Читать книгу Triple Double - James Lewis - Страница 20

*****

Isabel had been skiing at Schweitzer Basin over in Idaho when the accident occurred. She was about to sit down on the chairlift when a boy standing next to her slipped, causing Isabel’s ski to turn. Down she went, twisting her foot 180 degrees as the chair banged into her and her riding partner. It was a serious accident. Within five hours Isabel Davis was on the operating table having two of her ankle bones fastened back together with plates and metal screws.

Just out of recovery, Izzy was rolled into her own hospital room that looked more like a New Year Eve’s celebration. Her parents and a dozen of her friends were waiting for the patient. Isabel was reminded that today was her birthday. Fortunately for her, one week later, school could continue with the use of the internet and her parents. Isabel’s retired mom and dad lived less than a half mile from her apartment. Unfortunately, she couldn’t work for a while. The two bartending gigs were here first love, her sanity outlet. Izzy was a people person. Her recovery had afforded her more idle time than she was used to. Settling into a routine with her close friends, the crutches, Izzy started each morning with a cup of coffee and time on the internet. At the beginning of the third week of her rehab, she was perusing the local news when she read “Spokane officer seriously injured while investigating a crime scene near Rose Lake, Idaho.” Reading further, “Deputy Abron Kelsey was beaten and shot. Listed in critical condition at a Spokane-area hospital. No further details available at this time, pending investigation.”

Isabel’s mom was hit with a call, in seconds. She didn’t know what to think. Isabel had never been as interested in seeing someone, especially “right this minute”—“Please, Mom, let’s leave for the hospital as soon as you and Dad can pick me up.” With snow still on the roadway, Isabel’s father drove all three to the hospital. Isabel asked at the desk labeled “Information” about Abron.

“No visitors allowed,” she was told. “Officer Kelsey has an armed guard day and night.”

Isabel then asked, “Is he out of surgery? Is he awake? Can he speak? Can he walk?”

The hospital employee in charge of the front desk explained, “Unless you’re immediate family or law enforcement, no admittance, no details.”

A man’s voice, behind Izzy and her parents, asked, “Aren’t you Izzy the bartender out at Bumps?” Isabel turned to see Ron Rowe smiling at her. “Hey, we’ve missed you, but it’s obvious you can’t bartend on those crutches.”

Izzy interrupted. “Is he okay? Can I see Abron? Can you get me into his room?” she asked.

“Are you carrying any concealed weapons? You were pretty tough on him the last time we all saw you.”

Izzy blushed. For the first time, her mom and dad understood. “Isabel,” said Ron, “he’s in pretty rough shape—swollen, discolored. He has metal screws in his head that hold a cage built to keep his neck from moving. I can get you in, but it’s not pretty.”

“I don’t care about that. I want to see him and him see me.”