The Nelson Shot
Part 3
“You all right? You got a concussion?” Foggy placed his hand on her shoulder.
“I just need a minute,” she murmured.
“Hey, Matt’s still alive, take as much time as you need.”
Although Foggy was obviously trying to sound cheerful, Claire could still hear the worry in his voice. She let herself have the promised minute, then put the ice pack aside and looked around for her bag. “Let’s get started.”
But if she‘d hoped that Matt would become less violent once she’d deadened the nerves around his wound, Claire was disappointed. With Foggy holding up the material of the suit so she could see where Matt was injured, Claire got to work. She’d only managed two stitches, though, before Matt began to thrash and cry out again.
“Muh hands! Can’t move muh hands!”
“Sshhh, Matt, it’s okay, I’m here,” Claire said, reaching out to pat his chest.
“Can’t move muh legs!” But he was moving them as much as he could within the confines of his bonds. He just couldn’t run or kick. Claire rubbed his chest harder, hoping he could feel it through the suit.
“Matt, you’re fine, everything is okay, you’re dreaming,” Foggy told him, patting Matt’s arm while glancing at Claire for reassurance that he was saying the right thing. She shrugged, also not certain, but Foggy went on. “You’re dreaming, go back to sleep, you’ll feel better when you wake up.”
“Foggy?” Matt turned his head in the right direction, which gave Claire hope for a moment, but then he turned it away again. “Foggy, uh can’t move!”
“You’re fine, Matt,” Foggy repeated. “This is a dream. Go back to sleep.”
“Can you hold him still?” Claire asked. “I should finish this before the Lidocaine wears off.”
“What do you want me to do, lay on him?” Foggy snapped. Then he stopped and said, “Sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“It’s okay,” Claire told him, even though she felt like snapping, too. “Just do your best.”
Somehow, she managed to finish the rest of the stitches and put a bandage over them. Thankfully, Matt had gone quiet again, letting her work in relative peace.
“All done?” Foggy asked, letting go of Matt.
“Almost,” she said. “I want to check his head, see if he’s hurt there. Can you help me with his mask?”
As Foggy wrestled with the mask, he grunted, “Don’t know how he gets this on and off. I’m going to have to get him to show me when he wakes up.”
But eventually, the mask came off, and Claire was able to run her fingers over Matt’s skull. No matter how often she checked, though, she couldn’t find any sign of swelling or contusions.
“Nothing,” she finally conceded. “Whatever did this to him wasn’t a brain injury.”
“What else could it be?”
Claire considered as she packed up her things. “I’m thinking some kind of drug, maybe. We’ll just have to wait until it wears off. Maybe Matt will know what hit him.”
“Hit a wall,” Matt said. “Uh hit da wall.”
“Yeah, Matt,” Foggy agreed, patting his arm again. “You’re fine now.”
“Uh kicked a dog,” Matt went on, shifting his legs restlessly. “Uh kicked a dog!”
“Yeah, Matt, you kicked a dog, now go back to sleep.” Foggy patted his arm even harder.
“I need to go,” Claire said, indicating her nose. “I need to get this checked out.”
“Yeah, I’ll stay with Matt, you go on,” Foggy said.
“Was uh little dog, coulda killed it,” Matt insisted.
“Matt, shut up about the damned dog and go the fuck to sleep!” Foggy cried, then cringed visibly. “Sorry, Matt, sorry. You’re dreaming, remember? This is all just a bad dream.”
“I’ll be back in a few hours,” Claire said wearily. She wished it was all just a bad dream for her and Foggy as well, but the pain in her nose and the blue-flowering bruise around Foggy’s eye were more than enough proof that it was real. Then she thought of something. “Has Matt got any scissors here?”
“I don’t think so, why?”
“You need to keep an eye on him, and if he starts to vomit, you need to cut him loose, here and here.” Claire indicated the gauze lines that led down to the legs of the bed.
“He’s gonna puke?” Foggy sounded close to panic at the thought. Claire thought he must be one of the guys who could dish it out, but not take it, and took mercy on him.
“No, probably not. But just in case, cut him loose and roll him over onto that side so he doesn’t choke.”
“Uh … okay.”
Claire pulled out the scissors she’d just packed away. “Here, use these if you need to. With the way we’ve restrained him, he shouldn’t be able to hit you. Much.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can. Hopefully it won’t take too long at this time of night.”
“Do you need someone to go with you?” Foggy checked his watch. ”It’s only, uh, three a.m. on a Saturday morning, we can call Karen. Why should she get to sleep when we don’t?”
Claire shook her head. “I’ll be all right. Just … watch over Matt.”
“I always do,” Foggy said. “Well, as much as he lets me.”
And then Claire did smile, despite the pain. “Yeah,” she said with a knowing nod. “Yeah.”
