Free New Tricks by David Rosenfelt

word; I can’t say a word.
    “Your wife has come through the surgery. She has an anoxic brain injury, due to blood loss, and she remains in very critical
     condition. She is currently in a coma.”
    “Will she survive?” I manage.
    “We’ll have a better idea of that in forty-eight hours. She lost a great deal of blood. And you need to understand that survival
     is not the only issue.”
    “What does that mean?” I ask.
    “It is likely that her brain was deprived of sufficient blood for an undetermined period of time. There is the potential for
     injury.” He pauses, then adds, “Irreparable injury.”
    I find my voice and ask as many questions as I can think of, but I can’t get any more out of him, other than the fact that
     the shorter the coma, the better. It’s going to take time until we know more.
    He can see my frustration, and before he leaves, he says, “Mr. Carpenter, she’s alive. At this point, with what she’s been
     through, that’s saying a great deal, believe me.”
    I nod my understanding.
    “One step at a time,” he says. “One step at a time.”

I GO HOME to get some clothing and toiletries to bring back to the hospital.
    The front yard is cordoned off with police tape as a crime scene, and a squad car with two officers is in place guarding it.
     I identify myself to them and go in through the back; I wouldn’t be able to stand seeing Laurie’s blood on the lawn.
    My feeling right now is that if Laurie never makes it back to this house, then I will never live here again. Certainly I can’t
     tolerate the idea of staying here now.
    Back at the hospital they still won’t let me in to see Laurie; she is in intensive care and very susceptible to infection.
     An intensive care nurse tells me that Laurie is a fighter, and I know that’s true. I also know that the cemeteries are full
     of fighters.
    I’ve got to get a grip.
    I lie down on the hospital bed, fully clothed, at about eleven o’clock, and start to cry. It’s the first time I can remember
     crying since my father died, and if memory serves, this feels even more painful.
    A nurse opens the door to see if she can help, but when I ignore her, she leaves me alone. Soon I lie down on the bed, and
     before I know it, it’s four o’clock in the morning. For a brief moment on awakening I forget where I am or why I’m here, and
     the quick realization is like taking a punch in the gut.
    I stagger down to the nurses’ station and ask if there’s any word on Laurie’s condition. The nurse smiles and says, “She’s
     resting comfortably.”
    “She told you that?” I ask.
    “Well, no… she…”
    “She’s in a coma. How would you know if she’s comfortable?”
    “Maybe I should call the head nurse.”
    “Never mind,” I say, and head back to the room. I’ve accomplished nothing except attacking a young woman who was only trying
     to help and make me feel better.
    Feeling better seems a ways off.
    My cell phone starts ringing at seven o’clock and simply does not stop. Every friend that Laurie has, and that includes pretty
     much everyone she has ever met, is calling to find out how she is, and to offer whatever help they can provide.
    Edna calls at seven thirty. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Edna say a word before nine o’clock, ever, but she has many to say
     now. It’s a mixture of outrage at the animal who could hurt Laurie, and pleading with me to let her help. She tells me that
     she is going to come to the hospital and sit in the lobby, so as to be there in case I need her. I tell her not to, but I’m
     actually touched by her reaction, and Laurie will be as well, I hope.
    Kevin comes at eight o’clock, and Dr. Norville arrives half an hour later, as part of his rounds. He has nothing new to report,
     except to say that Laurie spent a comfortable night. I resist the urge to torture him as I did the nurse.
    They let me see Laurie through a glass window into the intensive care unit. She looks better than I