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Leon came running in not ten minutes later, still in his chef’s whites, his hair flying wild. My vision was clearing, so I got the full effect, and after the night I’d had, I couldn’t curb my reaction. I laughed and I laughed, then I laughed some more, laughed myself breathless while Leon stood frowning.
“If this is the thanks I get?—”
“Sorry, sorry.”
“I had to call half my crew in on golden time.”
I pinched myself hard to stifle my laughter, but then I spotted the jam on his neck. Fresh gales tore free, and Leon threw up his hands.
“You’re a shithead, you know that? I’m glad you’re alive.” He leaned down and hugged me, a quick, awkward squeeze. Then he gave me a smack on the meat of my bicep. “Don’t scare us like that.”
“I’m fine, I swear. Just kind of a headache.”
“You’re not fine yet,” said the doctor, striding up behind Leon. “But your CT looks good, and you seem to be making sense.” She held up two fingers. “How many?”
“Two,” I said. “And they’re looking less blurry.”
“Good. Can you count backwards for me, by sevens, from a hundred?”
I frowned, trying to focus. I’d always sucked at math. “Uh, one hundred… ninety-three. Eighty-six? Seventy-nine. Uh, sixty, uh, no. Seventy-two. Sorry, I’m bad at math.”
“No, that was fine.” The doctor set down her clipboard. “You’re okay to go home if you’ll have someone with you.”
“He’s got us,” said Izzy, and gripped Leon’s arm.
“Good. You’ll want to stick close to him for twenty-four hours. He can sleep if he wants to, but not on his own. Wake him up every hour or two and make sure he’s still lucid, and bring him straight back if his symptoms get worse — any dizziness, nausea, double vision, slurred speech. Anything looks off to you, you give me a call. But from what I’m seeing, what he needs most is rest.”
I rode home with Izzy, Leon following behind. The road whooshing by us made me feel sick, so I closed my eyes till I felt us pull up the drive. Izzy and Leon crowded in to support me, each grabbing an arm as I climbed out of her car. I tried to shake loose at first, but it didn’t seem worth it, and I let the two of them herd me inside. They started for my bedroom, but I shook my head.
“No, couch,” I said.
Leon’s grip tightened. “You’re not going to sleep?”
“Not yet.” I pulled away from him and hobbled through the kitchen. My leg didn’t hurt that bad, but it felt tight.
“You should rest,” said Izzy.
“I will, just… just on the couch.” I didn’t want to explain to her, sleep felt too risky, like a slope I could slide down and never come back. I’d lost whole chunks of time between my fall and right now, bits of my life carved out and gone. I’d heard one of the medics say no loss of consciousness, but if I hadn’t passed out, where had I gone? If I went there again, would I ever come back? No, I wouldn’t sleep till my head felt less blurry. Till I knew if I went out, I would be back.
“Movies,” I said, when Izzy still looked doubtful. “It’s just, uh, my leg hurts. I need a distraction.”
“All right,” said Leon, and steered me through to the living room. Izzy must’ve been watching me when I went down, in front of the TV with her beer and her snacks. She’d knocked over what looked like a whole bowl of pretzels. Leon set about cleaning them while Izzy fetched me a blanket. She draped it over me, though I wasn’t cold.
“I need to get back,” said Leon. “But we’ll take shifts, okay? You watch him till, uh, I’ll be home around three. Then I’ve got till morning, then?—”
“Then I’ll take off work.” Izzy sat down beside me and grabbed the remote. She started scrolling our DVR, and I felt my eyes blur. I closed them to rest them and let myself drift. Leon was lingering, not wanting to go, peppering Izzy with nervous advice — don’t let him eat too much. Don’t give him beer. There’s more blankets if you need them, a few in my room. Just call me, okay, if anything happens. If you need anything. If?—
I smiled, feeling warm. Izzy and Leon. How lucky was I to have found them in college? To have found them again when I moved back here? To have them here now fussing and picking, bugging the pants off me because they cared?
“I’m going,” said Leon, and still didn’t go. He didn’t leave till Izzy had picked out a movie, some old black-and-white thing she’d found God knows where. I squinted at it.
“What is this?”
“Attack of the Killer Shrews.”
I pulled a face. “What the hell is a shrew?”
“Funny enough to keep your mind off your leg, I hope.” Izzy pressed play, and the movie kicked on, B-horror soundtrack, jumpy screen, the whole bit. It was pretty funny, then really funny, and soon we were clutching each other, helpless with laughter. I pointed, still shaky.
