Chapter Ten

In the complex of condominiums where I live, many of the people have something in common. Many of the residents are Divorced or Separated. Many are young and just starting out. Many are old and just finishing up. Everyone there has one thing in common, they all have a retarded friend and his name is Bob. Bob is both mentally and physically challenged, he walks like there is a 4 foot plank wedged sideways between his knees. His bent arms rise and lower and wave as he scuffles along. He wears glasses that are as thick as sirloin steaks. He is loud, painfully honest, straightforward, and lovable. Life had dealt him this crushing malady when he was very small and to his credit he has managed to make his way through the morass well enough to live on his own. Everyone is his best friend and he relies on them heavily to get around and keep him company. When he heard about the accident he bummed a ride to the hospital and somehow found the curtained emergency room bed where I was waiting to see a doctor. It looked exactly like the bed I was in when I was struck by the tornado.
"Helllwoh!" he said in what could only be described as a screaming whisper. Bob could not whisper in a voice much lower than a police siren. When he becomes excited or agitated, or god forbid, finds something funny, his reaction is louder than if a hand-grenade had detonated in your mouth. "Mahtee, I was sooo wooowied about you!, are you going to die again?"

"Bob, come on in...No I'm not going to die, I just have some cuts and bruises that need to be checked, and have my chicken hole inspected." The old bandage around my head had partially unraveled and was stained with the blood that shot out of my nose when it broke the windshield of Russell's car. I looked like a depiction of a Civil War soldier walking out of a battle site triage.

"Are you going to die again Mahtee?" oh yes, Bob liked to ask the same questions repeatedly and I have found no way around this. Bob's face turned from an expression of sadness and remorse to one of glee in the snap of a finger. "Chicken Ho...Ha ha ha...Chicken ho...ha ha...are you going to die?" He climbed across the floor and put his elbows on my bed and his chin on his wrists. His face was very sad, "Are you going to die again, Mahtee?"

I had told him the story of how I died the day of my operation but was sent back to earth by the angels above and the story stuck with him. He told everyone at the pool what had happened and the next day he told them again. "No Bob, I'm very alive and I'm going to stay that way."

I felt a sensation as if I was rising, and I was rising because Bob was standing on the foot pedal that made the electrically operated hospital bed raise. It got high enough to stand Bob on his tiptoes and cause him to fall backwards on to the floor. I was almost 6 feet in the air when I heard something snap in the mechanism below.

"Nouse! Nouse!" shouted Bob out through the curtain. "Help me Nouse!" an angry nurse came in and told Bob he would have to wait outside. Try as she may she couldn't get the bed to lower a single inch.

"Is my Doctor coming soon?" I asked in a polite but not well received fashion.

"Listen Marty, there is a busload of wounded out there and only a Hyundai full of Doctors..I'm going to get maintenance to fix your bed" and out she stormed.

Seconds later the curtain parted and I saw the top of a woman's head come sliding in. "Marty, are you floating to heaven again?" said Lisa.

"Oh god, it's an angel come to take me to my grand reward!" I quipped. "Listen, I'm just guessing it's you Lisa, this bed is broken and all I can see is the part in your hair."

Lisa hunted around and found a foot stool to stand on. She looked gorgeous in her hospital gown, if such a thing is possible. Her slender but curvy shape was draped in a revealing way. She grabbed a hold of the bar near my head for balance. "There is my chicken-boy, I had a hell of a time finding you. I walked into two concussions and one blood spurting hand mangle!"

"Sounds like a weekend at my house!" I could be witty in times of dire distress. "I'm happy you found me, I was worried that I would never see you again."

"I wanted you to have my phone number, I would really like to spend some time with you." Her face became serious, an expression of her's that I had not seen yet, and I had been watching her face very closely.

Outside we heard a cell phone ring. Bob answered the call like a fireman yelling down a well to a stranded deaf child. "Heeeeelllllllllwoooo!!!!!"

The noise startled Lisa and she lurched forward, the foot stool she was standing on was one that had wheels on springs beneath it. When she leaned forward the wheels popped up and the stool shot out from under her. Her legs flew in the air and she screamed, she clawed and grabbed for help. She yanked out my IV and the needle in my arm erupted a volcano of blood. Her body plopped on top of mine and she straddled my waist. The forward convulsion caused her gown to rise up to her head. Just then Bob opened the curtain. "I see a nakie Buddox!" he hollered in delight.

The other side of the curtain opened and in walked Dr. Granger. "Well Senator, I warned you about a heightened libido sir." he barked

"Granger, it's not...Oh shit....This is a woman I met by the side of the road." I explained.

"Well, well, well!" he spoke with approval. "I guess those Penthouse Forum letters are true after all."

"I see yoo Buddox." repeated Bob.