy!’”
Sam groaned loopily, heavily drugged. “This not fair, can’t get ’way from him.” Turning her head, she saw Georgette. “Get me out.”
“Right,” Georgette agreed. “Take it from a doctor. A hospital’s the last place you want to be.” She left to go call Annie, although she’d promised Sam that she wouldn’t do so.
Weakly, Sam tried to talk to the surgeon, a thin red-haired woman in her fifties. “Only other time I’ve been here, when my mother stabbed me in the back. More or less. My arm really. I was protecting my heart.”
The surgeon hung the clipboard at Sam’s feet. “Is that a joke?”
Sam winced. “Not at the time.”
“This is Dr. Sarah Yoelson.” Clark moved to let a nurse check the IV drip. “She’ll be your surgeon today.”
“Hi there, Sam,” said Sarah.
Sam turned drugged eyes on her. “Yoelson. That was Al Jolson’s name. Father was Moshe Yoelson. Lithuanian rabbi.”
Sarah nodded. “I hadn’t heard that.”
Sam grinned sleepily. “‘You ain’t heard nothin’ yet.’”
Clark leaned over Sam to speak to the surgeon. “The Jazz Singer. She loves movies.” He moved to the head of the gurney, motioning for the nurse. “Be careful with that leg, Sarah. She’s a tennis player.” Clark patted Sam on the head. “I’ll cancel L’Avventura tonight.”
Sam smiled, morphine-high. “No, show it! ‘What’s all this crud about no movie tonight?’”
“I’ve heard that one!” The red-haired surgeon helped roll the gurney to the