Читать книгу The City Still Breathing - Matthew Heiti - Страница 10

4

Normando sits in one of those damned little gowns on the edge of the gurney, bare-ass except for his black socks. Bart sitting over there rubbing his chin and flipping through the charts. Normando staring out the window at the snow falling, first of the year. People clucking around out there – digging the winter clothes out, buying shovels, stringing up the tinsel, tossing salt all over the damned place – like they forget the first snow always melts. Same damned thing every year.

Bart finally lowers the paperwork and looks him in the eyes.

‘It’s spreading.’

Normando nods, already knowing this, feeling it inside these past few weeks, slow like peanut butter on bread.

‘We said that was probably going to be the case, but now that we know.’ He raises his eyebrows, letting that hang. ‘Have you told Pat yet?’

‘No.’

‘She should know.’

He goes to a drawer and opens it, shuffling through more papers, coming back and shoving something at him. ‘Take a look at these, then we’ll have you back in for a chat. All right?’

‘Right, Doc.’

The door half cocked, Bart turns back. ‘You still running that cart around downtown?’

‘Every damned day.’

‘Well, good. Good to get some fresh air.’ Bart waves his folder as he leaves, giving him one of those encouraging grins you save for the walking dead. ‘Lots of options, Norm.’

The door closing and him left with a handful of pamphlets. A pamphlet for every day of the damned year left.