D-Day. Done-Day. Final day of inpatient rehab.
“Jailbreak!” Phoenix joked, standing among staff members bidding him farewell.
“Are we diggin’ a tunnel, crawling through ducts or shooting our way out?” Caleb asked, heaving two bags onto the wheelchair.
“Nah, nothing as hard as all that. Insurance has run out of money, so makes it easy to give me the boot.”
He pulled each nurse and then his therapist into an embrace. “Nadine, you taught me everything, and I would’ve never guessed I’d be standing here, leaving for home if you’d asked me all those months ago.”
“You deserve the best, really. Never saw someone work so hard to get out of here.”
“Stubborn, isn’t he?” Caleb asked.
“Compliments, compliments,” Phoenix interjected.
Nadine held out a wrapped parcel. “We put together some pictures of your time here. We thought you might want to remember how far you’ve come.”
Phoenix looked at the square package with skepticism. “Doesn’t sound like something I really want to remember.”
Caleb grabbed the gift. “Thanks,” he said gruffly. He shoved the album into an empty space in one bag.
Outside, Phoenix’scanefound steady ground in the shoveled pavement wet from a winter nor’easter. He’d convinced his mom to leave before the weather turned bitter. She’d be back soon enough for Thanksgiving.
Caleb loaded Phoenix’s car with his bags and chair, and Phoenix drove with one hand.
Directing the vehicle’s movement imparted a surprising feeling of possibility. The freedom to go anywhere at any time rolled ahead of them.
“Well, look at you,” Caleb said.
“You’re surprised I’m driving? Didn’t you tell me I could do anything I wanted?”
“Usually you’re too stubborn to listen to me.”
“I’ll work on that,” Phoenix said.
“Good,” Caleb said, ignoring the sarcasm, “because I’ve got a favor to ask.”
“Yeah?”
Caleb looked at him, one hand rubbing the snake imprinted on his thick neck. “I need you to come down to the station with me and show me what happened.”
“What?” The car swerved as his head jerked to glare at his twin, then he quickly adjusted the vehicle’s direction. “You want to go back to the station where my accident happened?”
“It’s on the way to your place anyway.”
“You want to go right now?”
“Why not?” He shrugged. “It might be good for you.”
“Good for me? You think reliving the worst thing that’s ever happened to me could be good for me?”
“Sorry.” Caleb glared through the windshield as Phoenix’s internal debate took another turn.
“Actually, there’s some crazy part of me that’s obsessed with going back. I see that guy, you know. In my dreams.”
“You know a guy called Peter Levine?” Caleb asked.
“No. Who’s he?”
