What T Didn't Know - Part 1

Good morning, FFFs,

I hope you all had a good Christmas. I did. It was quiet, which was just fine. Everything has been so crazy and busy this month that this week has seemed extra nice since it was quiet and relaxed. I've finally been able to get in some Christmas reading! Yay! Of course I still have more unread Christmas books on my kindle, but I'm afraid some of them will have to wait until next year. But I do plan to keep working on them at least until Monday.  Now that Christmas is over, I'm ready to get things cleaned up, organized, and ready for the new year. Do you like to organize things at the start of a new year?

I hope you enjoyed the few extra times I posted this month. I was going to post more, but as you may have noticed, that didn't happen. Oh well. And I didn't write much this month either! I wrote 333 words on the 3rd and that's the last time I've written. But oh, I'm eager to get back to it!

Today's story is the first part of an 8 part New Year's story. Yes, I do know that New Year's will be long gone by the time we finish this, but what else could I do? I had thought of just publishing it, but I don't have a cover designed, I don't have a synopsis, and I'd have nothing to post on my blog. :) So I hope you enjoy it.

What T Didn’t Know

Part 1

    Tommy lifted a heavy hand and pushed at the thing on his head. At least he thought he lifted his hand, but the thing, whatever it was, didn’t move. He tried to muffle a soft groan, not wanting Diego to come running.

    “He’s coming around a bit,” a strange woman’s voice said softly.

    “Yes,” a man agreed.

    Tommy didn’t recognize either voice and wondered who they were talking about. He wanted to ask, but his head ached, and his mouth and throat were dry. With another feeble effort, he again attempted to push the thing off his head. This time he felt his hand on his face, but another hand took hold of his arm and gently lowered it down again.

    “Just let that bandage on your head alone, sonny,” the deep, quiet voice of the man said.

    Fingers rested lightly on Tommy’s wrist, and he forced his eyes to open a crack. The light shot blinding pain through his head, and he gave a sudden moan.

    “There now, just take things easy, son. Don’t try to move just yet. Nurse Wilson, shut those blinds a bit more, if you please.”

    A nurse. That was queer, Tommy thought. What was a nurse doing in his little shack? And why was his bed so soft? Where was Diego? His senses started returning as he lay still. There were different smells than usual. And things were quiet. Nothing was ever this quiet, even in the middle of the night. He wanted to find out what was going on, but he couldn’t ask.

    “Try opening your eyes again, son, and see if the pain is better.”

    Tommy obeyed and found it didn’t hurt quite as much. No, he was certainly not at home in his own little shack tucked between the McGuires and the Schlinders. But it wasn’t a hospital either. He’d been in one of those before. Slowly his eyes traveled around the dim room with its clean walls, its framed pictures, and–he squinted at something across the room–yes, it was a mirror. It wasn’t cracked, and it wasn’t small. He thought Sassy would like to see it. Pulling his gaze away from it at last, Tommy saw a woman in white standing near one side of his bed. That must be the nurse, he decided, though he was still puzzled over why a nurse should be in his room, which wasn’t really his room at all. It was too much effort to think, and he almost let his eyes close again when a slight movement drew his gaze to the other side of his bed. There they fastened on the face of a man. A man with a dark mustache and dark hair. It was a face Tommy had never seen before.

    “Feeling a little better now, are you, lad?” The man asked. He smiled and added, “Want a drink?”

    In spite of the ache in his head, Tommy managed a faint nod. He was terribly thirsty. He made a move as if to push himself up, but hands rested on his shoulders and held him firmly in bed.

    “Don’t try to move. Nurse Wilson is quite capable of bringing the drink to you.” There was a hint of amusement in the man’s voice.

    Tommy didn’t know what the joke was, but he opened his lips and eagerly swallowed the cool water that slipped between his teeth from the spoon the nurse held. It tasted better than any lemonade or even the soda water Dickie Braun had given him last summer. He opened his mouth again and swallowed a second spoonful. A few more swallows followed.

    “That’s enough for now,” the man said. “You can have more later.”

    Tommy looked at the man’s face again. Even in the dim light it looked kind. Perhaps he would ask him where he was.

    “Can you tell us your name, sonny?”

    Of course he could. That was an awfully silly question to ask. But Tommy didn’t tell his name. Instead his eyes closed and he slept.

    “Well, he can tell us his name later,” the man said softly, rising from the chair where he had been seated. “Poor little chap. But I must be off again. Keep an eye on him for me, Nellie.”

    “Of course. But I feel that I should be going to the hospital to help too, Daniel.”

    “Not now. You’d wear yourself out. We have enough help, thank God. You stay here and take care of our young patient. I’ll be home again as soon as I can. Call the hospital if you need me.”

*

    When Tommy again awoke, he lay still, his eyes still closed. Everything was hushed and quiet. No traffic could be heard, which Tommy thought was very odd. Something pressed against his left arm and it ached. “Diego,” Tommy murmured without opening his eyes. But when there was no answering whine or pad of feet, Tommy called a bit louder, “Diego!”

    “Shhh, there lad. Everything’s going to be all right.”

    This time Tommy did open his eyes. A faint light came through the drawn curtains. Memories of his last time awake came to him and he frowned.

    “Does something hurt, sonny?”

    That voice. Tommy turned his head slightly and saw the kind face of the man beside him. He felt fingers on his wrist and tried to move his left arm, but a cry of pain escaped before he could stop it.

    “Here, just keep that arm still. I know it hurts. You broke it pretty badly.”

    “Broke it?” Tommy echoed in a daze.

    The man smiled. “Yes, sir. You broke it in three places, fractured a rib, and got a nasty cut on your head. But you’ll mend. Will you tell me what your name is?”

    “Tommy.”

    “Tommy what?”

    “Just Tommy.”

    “Well, Just Tommy, I’m Dr. Hall. Where do you live? Do you have any folks we can notify of your injuries?”

How was your Christmas?

Have you had a busy or relaxing week?

What do you think of this new story?