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“Try wiggling your toes.”
Lula came down the ladder. “Can he wiggle his toes?”
“Yep.”
“Too bad he can’t see them. You know what else he can’t see?”
“Focus,” I said to Lula. “We need to get him into the car.”
“You gonna put him in your car naked? I don’t think that’s a good idea. He’s gonna have them little blue hydrangea flowers all stuck up his ass. You’ll get them all over your seat covers.”
“I might need an ambulance,” Stanley said.
“Hard to believe he could have broken something with all that padding he’s got,” Lula said.
“His face is kind of white,” I said to Lula. “Maybe he hit his head.”
“Yeah, I’m feeling faint,” Stanley said. “I’m not feeling good. I’m having a hard time breathing.”
I called 911 and asked for an EMT truck.
Lula looked down at him. “You should have told them to send one with a forklift.”
“He isn’t that big,” I said. “And he probably looks better with clothes on.”
“I’m cute with clothes on,” Stanley said. “I’ve been told I look cuddly.”
“I could see that,” Lula said, “now that you mention it. You do have that cuddly stuffed bear look to you.”
“Maybe we could get together when I get out of the hospital,” Stanley said.
I checked my watch. It was midmorning. This wasn’t the way I’d planned out my day. It was one thing to walk a simple skip through the process and collect my body receipt. It was a whole other deal to protect my property while it was left on a gurney in the emergency room. It could take hours. And then I had the further complication of either signing him into the lockdown ward at the hospital or shuttling him over to the police station. I’d be going through menopause by the time this was finalized.
“I don’t suppose you’d want to stay with him at the hospital,” I said to Lula.
“No way. Hospitals creep me out.”
The EMT truck backed up the driveway. The two guys got out and grimaced when they saw Stanley.
“He’s naked,” the one guy said. “How’d he get out here naked? Is he nuts?”
“Sort of,” I said. “He was sitting up on the roof, and he fell onto the hydrangea bush.”
“Can he wiggle his toes?”
“Yeah.”
“Can he wiggle anything else?”
“Are you gonna load him up or what?” Lula said. “On account of we haven’t got all day to be standing here.”
Ten minutes later, Stanley was in the truck.
“Are you going with him?” the EMT asked me.
“No,” I said. “I’ll call his mother and let her know.”
“Not my mother,” Stanley yelled from the truck.
