Walk on the Wild Side - By Karl Edward Wagner Page 0,92
Nam. Parts of his guts were still there. Medics didn’t give him a chance, but they dusted him off anyway, and he lived to come back, and he did just fine until the screaming would start again.
Sissy Dexter was a pert blonde teenager. She wasn’t wearing a silly helmet when her ten-speed hit an angry Doberman and her head hit the curb. She could joke about getting last rites, and she was through the worst of it.
Jeff Vickery was younger than Sissy. He had a problem with crack, in that he smoked a little too much one night, went into cardiac arrest, and by the time paramedics had him ticking, his brain had taken a licking. His mother was with him.
Alice Shepherd had choked on a bite of steak at a restaurant. By the time someone performed the Heimlich maneuver, she had suffered permanent neurological damage. Her walker and her sister accompanied her.
Daniel Chase was a chronic schizophrenic taking two grams of Thorazine a day. Once, when he forgot his medication, he jumped in front of a bus to tell the driver that he was Jesus. The driver couldn’t stop in time to hear the rest.
Tami Malone was a juvenile diabetic. As if acting out her teenage angst, she forgot to take her insulin on occasion in order to get attention. One such occasion had left her near death. Her mother huddled close to her, eating unbuttered toast as an example.
All of this and more Niane confided to Navonna following their first morning group session. Navonna had passed the time reading a Stephen King novel. She had a trailer-load of Demerol hidden in her suitcase, but she wasn’t about to let Niane know.
“Let’s go for a walk in the snow!” Niane invited. “It really reminds me of home. I’m dreaming of a white Christmas.”
“Yes. Let’s do it!” Navonna was so pleased to see Niane back to life once again. That thought stirred another thought, and she thought about that thought as she dressed for outside.
It was a typical east Tennessee snow flurry. Ground frozen enough to hold the flakes, not enough snow to cover the ground. All gone the next day. Unless more came down.
Some of the others were walking about. Niane tried to make snowballs to throw at Navonna, but couldn’t scrape up enough of the meager dusting.
They walked giggling along the gravel road, past a series of outbuildings. Garages, storage sheds, individual cabins. All in long disuse. The snow continued to flurry about them.
Niane was determined to make a snowball. She scraped bits of snow from the gravel as they walked.
She stopped suddenly. “Oh! What’s this?”
“Roadkill. Yuck!” Navonna turned away.
“But what is it?” Niane carefully picked it up from the snow.
The carcass was flattened and desiccated, about twelve inches in length. Niane at first thought it was a monkey, but this had tiny horns and bat’s wings. She flipped it in disgust toward the base of a tall pine tree.
“Squashed prop from Wizard of Oz,” said Navonna, peeking. “Leave it lay there. Probably some weird kind of bat from these mountains, and bats can carry rabies. Best you go wash your hands.”
Niane rubbed her hands on her jeans. That didn’t look like any bat she’d ever seen. Endangered species? Escaped from a zoo?
“We need to get back. Dr Ashford has us scheduled for another group session after lunch.”
That night, as they nestled together, Niane suddenly said: “I know what the common denominator is here. With the patients.”
Navonna was almost asleep. They had wrestled about in a delicious sixty-nine for what seemed like hours. “What denominator? Go to sleep, honey.”
Niane sat up in bed and persisted. “We’ve all of us had neardeath experiences.”
“Tell me about it in the morning.” Navonna rolled over and gave her a reassuring hug, urging her back to her pillow.
Niane had a morning session with Dr Ashford. She hadn’t taken any Mellaril since leaving the hospital, so she begged another Demerol from Navonna to steady her nerves. It cleared the furtive movements she kept seeing at the edge of her vision.
Dr Ashford was in his usual positive mood, exuding calm and confidence. “Well, Niane. Please sit down. You seem much more chipper this morning. The mountain air is doing you good, despite this inclement weather.”
“Thank you, Dr Ashford.”
“Please do call me Keith, if it makes you feel more comfortable. I like to establish an informal rapport with my patients.” He was dressed from an L.L. Bean catalogue and very relaxed.