Part 3 (1/2)
Rick grinned back. ”I've never been in a hurricane before.”
Rusty kept his eyes on the road. ”It's gonna be a big one all right. Just you wait.”
Geez, doesn't this guy have anything else to say? Rick turned to the view and decided to steer the subject away from the storm. ”So Rusty...how many people live here in Phillipsport?”
Rusty's eyes lit up, excited. ”Well...let's see...” His brow knitted as the unoiled wheels of thought turned in his brainpan. ”Last week Mrs. Twain had twins...and Mr. Lewis' brother-in-law is staying with them till April...”
”Yeah...” Rick coaxed him along. Rusty appeared to be in deep concentration. Rick waited, watching the deputy as he tallied up the population of Phillipsport in his head. Rick stifled an impending giggle. He was amazed that they let this guy carry a gun. His eyes dropped to the .38 that was strapped to Rusty's gun belt.
Finally Rusty smiled and looked at Rick. ”Five hundred and forty seven!” His face beamed with pride. His eyes sparkled.
Rick smiled and nodded. ”Does that include me?”
Deputy Rusty's brow knitted again as the mental wheels clicked another notch. It was amazing this guy even had a brain. After a moment's thought Rusty gave him the final count. ”Five hundred and forty eight!”
Rick laughed. Rusty looked confusedly at him, trying to figure out what was so funny.
Rick gazed back out the window and smiled. Five hundred and forty eight people was a good number. He'd probably hardly even know they were around.
There were so few of them that there would probably be n.o.body to hang out with on Sat.u.r.day nights.
As they drew closer to town Rick craned forward, peering through the pouring rain. The water sliding down the winds.h.i.+eld painted everything an uneven shade of gray. The tiny, brick buildings reeked of antiquity. None of the structures looked like they were built after 1900. Everything was of a quaint, Victorian style that made him feel like he had just been transported to a different time zone-like the sixteenth century.
Rusty pulled off the main highway onto the Coast Highway. Five hundred yards to the right, the turbulent ocean slammed onto the beach a few hundred feet from the thoroughfare and the storefront. The streets that bypa.s.sed the Coast Highway were narrow, jammed with tiny houses, some of which appeared to have been chopped into apartments. Fords and Chevy pickup trucks lined the street with cars and station wagons. There were few pedestrians out in this weather. Most of them were probably holed up in their ancient tenements in front of a roaring fire. Rick felt like leaping out of the car and running through the rain soaked streets, soaking up the history and becoming engraved in its essence. He could hardly wait to see the place he was staying at. ”This is great,” Rick whispered. He couldn't tear his eyes from the scene. The white, clapboard structures and old brick buildings were just too beautiful.
Rusty grinned and nodded. ”Yep! But you ain't seen nothing yet. The best part's up ahead.” He raised his chin and smirked at some unknown secret.
Rick grinned with him and wondered what could be better than this lovely little sea town with its Victorian style and character.
Dr. Jorgensen's home office was tucked on a small side street. The neighborhood was quaint, with huge trees stretching their branches over the street. Halloween decorations in the form of jack-o-lanterns and tacked up Universal movie monsters adorned the windows of every other house. Going inside Dr. Jorgensen's office reminded Rick of the family pract.i.tioner he went to as a child; the living room was now the waiting room, while the kitchen was the receptionist area and the bedrooms served as the examining rooms. Plastic jack-o-lanterns were placed strategically, their hollowed heads filled with paper wrapped sugary sweets for the younger patients. Paper skeletons decorated the receptionist area. Dr. Jorgensen emerged from the reception area with a friendly smile on his face. He welcomed Rick with the same genuine eagerness and kindness his doctor from childhood days had. Dr. Jorgensen looked to be in his early sixties. His features were kind, smoothly lined, his hair white and thick. His eyes were sea blue and danced with glee. It brought Rick to instant relaxation. He also looked ready to do business.
Dr. Jorgensen peered at Rick closely. ”Rusty radioed ahead and said you had been in an accident. From the looks of that scalp wound, it looks like you have, too. Let's get you in back here and have a look at ya.”
Once in the examining room, Dr. Jorgensen fussed over the superficial scalp wound. ”Pretty nasty lump on the noggin you got there. You feel dizzy?”
