No Joy...
Sean's coming home tomorrow. From the day I saw him off, I've been imagining going back to pick him up. Pacing in front of the gate. Checking and rechecking my watch. Shifting my weight from foot to foot, fidgeting from the time passengers start disembarking until I see him. Sometimes, I go to him. Sometimes I wait and let him come to me. Then I feel him warm and solid in my arms, kiss him deep enough to make him forget the horrors of flying.
I imagined everything. Except that he wouldn't want me there.
*click*
You've reached Bernard. I can't talk now, but leave a message if you want me to ring you back.
*beep*
Bernard? You there? It's...it's Karl. I'm sorry. So fucking sorry. I couldn't stop it. I tried but.... Christ, Bernard, Sean hit Viggo. Knocked him cold. I think Harry may have broken my fucking hand, so I can't really type.
Call me. Please.
*click*
ADMISSION FORM
Karningul Hospital, Emergency
6757 Imladris Green
Wellington
(555) 555-3336
To be completed by patient or patient's proxy.
Name
Family name: Urban
Given names: Karl
Address
13 Edoras Heights
Wellington
Telephone
Home: (555) 555-4278
Business: (555) 555-5596
Date of Birth: June 7, 1972
Ethnicity
Please select:
[_] European
[X] NZ European/Pakeha
[_] Chinese
[_] Indian
[_] NZ Maori
[_] Other Asian
[_] Pacific Island
[_] Other (please specify) __________
Contacts
Contact person: Miranda Otto
Relationship to them: Sister Friend
Address of contact if different from above:
1 Edoras Heights
Wellington
Contact phone numbers:
Home: (555) 555-7568
Business: (555) 555-5596
To be completed by admitting physician.
Admitted under the care of Doctor: J. Urgayle
Preliminary diagnosis
Dislocation of middle and ring fingers on left hand. X-ray reveals fractures on the fourth and fifth metacarpals.
Hand wrapped as patient resistant to having cast. Follow-up with personal physician encouraged in several days to reassess possible need for cast. Patient discharged.
*click*
It's Karl. If you wanted someone else, I can't help you there, mate. If you're looking for me, leave a message so I can phone you later.
*beep*
Karl, it's Miranda. Pick up the phone. Pick up the fucking phone Karl! *pause* Not home? Not home, not home, not home. Listen. Sean left a message on my machine, and Dave sent me an e-mail about what happened with Viggo. We need to talk Karl. Call me as soon as you get this. If I don't answer at home, try me on my cell.
*click*
[Sean] Hi. Viggo and I aren't available right now, but if you'd like to leave your name and number..."
[Viggo] No. Don't say *that*.
[Sean] ...we'll get back to you.
[Viggo] Wait. Hold on...
*beep*
Sean? Sean, please answer. Sean, pick up if you're there. Viggo? Dave? Somebody please just pick up the phone. Fuck!
*slam*
[Karl] Hello?
[Bernard] Karl, it's Bernard.
[Karl] Bernard, thank god.
[Bernard] I got your message, Karl. What's going on? Sean is in Wellington? He hit Viggo? Your hand?
[Karl] One at a time. Please. I've got a raging headache and my hand....
OK, from the beginning then. I went over to Viggo and Sean's like I promised. I had a bit more incentive, though, because when I got home, there was a message from Sean. He was so pissed off at me, Bernard. Went on about some pictures. Said they couldn't have taken themselves. I had no idea what he was going on about, but I figured Harry would. Dave tagged along.
[Bernard] David?
[Karl] Don't ask. He caught up with me, and I tried to shake him off, but he was more bloody tenacious than Orlando on a sugar rush.
[Bernard] Hmmm.... Go on.
[Karl] Turns out it was a good thing Dave did come. When we got there, Harry was over, and the first thing I did was pull him to the side to find out what was going on. Dave and Viggo kept themselves occupied.
[Bernard] Did you find anything out?
[Karl] Well, I asked about the pictures, and Harry just smiled and pulled something out of his wallet. Bernard, it was...a photo of him and Viggo and.... And they were...were....
[Bernard] Fucking?
[Karl] Yeah. Viggo was tied up. It was... Never mind. But I looked at it, and I couldn't imagine it happening. I mean Viggo has Sean, right?
[Bernard] Having someone keeps you from taking what other people offer you?
[Karl] That's not what I meant. *sigh* I meant that I can't see Viggo.... Harry doesn't seem his type.
[Bernard] No?
[Karl] No. I'd have an easier time believing if it were Dave in the pictures. Not Harry. So I looked Harry straight in the eyes and said, This isn't real. He smiled even brighter, and said, Doesn't matter if it's real, mate. Matters whether or not people believe it's real.
[Bernard] Hang on. You're saying he sent doctored photos to Sean? Why?
[Karl] Right when I ask him for clarification, there's a knock on the door, and Harry goes to answer it. Viggo is practically running from the kitchen, but Harry gets there first. Viggo slams into his back. Well, it's Sean at the door. Harry's eyes go wide, and he says Sean's name. Sean drops his bag and swings at Harry. Harry ducks, and Sean can't check his motion. He nails Viggo on the jaw, knocks him cold.
[Bernard] Oh, no.
[Karl] Oh, yes. Viggo hits the floor and his head makes this nasty thud. Sean's standing there in shock. Harry looks down at Viggo, then up at Sean, and says, Well done, mate.
[Bernard] You're joking, right?
[Karl] Does this sound like I'm joking. Believe me, I wish to god I were.
So Sean throws himself at Harry, knocks them both off their feet. They're beating the hell out of each other, and Dave and I have to wade in to try and stop them. Dave gets a good hold on Sean, who doesn't look particularly steady, and I can see Harry's going to clock Sean and he won't be able to stop the punch. As Harry swings, I bring up my hand to block it, and Harry plows into my hand.
I could feel the jolt of it to my shoulder, and then there was this wave of nausea and my hand started to go numb.
I grabbed Harry with my one good hand and hauled him out of the house. I yelled at him, but all I can remember at the end was just screaming, You broke my hand, you bastard. You broke my fucking hand. Harry stormed off, and I went to the emergency room.
[Bernard] And the hand?
[Karl] Two dislocated fingers and two light fractures in the hand bones. You know, the ones that go from your wrist to your fingers?
[Bernard] Karl, I don't think I need to tell you what sort of mess this has become. People had to go to the hospital. Reporters for The Herald will eat that story up if they get their hands on it. And Peter.... What do you think that Peter's likely to say about it?
[Karl] I know. Don't think that I don't fucking know.
[Bernard] Where's Harry?
[Karl] Don't know. He just drove off. Fucker just drove off and left me standing there.
[Bernard] Karl, is there something about Harry, something that--
[Karl] Listen, Bernard. I...have to go. I took some of the pain medication, and right now, I'm beginning to feel a bit loopy.
[Bernard] *sigh* I should let you go then. But Karl...?
[Karl] Yes?
[Bernard] Take care of yourself, Karl.
[Karl] I take it that is a royal command?
[Bernard] Of course.
[Karl] Then I'm honor bound to obey, lord.
[Bernard] Yes. You are. Now, get some rest.
[Karl] I will. Thanks for calling, Bernard.
*click*