When Mary Met Halley

Two

They moved Caleb a floor down, into a private room, and allowed me to sit in there beginning at seven-thirty. 

By nine I'd drank two Red Bulls and sneaked enough glances at the inert figure on the bed to have an idea of what he now looked like. The bruises had darkened and turned bright colors, making him actually look worse than he had the night before. There didn't seem to be any less tubes or wires. He twitched and moved a little occasionally, which I soon realized meant nothing.

He did not wake up.

Leif filled the doorway suddenly, beat-up skateboard in hand. They were technically identical, but so hugely different that it was almost hard to tell. 

"Hey, Tug." He pulled the other chair away from the wall and sat in it a few feet from me, producing a Red Bull from his black jacket pocket. He smelled like weed and cigarettes. Typical Leif. "You look like you need this," he said, avoiding the bed and his twin.

"Thanks," I said dryly, my back and shoulders aching. "You can look at him, you know." Though I would have given a lot if I could have protected him from doing so.

"Think anyone'll notice if I don't?" But he stood again and moved next to his brother's bed. "Fuck," he said after a few seconds, shaken. "Fuck."

I'd talked to the cop in charge of the case a few minutes before and gotten more details. "He was in front of an armored truck. Driver says he didn't even see him." I shrugged, sketched about the next part. "He got caught under the front and ended up between the truck and a wall at a light." I cracked the Red Bull and drank half in an attempt to maintain my composure. They'd only noticed because the man riding shotgun had seen Caleb's foot all twisted up the wall.

"Jesus fucking Christ." He ran his hand over his face and dyed black hair, making it stand up. He looked back at me with an expression I hadn't seen since we were being chased by bullies in middle school.

"C'mon," I said, heading out the door as I finished my drink and tossed it in a can. "He won't mind."

He followed and we went to sit in my car, not speaking on the way. I lit a cigarette and he lit a joint. "At least let me roll down the windows," I said, shaking my head. "Like I need my car smelling like weed."

He flipped me off because I smoked plenty myself, and offered it to me. We traded. "What's playing on head radio?" he asked.

I tuned in to the music that was always playing in my mind, which we called head radio. With our backs to the wall, the darkness will fall. Never quite thought we could lose it all. "Ready Aim Fire," I told him in a funny smoke-holding voice. I always had a song playing in my head, usually without even being aware of it.

"We do love Imagine Dragons." He blew smoke rings and put his worn black Converse up on the dashboard. "I fed your bird."

"Thanks." My back ached from my sleeping arrangements. Hopefully the cannabis would help. The song in my head continued playing. We don't have a choice to stay.

He yawned, making me yawn. "He sort of demanded it. You know how he is."

I did. "Surprised he hasn't found my car here."

"He left when I did." He held out the joint and we switched.

My mind was mush. "I hate hospitals."

"Gee, I wonder why." He shifted position. He was never comfortable. Caleb was always still when seated. "Go home and sleep. How many energy drinks have you had? I'll stay here."

"How many energy drinks have you had?" My eyes were gritty. "I should go by the house, check on the kids."

He made a rude noise and brought his feet back down to the floorboard with a bang. "They're fine. Your sister even fed the baby." He rolled his eyes. Black eyeliner defined them, making the blue brighter. "They know where my house is if they need something."