The Chosen

'You should be in bed now, young man,' the other nurse said. I went back up the aisle and got into my bed.

The ward was quiet. After a while I fell asleep.

The windows were bright with sunlight. I lay in the bed a while, staring at the windows. Then I remembered it was Friday, and I sat up quickly. I heard someone say, 'Good to see you again, Bobby boy. How've you been?' and I turned, and there was Mr Savo, lying on his pillow, the curtains no longer drawn around his bed. His long, stubbed face looked pale, and he wore a thick bandage over his right eye in place of the black patch. But he was grinning at me broadly, and I saw him wink his left eye.

'Had a bad night, kid. Comes from playing ball. Never could see anything in chasing a ball around.'

'It's wonderful to see you again, Mr Savo!'

'Yeah, kid. Been quite a trip. Gave the Doc a real scare.'

'You had Billy and me worried, too, Mr Savo.' I turned to look at Billy. I saw the curtains had been pulled back from his bed. Billy was gone.

'Took him out about two hours ago, kid. Big day for him. Good little kid. Lots of guts. Got to give him that three-rounder one day.'

I stared at Billy's empty bed.

'I got to take it real easy, kid. Can't do too much talking. Have the old ring post down on my back.'

He closed his eye and lay still.

When I prayed that morning it was all for Billy, every word. I kept seeing his face and vacant eyes. I didn't eat much breakfast. Soon it was ten o'clock, and Mrs Carpenter came to get me. Mr Savo lay very still in his bed, his eye closed.

The examination room was down the hall, a few doors away from the elevator. Its walls and ceiling were white, its floor was covered with squares of light and dark brown tile. There was a black leather chair over against one of the walls and instrument cabinets everywhere. A white examination table stood to the left of the chair. Attached to the floor at the right of the chair was a large, stubby-looking metal rod with a horizontal metal arm. Some kind of optical instrument formed part of the end of this metal arm.

Dr Snydman was in the room, waiting for me. He looked tired.

He smiled but didn't say anything. Mrs Carpenter motioned me onto the examination table. Dr Snydham came over and began to take the bandage off. I looked up at him out of my right eye. His hands worked very fast, and I could see the hairs on his fingers.

'Now, son, listen to me,' Dr Snydman said. 'Your eye has been closed inside the bandage all the time. When the last bandage comes off, you may open it. We'll dim the light in here, so it won't hurt you.'

I was nervous, and I could feel myself sweating. 'Yes, sir,' I said.

Mrs Carpenter turned off some of the lights, and I felt the bandage come off the eye. I felt it before I knew it, because suddenly the eye was cold from the air.

'Now, open your eye slowly until you become accustomed to the light,' Dr Snydman said.

I did as he told me, and in a little while I was able to keep it open without difficulty. I could see now through both my eyes.

'We can have the lights now, nurse,' Dr Snydman said. I blinked as the new lights came on.

'Now we'll have a look,' Dr Snydman said, and bent down and peered at the eye through an instrument. After a while, he told me to close the eye, and he pressed down on the lid with one of his fingers.

'Does that hurt?' he asked.

'No, sir.'

'Let's have you on that chair now,' he said.

I sat on the chair, and he looked at the eye through the instrument attached to the metal rod. Finally, he straightened, swung the instrument back, and gave me a tired smile.

'Nurse, this young man can go home. I want to see him in my office in ten days.'

'Yes, Doctor,' Mrs Carpenter said.

Dr Snydman looked at me. 'Your father tells me you know about the scar tissue.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Well, I think you're going to be all right. I'm not absolutely certain, you understand, so I want to see you again in my office. But I think you'll be fine.'

I was so happy I felt myself begin to cry.

'You're a very lucky young man. Go home, and for heaven's sake keep your head away from baseballs.'

'Yes, sir. Thank you very much.'

'You're quite welcome.'

Outside in the hall, Mrs Carpenter said, 'We'll call your father right away. Isn't that wonderful news?'

'Yes, ma'am.'

'You're lucky, you know. Dr Snydman is a great surgeon.'

'I'm very grateful to him,' I said. 'Ma'am?'

'Yes?', 'Is Billy's operation over yet?'

MIs Carpenter looked at me. 'Why, yes, of course. It was Dr Snydman who operated.'

'Is he all right?'

'We hope for the best, young man. We always hope for the best. Come. We must call your father and get you ready to leave.'

Mr Savo was waiting for me. 'How'd it go, boy?' he asked.

'Dr Snydman says he thinks I'll be fine. I'm going home.'

Mr Savo grinned. 'That's the way to do it, boy. Can't make a career out of lying around in hospitals.' 1 'Are you going home soon, Mr Savo?'

'Sure, kid. Maybe in a couple of days or so. If I don't go catching any more balls from little Mickey.'

'Dr Snydman operated on Billy,' I said.

'Figured as much. Good man, the Doc. Got a big heart.'

'I hope Billy's all right.'

'He'll be okay, kid. Important thing is you're getting out.'

An orderly came over with my clothes, and I began to dress. I was very nervous, and my knees felt weak, After a while, I stood there, wearing the same clothes I had worn on Sunday for the ball game. It's been some week, I thought.

I sat on my bed, talking with Mr Savo, and couldn't eat any of my lunch. I was nervous and impatient for my father to come. Mr Savo told me to relax, I was spoiling his lunch. I sat there and waited. Finally, I saw my father coming quickly up the aisle, and I jumped to my feet. His face was beaming, and his eyes were misty. He kissed me on the forehead.

'So,' he said. 'The baseball player is ready to come home.'

'Did you hear what Dr Snydman said, abba?'

'The nurse told me on the telephone. Thank God!'

'Can we go home now, abba?'

'Of course. We will go home and have a wonderful Shabbat.

I will take your things from the table.' I looked at Mr Savo, who was sitting up on his bed, grinning at us. 'It was wonderful meeting you, Mr Savo.'

'Likewise, kid. Keep the old beanbag away from those baseballs.'

'I hope your eye gets better soon.'

'The eye's out, kid. They had to take it out. It was some clop. Didn't want the little blind kid to know, so kept it quiet.'

I'm awfully sorry to hear that, Mr Savo.'

'Sure, kid. Sure. That's the breaks. Should've been a priest. Lousy racket, boxing. Glad to be out of it. Wouldve been in the war if that guy hadn't clopped me in the head like that years back. Busted up something inside. That's the breaks.'

'Goodbye, Mr Savo.*

'Goodbye, kid. Good luck.'

I went out of the ward with my father, and out of the hospital.

Book Two

Silence is good everywhere, except in connexion with Tora

– The Zohar

Chapter 5

We took a cab and on the way home my father handed me my other pair of glasses with a warning not to read until Dr Syndman told me I could, and I put them on. The world jumped into focus and everything looked suddenly bright and fresh and clean, as it does on an early morning with the sun on the trees, and there was newness everywhere, a feeling that I had been away a long time in a dark place and was now returning home to sunlight.

We lived on the first floor of a three-story brownstone house that stood on a quiet street just off busy Lee Avenue. The brownstone row houses lined both sides of the street, and long, wide, stone stairways led from the sidewalks to the frosted-glass double doors of the entrances. Tall sycamores stood in front of the houses and their leaves threw cool shadows onto the paved ground. There was a gentle breeze and I could hear the leaves moving over my head.