Pamela O’Malley passed by just then, with a few friends walking so close it was a wonder they didn’t trip over one another’s feet. “Hey, Antsy,” she said, “how come you’re eating alone?”
The Schwa gave me that “some people” look.
“Maybe I like it that way,” I said. She twittered with her friends and walked off.
“It’s okay,” the Schwa said. “Who needs to be seen when you can be felt?”
11. The Youngest Doctor in Sheepshead Bay Gets Held Hostage When He Least Expects It
Being felt.
That means a lot of things, doesn’t it? And I’m not talking about the dirty stuff you probably think I mean. My mind isn’t in the sewer all the time, all right? I’m talking about having your presence felt. In that way, I guess I’m not all that different from the Schwa.
Now I had made my presence felt in my own family by refusing to be the peacekeeper. If that was a good thing, it sure didn’t feel like it. The problem is, once you’ve made yourself felt, there’s no going back to being unnoticed, as much as you might want to. Instead of ignoring me, Frankie was suddenly noticing every little thing I did, wondering why I did it. Christina started asking me questions about things, like I was the smarter brother. Dad was now confiding in me about things that were really none of my business, and Mom started treating me like I was actually a responsible human being. It was all very disturbing.
“There’s no future in plastic,” Dad said to me one day out of the blue.
“Sure there is,” I told him. “People will always need a plastic something or other.”
“We can only hope,” he said.
“What does Mom think?”
“Mom doesn’t work for Pisher.”
I was fishing for news from the battlefront, but he gave me none. The battlefront had become more like a demilitarized zone. They kept this chilly emotional distance. I think I liked it better when they fought.
The thing is, Dad might have built Manny to be indestructible, but he himself was not. Neither was Mom. This was a stress test I wished would just end.
I didn’t know what I’d say to Lexie. I was sure to run into her at Crawley’s apartment eventually, but I hoped maybe she would just leave the room and pretend she didn’t know I was there until I had leashed up the dogs and left.
I wasn’t so lucky.
A week after being replaced by the Schwa as her official escort, Lexie herself came to answer the door. She pulled it open wide, letting out four dogs, three of which nuzzled me for affection, but the fourth one, Prudence—who was always a loose cannon—bolted, and headed straight down the stairs. Not the back stairs we always take to get out, the grand staircase that led right down to the middle of the restaurant, where people were eating an early dinner.
“Great,” I said. “She’ll probably pull a lobster right off of someone’s plate.”
“I need your help,” Lexie said. At first I thought she meant to get the dog, but then I heard Crawley shouting and groaning from inside the apartment, over the sound of barking. Lexie’s voice was all warbly, and I could tell she was panicked. “He fell in the shower,” she said. “I think he might have broken his hip again.”
I stepped in, closing the door behind me. Let the waiters deal with Prudence, they were probably used to it. “Did you call 911?”
“They’re sending an ambulance, but he won’t let me near him. He won’t tell me anything. I don’t know what to do.”
I tried to hurry back to the master bathroom with her, but she couldn’t hurry. She moved slowly, and methodically, never bumping into anything, but never quickening her pace. It was the first time I’d ever seen her handicap be a hindrance.
Crawley was sprawled on the shower floor, clutching a towel over himself.
“Get out!” he said when he saw me.
“There’s an ambulance on its way,” I told him.
“I don’t need an ambulance. Just leave me alone.”
It was terrible to see him like this. He had always been such a powerful presence, even in his wheelchair. Kind of like Roosevelt, you know? But lying there on the floor, twisted in that awkward position, he seemed frail and helpless. I reached over to help him shift into a more comfortable position, but he swatted my hand away. “Get your lousy hands away from me, you dumb guinea!”
Whoa.
He had called me lots of things, but never the G-word. I didn’t know what to make of it, but now wasn’t a time I could really get angry. He tried to move by himself, and yowled in pain, letting loose a whole dictionary of cusswords.
Lexie, standing at the door, grimaced. “What happened? Did he fall again? Tell me, Anthony! Tell me everything that’s happening.”
“Nothing’s happening. He tried to move, but couldn’t.”
“Is he bleeding?”
“No.”
Then she hit her eyes with her palms and grunted. It was weird, but I knew exactly why she did it. It was frustration at her own blindness. She was smooth and confident when the world cooperated, but accidents were almost as uncooperative as her grandfather. “Isn’t there something we can do?”
Yes, there was. I went over to the medicine chest and opened it to reveal a whole pharmacy of medication. I quickly scanned the labels.
“What are you doing now?” Crawley asked.
“You need something for pain, and an anti-inflamatory,” I told him. I knew about that from the injuries we’ve had in my own family.
“So you’re my doctor now?”
“Yeah, Dr. DumGuinea, and I’m sending you one helluva bill.” I found what I was looking for, checked the labels for dosage and expiration date, and pulled out a pill from two different vials. Then I filled a glass with water from the sink and cautiously approached Crawley.
“What’s that?”
“Lodine and Vicodin,” I told him. “They prescribed these for you when you first broke your hip, right?”
“I don’t need it!” He pushed the glass away, spilling half the water on my shirtsleeve.
“Fine. Suit yourself.” I put the glass down on the counter with the pills, making sure he could see them. If he looked at them long enough, maybe he’d change his mind.
“They’re coming!” Lexie said. She heard the sirens long before I did. The last time I heard sirens here, it was the police coming for the Schwa and me.
When Crawley heard the approaching sirens, he groaned. “I don’t need this today!”
There was a knock at the door, and I hurried off to let in the paramedics. Instead, it was the Schwa, with an out-of-breath waiter holding Prudence by the collar.
“Hi, Antsy!” the Schwa said brightly, like this was the happiest place on Earth. “What’s up?”
“Don’t ask.”
I ran back to the bathroom, where Lexie still stood by the threshold, her grandfather yelling at her every time she tried to get closer.
“Anthony! Make her get out of here!”
“Lexie, maybe you should just go sit down—at least until he calms down.”
Exasperated, Lexie left for the living room.
“He’s lying on the floor,” the Schwa said, like I didn’t know.
“I’ll have those pills now,” Crawley said.
I handed him the pills and glass. “Careful, that Vicodin can be habit-forming.”
He gave me a nasty glare and took them.
The Schwa was trying to get up to speed, but not quite making it. “Uh—shouldn’t someone help him up?”
As if things weren’t crazy enough, when Lexie let the paramedics in, Prudence bolted again, followed by at least three other dogs.