Go to Part 4
“I just need a minute,” she murmured.
“Hey, Matt’s still alive, take as much time as you need.”
Although Foggy was obviously trying to sound cheerful, Claire could still hear the worry in his voice. She let herself have the promised minute, then put the ice pack aside and looked around for her bag. “Let’s get started.”
But if she‘d hoped that Matt would become less violent once she’d deadened the nerves around his wound, Claire was disappointed. With Foggy holding up the material of the suit so she could see where Matt was injured, Claire got to work. She’d only managed two stitches, though, before Matt began to thrash and cry out again.
“Muh hands! Can’t move muh hands!”
“Sshhh, Matt, it’s okay, I’m here,” Claire said, reaching out to pat his chest.
“Can’t move muh legs!” But he was moving them as much as he could within the confines of his bonds. He just couldn’t run or kick. Claire rubbed his chest harder, hoping he could feel it through the suit.
“Matt, you’re fine, everything is okay, you’re dreaming,” Foggy told him, patting Matt’s arm while glancing at Claire for reassurance that he was saying the right thing. She shrugged, also not certain, but Foggy went on. “You’re dreaming, go back to sleep, you’ll feel better when you wake up.”
“Foggy?” Matt turned his head in the right direction, which gave Claire hope for a moment, but then he turned it away again. “Foggy, uh can’t move!”
“You’re fine, Matt,” Foggy repeated. “This is a dream. Go back to sleep.”
“Can you hold him still?” Claire asked. “I should finish this before the Lidocaine wears off.”
“What do you want me to do, lay on him?” Foggy snapped. Then he stopped and said, “Sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“It’s okay,” Claire told him, even though she felt like snapping, too. “Just do your best.”
Somehow, she managed to finish the rest of the stitches and put a bandage over them. Thankfully, Matt had gone quiet again, letting her work in relative peace.
“All done?” Foggy asked, letting go of Matt.
“Almost,” she said. “I want to check his head, see if he’s hurt there. Can you help me with his mask?”
As Foggy wrestled with the mask, he grunted, “Don’t know how he gets this on and off. I’m going to have to get him to show me when he wakes up.”
But eventually, the mask came off, and Claire was able to run her fingers over Matt’s skull. No matter how often she checked, though, she couldn’t find any sign of swelling or contusions.
“Nothing,” she finally conceded. “Whatever did this to him wasn’t a brain injury.”
“What else could it be?”
Claire considered as she packed up her things. “I’m thinking some kind of drug, maybe. We’ll just have to wait until it wears off. Maybe Matt will know what hit him.”
“Hit a wall,” Matt said. “Uh hit da wall.”
“Yeah, Matt,” Foggy agreed, patting his arm again. “You’re fine now.”
“Uh kicked a dog,” Matt went on, shifting his legs restlessly. “Uh kicked a dog!”
“Yeah, Matt, you kicked a dog, now go back to sleep.” Foggy patted his arm even harder.
“I need to go,” Claire said, indicating her nose. “I need to get this checked out.”
“Yeah, I’ll stay with Matt, you go on,” Foggy said.
“Was uh little dog, coulda killed it,” Matt insisted.
“Matt, shut up about the damned dog and go the fuck to sleep!” Foggy cried, then cringed visibly. “Sorry, Matt, sorry. You’re dreaming, remember? This is all just a bad dream.”
“I’ll be back in a few hours,” Claire said wearily. She wished it was all just a bad dream for her and Foggy as well, but the pain in her nose and the blue-flowering bruise around Foggy’s eye were more than enough proof that it was real. Then she thought of something. “Has Matt got any scissors here?”
“I don’t think so, why?”
“You need to keep an eye on him, and if he starts to vomit, you need to cut him loose, here and here.” Claire indicated the gauze lines that led down to the legs of the bed.
“He’s gonna puke?” Foggy sounded close to panic at the thought. Claire thought he must be one of the guys who could dish it out, but not take it, and took mercy on him.
“No, probably not. But just in case, cut him loose and roll him over onto that side so he doesn’t choke.”
“Uh … okay.”
Claire pulled out the scissors she’d just packed away. “Here, use these if you need to. With the way we’ve restrained him, he shouldn’t be able to hit you. Much.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can. Hopefully it won’t take too long at this time of night.”
“Do you need someone to go with you?” Foggy checked his watch. ”It’s only, uh, three a.m. on a Saturday morning, we can call Karen. Why should she get to sleep when we don’t?”
Claire shook her head. “I’ll be all right. Just … watch over Matt.”
“I always do,” Foggy said. “Well, as much as he lets me.”
And then Claire did smile, despite the pain. “Yeah,” she said with a knowing nod. “Yeah.”
Go to Part 4