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"This day just gets better and better," Marcus mumbled under his breath, so low Thomas was sure only he'd heard him.
When Marcus lifted the ice pack and raised his head, the orderly's face creased into a smile. He looked as pleased as if Marcus didn't have blood all over his jaw and shirtfront, his eye swollen shut, arm gripping his ribs as if he were holding his insides in.
"It is you!"
The nurse gave the orderly a sharp, admonishing look at the enthusiastic shout.
Immediately, he quieted with an apologetic look, clasping both hands over his mouth before he leaned over again, spoke in an exaggerated whisper through his fingers.
Perhaps in his late thirties, the man had lanky dark hair to his shoulders, combed back and held with a rubber band, eyes that were a trifle wide, and a mass of scar tissue around his left eye, which was hidden beneath a permanent patch.
Under his hospital smock, the man wore pressed jeans and a clean striped shirt. For some reason, his appearance gave Thomas the impression of a first grader setting out to school, carefully prepared by his mother.
"Your shoe's untied, Toby. "
This from an older black man who approached and immediately flanked Toby with the protective demeanor of a parent. Putting a hand on Toby's shoulder, he compelled the younger man to kneel and begin the apparent thoughtful challenge of tying his shoe. "It's Dodger," Toby repeated.
"I see that. How you doing? Never thought I'd see anyone nail that face of yours. " His face creasing into a well-used terrain of lines, the man reached out and shook Marcus' unoccupied hand. Since they were having to shake with the same side hand, Thomas noted it was more like they squeezed grips as long-time friends.
"They got lucky," Marcus said. "How're you doing, Owen?"
"He's head custodian," Toby said proudly. "Employee of the month. That looks like it hurts. " He straightened and reached out to touch. Thomas watched, intrigued as Marcus sat still, let Tobias place his fingers with an odd gentleness on his jaw below the laceration.
"I didn't know you two were out here. Last time we'd talked you were s
till in Boston. "
From the briefest flicker in Marcus' eyes, Thomas knew he was lying. And he understood why Marcus hadn't wanted to come to this hospital. From Owen's steady look, he apparently knew it was a lie as well.
"Yeah, well, this was better for Toby. Small town, everyone knows him. He does a good job here. "
"Mr. Stanton. " The nurse spoke. "The doctor will see you now, Exam One. Sorry, you have to stay. " She gestured to Thomas. "You can come in after awhile, but. . . "
"The doctor has to make sure you aren't the one who beat me up," Marcus finished, giving her an arch look. "Does this pussy look capable of beating anyone up?" The nurse, unfazed, arched a brow. "Well, seeing as all the blood on him appears to be yours, I'd say yes. " Her brows lowered. "But I'm here to tell you that I can whip your ass if you don't clean up your language and get yourself in Exam One before Dr.
Tillman decides to make you wait until tomorrow and goes to get herself a nice, well-deserved latte. "
Toby giggled. "She's nice, Marcus. Mean, but nice. Like you. Don't be messing with her. She'll tear you up. " As he rose, he patted Marcus' shoulder, then abruptly put both his arms around him, holding him. Thomas stiffened at the same time as Owen moved forward, but Toby held Marcus as if holding an egg. "I'm sorry," he said, and Thomas was amazed to hear the man muffle a sob. "Marcus. My friend. He's my friend. "
"Come on now, boy. Marcus has to get his face fixed up. " Owen's face was full of pain and regret.
Toby shook his head, grip tightening. "Better if he's ugly. Safer. " Though he could see Marcus was being gentle about extricating himself, Thomas could almost hear the vibration of his distress. He rose, intending to help, and suddenly Toby turned on him. "Did you hurt him, like Nurse thinks?" He shouted it, lunging at Thomas.
Thomas fell back, startled. Despite his injuries, Marcus was surprisingly quick, vaulting forward and catching Toby by the collar, hauling him back, though he let out a painful grunt.
"No, Toby. No. " He snapped it out through gritted teeth. "Thomas is like you. He takes care of me. He brought me to the hospital. He beat up the guys who hurt me.
Though he did take them by surprise," he added with grim humor. His face was white, strained lines around his mouth.
Thomas shot him a narrow look, but the teasing had fallen short. Owen was having a quick word with the nurse on duty, who was obviously getting a little concerned about Toby's agitated state.
"All of them? He beat up all of them? They're all gone?"
"Yes," Marcus said after a moment. Suddenly he looked tired and in desperate pain, for reasons that Thomas could tell had nothing to do with being beaten up tonight. "Now, go on back to work. There are people waiting for you to help them, okay?"
Toby nodded, his brow creased. He gripped the handle of the cart with both hands and pushed it on down the hall, stopping to look back once, his expression puzzled.
Then he turned the corner, disappearing.
