Часть 3

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The people beyond the beds immediately to my right and left were blurs, and I could not make them out. Nor could I make out much of the rest of the room, except to see that, it had two long rows of beds and a wide middle aisle, and that it was clearly a hospital ward. I touched the bump on my forehead. It had receded considerably but was still very sore. I looked at the sun coming up the windows. All up and down the ward people were talking to each other, but I was not interested in what they were saying. I was looking at the sun. It seemed strange to me now that it should be so bright. The ball game had ended shortly before six o'clock. Then there had been the ride in the cab, the time in the waiting and examination rooms, and the ride up in the elevator. I couldn't remember what had happened afterwards, but it couldn't all have happened so fast that it was now still Sunday afternoon. I thought of asking the man to my left what day it was, but he seemed absorbed in his card game. The boy to my right hadn't moved at all. He lay quietly staring up at the ceiling, and I didn't want to disturb him.

I moved my wrist slowly. It still hurt. That Danny Saunders was a smart one, and I hated him. I wondered what he was thinking now. Probably gloating and bragging about the ball game to his friends. That miserable Hasid!

An orderly came slowly up the aisle, pushing a metal table piled high with food trays. There was a stir in the ward as people sat up in their beds. I watched him hand out the trays and heard the clinking of silverware. The man on my left scooped up the cards and put them on the table between our beds.

'Chop-chop, ' he said, smiling at me. 'Time for the old feed bag. They don't make it like in training camp, though. Nothing like eating in training camp. Work up a sweat, eat real careful on account of watching the weight, but eat real good. What's the menu, Doc? '

The orderly grinned at him. 'Be right with you, Killer. ' He was still three beds away.

The boy in the bed to my right moved his head slightly and put his hands down on top of his blanket. He blinked his eyes and lay still, staring up at the ceiling.

The orderly stopped at the foot of his bed and took a tray from the table.

'How you doing, Billy? '

The boy's eyes sought out the direction from which the orderly's voice had come.

'Fine, ' he said softly, very softly, and began to sit up.

The orderly came around to the side of the bed with a tray of food, but the boy kept staring in the direction from which the orderly's voice had come I looked at the boy and saw that he was blind.

'It's chicken, Billy, ' the orderly said. 'Peas and carrots, potatoes, real hot vegetable soup. and applesauce. '.

'Chicken! ' the man to my left said. 'Who can do a ten-rounder on chicken? '

'You doing a ten-rounder tonight, Killer? ' the orderly asked pleasantly.

'Chicken! ' the man to my left said again, but he was smiling broadly.

'You all set, Billy? ' the orderly asked.

'I'm fine, ' the boy said. He fumbled about for the silverware, found the knife and fork, and commenced eating.

I saw the nurse come up the aisle and stop at my bed, 'Hello, young man. Are we still hungry? '

'Yes, ma'am. '

'That's good. Your father said to tell you this is a kosher hospital, and you are to eat everything. '

'Yes. ma'am. Thank you. '

'How does your head feel? '

'It feals fine, ma'am. '

'No pain? '

'That's very good. We won't ask you to sit up, though. Not just yet. We'll raise the bed up a bit and you can lean back against the pillow. '

I saw her bend down. From the motions of her shoulders, I could see she was turning something set into the foot of the bed. I felt the bed begin to rise.

'Is that comfortable? ' she asked me.

'Yes, ma'am. Thank you very much. '.

She went to the night table between my bed and the bed to my right and opened a drawer. 'Your father asked that we give you this: She was holding a small, black skullcap in her hand.

'Thank you, ma'am. '

I took the skullcap and put it on. 'Enjoy your meal, ' she said, smiling.

'Thank you very much, ' I said. I had been concerned about eating. I wondered when my father had been to the hospital and why he wasn't here now.

'Mrs Carpenter, ' the man to my left said, 'how come chicken again? '

The nurse looked at him sternly. 'Mr Savo, please behave yourself. '

'Yes, ma'am, ' the man said, feigning fright.

'Mr Savo, you are a poor example to your young neighbours. ' She turned quickly and went away.

'Tough as a ring post, ' Mr Savo said, grinning at me. 'But a great heart. '

The orderly put the food tray on his bed, and he began eating ravenously. While chewing on a bone, he looked at me and winked his good eye. 'Good food. Not enough zip, but that's the kosher bit for you. Love to kid them along. Keeps them on their toes like a good fighter. '

'Mr Savo, sir? '

'Yeah, kid? '

'What day is today? '

He took the chicken bone out of his mouth. 'It's Monday. '

'Monday, June fifth? '

'That's right, kid. '

'I slept a long time, ' I said quietly.

'You were out like a light, boy. Had us all in a sweat. ' He put the chicken bone back in his mouth. 'Some clop that must've been, ' he said, chewing on the bone.

I decided it would be polite to introduce myself. 'My name is Reuven Malter. '

His lips smiled at me from around the chicken bone in his mouth. 'Good to meet you, Reu-Reu-how's that again? '

'Reuven – Robert Malter. '

'Good to meet you, Bobby boy. ' He took the chicken bone from his mouth, inspected it, then dropped it onto the tray. 'You always eat with a hat on? '

'Yes, sir. '

'What's that, '

'Always like kids that hold to their religion. Important thing, religion. Wouldn't mind some of it in the ring. Tough place, the ring. Tony Savo's my name. '

'Are you a professional prizefighter? '

'That's right, Bobby boy. I'm a prelim man. Could've been on top if that guy hadn't clopped me with that right the way he did. Flattened me for a month. Manager lost faith. Lousy manager. Tough racket, the ring. Good food, eh? '

'Yes, sir. '

'Not like in training camp, though. Nothing like eating in training camp. '

'Are you feeling better now? ' I heard the blind boy ask me, and I turned to look at him. He had finished eating and was sitting looking in my direction. His eyes were wide open and a pale blue.

'I'm a lot better, ' I told him. 'My head doesn't hurt. '

'We were all very worried about you. '

I didn't know what to say to that. I thought I would just nod and smile, but I knew he wouldn't see it. I didn't know what to say or do; so I kept silent.

'My name's Billy, ' the blind boy said.

The Chosen

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Chaim Potok

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