Rick shook his head.
”He was kinda dazed when I came upon him,” Rusty said. He had followed physician and patient to one of the rear examining rooms. ”Like he was in a light shock.” His face was still beaming, as if he was proud of himself for finding Rick. He probably thought he'd saved Rick's life.
After the scalp wound was cleaned, dressed and bandaged, Dr. Jorgensen went through the preliminaries. He s.h.i.+ned a penlight in Rick's eyes, examining the pupils intently. He clicked the light off and leaned back. ”Pupils appear normal. Not dilated.” He held up his hand in front of Rick, four fingers standing up. ”How many fingers do I got up?”
”Four.”
He flashed his forefinger up. ”How many now?”
”One.”
”And now?” Peace sign.
”Two.”
Dr. Jorgensen leaned forward, his features still showing concern, yet relaxing a bit. ”You seeing double at all?”
”No.”
”Lose consciousness at all?”
”No...I mean, I was kinda dazed for a minute.” Rick hoped that his injury wasn't that serious, and the treble in his voice reflected that. ”I never lost consciousness, but I did kind of zone out for awhile.”
”You feel sick to your stomach?”
”No.”
Dr. Jorgensen ran Rick through a thorough examination. ”Were you wearing a seat belt?” he asked, leaning forward as Rick lay down on the examining table at the physician's instructions. Rick had taken off his s.h.i.+rt minutes earlier at the doctors' instructions and after visually inspecting him, the physician now began prodding and probing his trunk with gentle fingers.
”Yes.”
”Feel bruised anywhere?”
”A little sore in places.”
”Here?” Dr. Jorgensen pressed slightly on Rick's right side and Rick winced.
”Yeah.”
”And here?” Now he pressed down slightly below Rick's right nipple.
”Ah! Yeah.” Rick winced again.
Dr. Jorgensen continued along the line that the lateral seat belt would have pressed against Rick's body, holding him in his seat as he was thrown forward from the accident. Rick felt pain all the way up his chest to the base of his left shoulder. Dr. Jorgensen continued his probing examination along Rick's stomach and lower abdomen, asking if there was any pain. There wasn't.
Dr. Jorgensen motioned for Rick to sit back up and then he examined his back. He ran his hands along the back of Rick's neck, asking Rick if there were any areas that hurt. There weren't. He told Rick to get up and follow him into the examining room across the hall and Rick did. The room was equipped with X-ray equipment and once those were taken, Dr. Jorgensen told him to put his s.h.i.+rt back on. ”I'm going to take a look at these,” he said, holding up the x-ray film in his hands, ”just to make sure, and then I'll be right back. You can wait in the other examining room if you want.”
They went to the first examining room where Rick had left his jacket and five minutes later Dr. Jorgensen came back out, smiling broadly. ”You seem to be okay, so I guess your skull isn't as bashed as you thought it was. No broken bones, no sign of internal injuries. The muscles along your chest and shoulder will get pretty sore, though. You got off pretty lucky there, partner. Just to be on the safe side, though, I'm going to prescribe a mild painkiller that contains a sedative. It'll make you drowsy, but it'll help your body cope with the shock to its system. You may not be feeling it now, but come morning your body is going to wake up feeling like it just went through the ringer. You can pick it up at Shelby's Drug Store.” He clapped Rusty on his broad shoulders. ”This big lug here will be more than happy to drive you over.”
”Of course I will. My favorite author can go anywhere he wants to!” Rusty rose and zipped up his raincoat.
Dr. Jorgensen turned to Rick with raised eyebrows. ”Author, huh? Novels?”
Rick nodded, trying hard not to blush. ”Horror novels.”
Dr. Jorgensen chuckled. ”Well I'll be. That's just great. I don't read much horror myself, but I do like science fiction.”
”Oh, Rick is the best,” Rusty said, as they walked down the hall to the waiting room. Dr. Jorgensen darted behind the reception area and scribbled out Rick's prescription while Rusty rattled on. ”He's so good he blows Stephen King away. I've read all four of his books.”
”Whoa, wait a minute Rusty,” Rick chuckled, putting his jacket on. ”Thanks for the praise and all, but Stephen King I ain't.”