Descending Star

VENISON

Ben awoke and wondered how his bed had turned up in a luxury hotel's presidential suite. He looked up past the traction cables at recessed lights twelve feet above his head. Gym equipment occupied a space between the bed and a distant wall paneled in birdseye maple. The other two walls were shaded glass, from floor to ceiling, with retractable screens that shrowded a feeble, overcast sun. Ben lay on a gentle incline, and he looked out on a hazy green forest.

Charlie, at the corner junction of the two glass walls, had the same view. He noticed that Ben had awoken and muttered, "Lived here all my life and had no clue Forks Memorial had rooms like this."

Ben demanded, "What? We're in the hospital?"

"In a manner of speaking," Edythe replied, at his side.

He gave a shocked start, seeing her for the first time. She'd been sitting motionlessly beyond his shoulder, rigid with stress.

Carlisle had related, on their arrival, that the campus had three semi-detached recovery suites like this one, maintained for visiting dignitaries and seldom used. "It's not as wasteful as it appears," he had said. "The spaces are dual-use. When governors and congressmen aren't paying a mint for the privilege on the taxpayer dime, these spaces are fitted out as conference rooms."

Charlie had asked Carlisle, "How much am I paying for the privilege?"

Carlisle had winked and said, "On the house." He could never explain this to Ben's father, but the mortal boy had walked into certain death in defense of Edythe. In Carlisle's care, Benjamin Swan would want for nothing.

Charlie related this account to Ben in the process of announcing that he had to get back to the station, to see what he had missed since Friday. No doubt in his three day absence the good town of Forks had devolved into Crime Central. "Great to have you back, son," he said. "Don't you worry, Carlisle and these folks will have you back home in your own bed in no time."

Ben watched his father go. Now it was Edythe and himself in the enormous improvised conference room. He eyed the treadmill, benches and weight racks, and with trepidation he asked, "So, what now?"

Edythe easily replied, "Not much. You rest. You start P.T. tomorrow, but Carlisle promises it'll be low impact. The first goal is to get you off traction and out of the bed. He says they'll be shooting for Saturday."

On his feet in five days? He couldn't imagine it.

She nuzzled his cheeks, eye to eye, and she promised, "Don't you fret, Negative Nelly. We'll be going to our junior prom, after all, just you wait and see." An instant later, a doubtful frown clouded her happiness. "Umm, that's okay, isn't it?"

"I'm a dancer. I love to dance. I just think you're crazy to suggest it, that's all. It's in three weeks, and look at me."

She grinned and winked. "Alice stopped in L.A. on the way back. She brought a gown for me, and a tux for you."

He groaned with defeat. That settled it.

Edythe said, "Plus, I've brought all your homework. We've got school tomorrow. We've got Zoom set up so you can attend remote if you want, but all your teachers say attendance is optional. In case you have questions. Mr. Banner has waived all your labs. He assigned a paper instead."

"Great."

He blinked at the recessed lights in the high ceiling and whispered, "Back in Forks. So soon. I'm not entirely sure how that happened."

She had voted for informing him sooner, she said, but Carlisle had overruled on the grounds that it would exacerbate his anxiety.

"With any luck we can keep my return under wraps for a few days and have some time to ourselves. We have a lot to talk about, don't we?"