The Tour

twelve / cleat chasers and hospital clout

The following day I walked up to the front door of the ICU and picked up the phone to buzz in, mentioning to the nurses' station that I was there to see Will Sanders. To my surprise, the response was out of the ordinary.

    "Oh honey, he's not here anymore."

    "He's not?"

    The woman's voice sounded cheerfully on the other side, "Nope, they moved him out of the ICU into the spinal cord ward on the fifth floor. You're welcome to go up there and ask to see him!"

    Placing the phone back on the wall I raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Sure enough, the new woman on the other side of the phone let me onto the ward, gesturing down the hall to his room.

    After finding room seven I gave a quick knock on the door. Normally I wouldn't bother, but the chance of walking into a random person's room increased when it was my first time there, and I wanted to avoid that if possible. Thankfully, Will's voice could be heard through the door.

    "Hey MTV, welcome to my crib!" He laughed as I entered the room, putting my backpack down at my feet as I took a seat in the chair next to him. I noticed that his wheelchair was placed on the right side of the bed, along with a short wooden plank resting against the wall.

    "I didn't even hear that you got moved out of the ICU, no one thought to tell me?" I gave him a quizzical look.

    "I figured the surprise would be more fun," he cracked a crooked grin, "and it was amusing, so I'd call it a win."

    "You saw your parents last night?"

    "Yeah, they were there when the doctor came in and told me that I was getting moved. They were really excited. I mean, I'm glad and all, but it's just another hospital room. It's not like I can move or anything, so the only nice thing is that it's quieter at night."

    "It's also nice that the doctors decided that you'll make it out with your life, so we'll take that too. Besides, you got yourself a nicer view now," I reasoned, trying to bring some light into the situation.

    "Yep, of the place that took my life away," he grimaced, leaning back onto the bed.

    As soon as he mentioned it, I realized that the window did look right out at Pipeline, the very break where he had his accident.

    "Geez, we should get you out of here. That's terrible, you shouldn't have to-"

    He looked back from the ceiling to me. "No, it's okay. I mean it's hard, but I need to face it eventually. And maybe I can see you surf from here," he cracked a sad smile as I shook my head, "River, I don't expect you to stop surfing just because I had an accident. Yeah, it stresses me out more to think about you out there every morning, but I know you love it. You'll be alright."

    I pursed my lips and nodded at him, fingers gripping my backpack as we looked out at the ocean for a minute.

"So, what do you have in the bag?" He asked, clearly looking for something to distract him.

"Uh, your coach dropped it off this morning. Evan told him that I could get it to you," trailed off, knowing that this would be about as uplifting as a view of Pipeline.

"And?" He questioned, looking slightly concerned at my lack of information.

I unzipped the bag, pulling out a brand new green sweatshirt. "The gear is in," I whispered, looking down at it.

By the time that I looked back at him, his eyes had filled with tears. He picked up the sweatshirt gingerly, followed by the baseball cap, jacket, and a multitude of t-shirts that were also stowed in the bag. "I have no reason to ever wear this again," he muttered.