Free A Shadow Fell by Patrick Dakin Page B

think I’m too personally involved – I should just leave it to the law.”
                  “Not for me to say,” he responded.
                  We spent the next couple of hours dealing with some rugged terrain that required all of our attention . Jagged rocks with deep crevices below made the descent dangerous. When we stopped to rest I handed Con a tin of water from my canteen . “You know quite a bit about me and my plans. But you’ve still never talked about Nam.”
                  He looked at me like he was assessing my worthiness. “I will, man,” he said. “I’m just not quite ready yet.”
                  We fell into our usual quiet mode of c ompanionship. T wo days later we were home .
     
                                                                          *               *               *                            
     
                  I called the hospital the moment I walked into the house . I asked the  nurse who answered if there had been any change in Callie’s condition .
                  “I’ve just come on duty and I’ve been off for a few days ,” she said. “Let me check.”
                  I was put on hold for a lot longer than I thought it should take to check on such a routine matter . I started to worry that something dire had happened. When the nurse finally got back to me she was a little winded. “Mr. Parmenter,” she said, “ I’m sorry to have kept you waiting but I wanted to get confirmation before telling you. Y our wife is awake. She’s awake!”              

 
     
     
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                  Before I could see her the hospital insisted on a little chat with the attending physician . I was directed to a Doctor Salouf, a handsome man with salt and pepper hair, immaculate taste in clothing, and very precise English. He reminded me a little of the actor, Omar Sharif. “ She came out of the coma two days ago,” Salouf told me when we met in his office. “She has remained awake for very short periods of time since then. This is quite normal . He r motor functions appear in tact . But she has a long road to recovery ahead of her.”
                  “I understand, D octor,” I said. “I imagine there will be a lot of therapy and so on required. But she’s going to be okay , r ight?”
                  He looked thoughtful. “ P hysically I believe there is good reason to believe she’ ll do fine. There will be a period of recuperation, of course, aided by physical therapy. It won’t be easy. But I see no reason why she shouldn’t do well in this area .”
                  The way he had stressed ‘this area’ left me with the strong impression there was another area he was not so optimistic about. “ There’s something else, Doctor. What aren’t you telling me?”
                  He cleared his throat. “It’s very early in her recovery yet and we don’t want to draw conclusions based on early indications … but so far she has not been communicative.”
                  “Is that unusual after such a long time in a coma?”
                  “When it comes to comas, Mr. Parmenter, there is much that we don’t know. There is really no such thing as normal in cases like this. But it appears at this stage that she is unable to verbalize or understand oral communication.”
                  “What are you saying? She doesn’t know how to talk?”
                  He nodded his head in a somber manner . “It appears that way, yes. We’re going to be running some tests over the