— I’m sure I would Mister Bast yes, yes we won’t be long now… and his hand dropped from wiping the inside of the glass before him to lift away the foot renewing its errant threat to join his on the accelerator, rose to wipe again where the bursts of passing lights became more frequent, gave way finally to the sheltered giare of the tunnel, the open glows of green’s consent and red alerts in BAR, DRY CLEANING, EAT, EMERGENCY — yes here we oh…! where the glass doors hung still behind his haste through them as though content to reflect the novelty of the fender crumpled in his fervor of arrival until they were swept wide on the pursuit of a wheelchair — wait yes I think he’s still asleep, here let me…
— No I can lift him he don’t weigh nothing, just get the blanket… and the doors outside returned to their diversion, inside deflected — he go to admissions?
— Where the trees…
— He wha’d he say?
— He, no no I think that won’t be necessary I just arranged his admission with Miss, Miss…?
— Is this the new boy? He’ll have to tell me all about it…
— I don’t think he can he’s quite feverish, he became incoherent on the way in he’s been using language I’m sure he never…
— Don’t worry he can’t shock me I just came here from working at a public school, oh this man in intensive care you just asked about, this Mister Angel? They said his condition’s unchanged, this bullet entered beside the eye it’s lodged in the brain if you want to stay awhile maybe they…
— No I can’t no I have to get over to the nineteenth precinct if he should, if his condition should change they should be notified immediately and, Mister Bast? Goodnight I have to leave, I’ll look in tomorrow perhaps we’ll have a clearer picture of things…
— Off we go, Mister Bast is it? We’re going for a little ride…
— Walk out drive in.
— Yes we’ll get those wet things off and something to help us sleep won’t we, Joe? Tell the doctor room three nineteen you better see about an oxygen tent too just in case… and the wheels spun through bull’s eye doors for the lull of an elevator, down corridors of greens unknown in nature. — Here we are…
— Where the trees.
— Silly there aren’t any trees… only the flurry of hands and sheets, the rattle of carts and trays and finally of a shade coming down on the glow at a wall socket indifferently exchanging day for night, night for day.
— I’m telling you this place is a dream after where I was at, did I ever tell you what was…
— Wait, hello…? He’s in three nineteen yes wait here’s Miss Waddams she can…
— Hello…? Oh hi… last night yeah but I just went on days this morning, he’s coming along fine he didn’t even wake up since you… now? with him? No we got him in a tent he’s not even… no an oxygen tent Mister Coen he’s got enough trouble breathing already without trying to talk on the tele… I know yeah he really hit the jackpot double pneumonia nervous exhaus… what? Malnutrition yeah I don’t know a couple of days maybe, they always worry about complications with this you know? So how’s your other patient… No I mean your friend they got here in the intensive care… You really got your hands full haven’t you Mister Coen… I sure will Mis… you bet Mister Coen goodbye, anyway this place is a dream after where I was at…
— No lunch for three nineteen either?
— No he’s on iv maybe I better go check him now, don’t go away wait till I tell you what they found stopping up the junior high plumbing… and she came hedged by that despair of color down the corridor to weigh in green’s arrest OXYGEN NO SMOKING with a shoulder and search a pulse among whites left sallow with her steps away in the wall socket glow’s indifference day to night, night to day.
— Anyway like what I was telling you yesterday can you imagine that back when you were in junior high? I’m telling you this place is wait, hello…? Oh hi Mister Coen? It’s me yeah he’s coming along fine he still didn’t really wake up since you… no I mean just for tests and all but he’s still on the… no but even if you have these important matters to discuss with him he couldn’t even… I sure will Mister Coen so how’s your other patients you really got your hands full haven’t you you must be… you bet Mister Coen goodbye. I better go check him don’t go away I didn’t even tell you where we had this kid that was always sticking people up with a cap pistol… and she was down the corridor shouldering in OXYGEN NO SMOKING, — how we feeling today Mister Bast…? flashing a light, searching a pulse — just take one day at a time… and leaving that one behind, undistinguished by the steady glow from the one that followed.
