The Chosen

Содержание → Chapter 2 → Часть 4

Глава 2

Часть 4

'How are you, Billy? I'm Robert Malter. '

'Hello, Robert: Did you hurt your eye very badly? '

'Pretty badly. '

'You want to be careful about your eyes, Robert. ' I didn't know what to say to that, either.

'Robert's a grown-up name, isn't it? How old are you? '

'Fifteen. '

'That's grown up. '

'Call me Bobby, ' I said to him. 'I'm not really that grown up. '

'Bobby is a nice name. All right. I'll call you Bobby. '

I kept looking at him. He had such a beautiful face, a gentle face. His hands lay limply on the blanket, and his eyes stared at me vacantly.

'What kind of hair do you have, Bobby? Can you tell me what you look like? '.

'Sure. I have black hair and brown eyes, and a face like a million others you've seen – you've heard about. I'm about five foot six, and I've got a bump on my head and a bandaged left eye. '

He laughed with sudden delight. 'You're a nice person, ' he said warmly. 'You're nice like Mr Savo. '

Mr Savo looked over at us. He had finished eating and was holding the deck of cards in his hands. 'That's what I kept telling my manager. I'm a nice guy, I kept telling him. Is it my fault I got clopped? But he lost faith. Lousy manager. '

Billy stared in the direction of his voice. 'You'll he all right again, Mr Savo, ' he said earnestly. 'You'll be right back up there on top again. '

'Sure, Billy, ' Tony Savo said, looking at him. 'Old Tony'll make it up there again, '

'Then I'll come to your training camp and watch you practice and we'll have that three-rounder you promised me. '

'Sure, Billy: 'Mr Savo promised me a three-rounder after my operation, ' Billy explained to me eagerly, still staring in the direction of Tony Savo's voice.

'That's great, ' I said.

'It's a new kind of operation, ' Billy said, turning his face in my direction. 'My father explained it to me. They found out how to do it in the war. It'll he wonderful doing a three-rounder with you, Mr Savo. '- 'Sure, Billy. Sure. ' He was sitting up in his bed, looking at the boy and ignoring the deck of cards he held in his hands.

'It'll he wonderful to be able to see again, ' Billy said to me. 'I had an accident in the car once. My father was driving. It was a long time ago. It wasn't my father's fault, though. '

Mr Savo looked down at the deck of cards, then put it back on top of the night table.

I saw the orderly coming hack up the aisle to collect the food trays. 'Did you enjoy the meal? ' he asked Billy.

Billy turned his head in the direction of his voice. 'It was a fine meal. '

'How about you, Killer? '

'Chicken! ' Tony Savo said. 'What can be good about chicken? ' His voice was flat though now, and all the excitement was out of it.

'How come you left the bones· this time? ' the orderly asked, grinning.

'Who can do a ten-rounder on chicken? ' Tony Savo said. But he didn't seem to have his heart anymore in what he was saying. I saw him lie back on his pillow and stare up at the ceiling out of his left eye. Then he closed the eye and put his long hairy hands across his chest.

'We'll lower this for you, ' the orderly said to me after he took my tray. He bent down at the foot of the bed, and I felt the head of the bed go flat.

Billy lay back on his pillow. I turned my head and saw him lying there, his eyes open and staring up, his palms under his head, his elbows jutting outward. Then I looked beyond his bed and saw a man hurrying up the aisle, and when 'he came into focus I saw it was my father.

I almost cried out, but I held back and waited for him to come up to my bed. I saw he was carrying a package wrapped in newspapers. He had on his dark gray, striped, double-breasted suit and his gray hat. He looked thin and worn, and his face was pale. His eyes seemed red behind his steel-rimmed spectacles, as though he hadn't slept in a long time. He came quickly around to the left side of the bed and looked down at me and tried to smile. But the smile didn't come through at all.

'The hospital telephoned me a little while ago, ' he said, sounding a little out of breath. 'They told me you were awake. '

I started to sit up in the bed.

'No, ' he said. 'lie still. They told me you were not to sit up yet'

I lay back and looked up at him. He sat down on the edge of the bed and put the package down next to him. He took off his hat and put it on top of the package. His sparse gray hair lay uncombed on his head. That was unusual for my father. I never remembered him leaving the house without first carefully combing his hair.

'You slept almost a full day, ' he said, trying another smile. He had a soft voice, but it was a little husky now. 'How are you feeling, Reuven? '

'I feel fine now, ' I said.

'They told me you had a slight concussion. Your head does not hurt? '

'Mr Galanter called a few times today. He wanted to know how you were. I told him you were sleeping. '

'He's a wonderful man, Mr Galanter. '

'They told me you might sleep for a few days. They were surprised you woke so soon. '

'The ball hit me very hard. '

'Yes, ' he said. 'I heard all about the ball game. '

He seemed very tense, and I wondered why he was still worried. 'The nurse didn't say anything to me about my eye. ' I said. 'Is it all right? '

He looked at me queerly.

'Of course it is all right. Why should it not be all right? Dr Snydman operated on it, and he is a very big man. '

'He operated on my eye? ' It had never occured to me that I had been through an operation. 'What was wrong? Why did he have to operate? '

My father caught the fear in my voice.

'You will be all right now, ' he calmed me. 'There was a piece of glass in your eye and he had to get it out. Now you will be all right. '

'There was glass in my eye? '

My father nodded slowly. 'It was on the edge of the pupil. '

'And they took it out? '

'Dr Snydman took it out. They said he performed a miracle. ' But somehow my father did not look as though a miracle had been performed. He sat there, tense and upset.

'Is the eye all right now? ' I asked him.

'Of course it is all right. Why should it not be all right? '

'It's not all right, ' I said. 'I want you to tell me. '

'There is nothing to tell you. They told me it was all right. '

'Abba, please tell me what's the matter. '

He looked at me, and I heard him sigh. Then he began to cough, a deep, rasping cough that shook his frail body terribly. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and held it to his lips and coughed a long time. I lay tense in the bed, watching him. The coughing stopped. I heard him sigh again, and then he smiled at me. It was his old smile, the warm smile that turned up the corners of his thin lips and lighted his face…

'Reuven, Reuven, ' he said, smiling and shaking his head, 'I have never been good at hiding things from you, have I? '

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