Virgil hung on at the counter, almost jogging in place out of anxiety, as the nurse went into the back and returned a minute later with a young doctor who was eating a sad-looking white bread sandwich.
“Mr. Flowers,” the doctor said, chewing and swallowing. “Florence and Sam will be out shortly. Florence has second-degree burns with blistering on her arms, upper back, and a spot on her left leg, as well as abrasions on her feet and small burns on one foot. I understand she ran barefooted across some sharp gravel, which is minor. For the burns, she’ll need to keep the bandages on for two weeks or so. Sam has second-degree burns on one of his arms and one side of his neck and also on both hands. His hands are somewhat more burned than his arm or neck, but he’ll be fine, there shouldn’t be any permanent scarring or disability. He also has abrasions on his feet. They’ll both be uncomfortable for a week or two. We’ll want to see them back here on Saturday, and then as needed. I’ve given Florence instructions on wound care, and she seems to understand.”
“She’s good at that. When can I go in…”
The doctor looked toward the door in the back: “They should be out in a minute or so. They’re both barefoot…why don’t you wait here, and I’ll check on the hold-up.”
“For God’s sake…”
Then Frankie walked out of the back carrying a paper sack, and when she saw Virgil, she began crying and Virgil stepped toward her and she fended him off and said, “No hugging for a while, let me hug you,” and she hugged him with her one unburnt arm and then Sam came out and said, “This sucks.”
They didn’t seem desperately injured and Virgil said, “The horses…”
“They’re in the big pasture, they might have some burns,” Frankie said. “It took us a few minutes to get them out, that’s how Sam burned his hands. If Sam hadn’t gone in the barn, they’d both be dead.”
Sam flapped his hands at Virgil: both palms were covered with bandages.
“Tell me…Honus…”
“Honus is fine, he’s in the house, now, he’s the one who got us up,” Frankie said. She handed him the sack and told him about the fire. “Fire is still there, keeping an eye on it. The stable’s gone…right down to the ground.”
“Fuck the stable, we can get another stable,” Virgil said. “I can’t get more people like you guys. What in the hell were you doing running into…”
Frankie, crying again, “What? You wanted our horses to burn to death?”
“No, no! I didn’t want you to burn to death, though. I mean…never mind,” and he reached out to hug Frankie again and she evadedhim again and said, “Don’t touch anything with bandages,” and he managed to wrap one arm around her shoulder and down her back and squeeze.
Sam said, “We both smelled gas. In the stable. I mean, gasoline, when we went in the stable.”
“Gasoline…” Virgil groped around the word for a few seconds, then: “In the stable?”
“There wasn’t any gas in the stable,” Frankie said. “Sam mowed the yard, but he put the mower and the gas can in the machine shed where they’re supposed to go, and they’re still there. But we both smelled gas.”
Virgil looked at the doctor, who was still hovering, and said, “Motherfucker…”
“What?”
“Not you. Somebody else,” Virgil said.
—
They stood talkingfor two or three more minutes, and Frankie told him that the sack contained pain-killing spray, and that they had prescriptions for pain-killing pills should they need them, then Virgil said to the doctor, “I’m going to put them in my truck, but I’d like to come back and talk for just a minute. I’ll be right back.”
Frankie and Sam could walk easily enough—they were wearing hospital slippers—and Virgil put them in the truck, and then went back inside where he said to the doctor, “I need to know how bad, and what’s next.”
“What I already told you—they hurt, but they’re not hurt bad. The biggest problem is avoiding infection, and we’ve given both Florence and Sam instructions on that. They’ve got what amounts to verysevere sunburns, but on parts of their bodies that don’t usually get sunburned. They both have some blistering, and skin will be peeling off, but they’re not in any danger if we can avoid infection…”
Virgil thanked him, went back outside, and in the truck, Frankie said, “We’ll have to move the big chair up the stairs into the bedroom for a while. I won’t be able to sleep on my back or side, and I’ll have to have my burned arm across my stomach in a sling or something…So I need something where I can sit upright and sleep.”
“We can do that. As soon as we get home. You need to rest. Sam, too.”
—
The sun wasup when they got back to the house. A different fire truck was on the scene, the first two had gone; this one a tanker, the two firemen spraying water on the smoldering remains of the stable.
Virgil led Frankie and Sam inside, where they were met by a relieved Honus, as well as the Nilssons.
“The twins are still asleep,” Jean Nilsson said. “I gave them cookies.”
