Sonny walked into the hospital room, and took a seat in a chair by the bed.
Looking at the man lying in the bed, he asked, "How are you doing, this morning?"
"Get out of here," Mike said.
Sonny said, "I know that you've gotten some bad news, but you can't let that hold you down. You've got to get on with your life."
"Just what I need ... advice from an asshole," Mike said bitterly.
"If you weren't a cop, I'd take your ass outside, and kick the shit out of it," Sonny said without anger.
"That would be a real challenge," Mike said sarcastically. "I bet you'd like beating up a one armed man."
"It wouldn't be a challenge at all, and I doubt it would be much fun. I do think it is damned near necessary, though," Sonny said.
"Why?"
Sonny said, "Sitting there feeling all sorry for yourself isn't going to take care of business. You've still got a wife who loves you. Your kids still need you. There are bills to pay, and things that have to be done around the house. How many arms you have, doesn't change that."
"How am I going to do any of that stuff, with just one arm?" Mike asked.
"There's a lot of stuff that you can't do, but there is even more stuff that you can do. That's what you should be concentrating on. You should be looking at what you can do," Sonny said.
He looked at the man in the bed, knowing that his words were falling on deaf ears. Mike had lost more than an arm. He had lost his identity as a police officer.
He sighed and said, "You're not going to listen to me."
"Why should I?" Mike asked.
He blamed a lot of his condition on Sonny. He had been on the trail of the men who had come to visit Sonny in the hospital the first time he had been shot when he had asked Sonny to come down to the station. He was pretty sure that they were responsible for the escalation of violence that led to him getting shot.
"Maybe it is because I'm one of the few honest men left in this god forsaken town," Sonny said.
"You? Honest? Don't blow smoke up my ass," Mike said.
Shaking his head, Sonny said, "As far as I can tell, I'm one of the few people left here who will tell it like it is. I'll call a spade a spade. I'll tell you flat out what needs to be done without regard to what you think is allowed. I really don't care what the people here think of me and my ideas."
"You're an asshole," Mike said.
"Me? I'm not the one who chased his wife out of his room. I saw your wife sitting down the hallway crying her eyes out. That woman loves you, and you don't seem to care," Sonny said. He leaned over towards Mike and added, "If anyone in this room is an asshole, it is you."
"Why do you even care?" Mike asked bitterly.
Sonny leaned back in his chair. It was obvious that Mike's emotions were all over the place. One minute he was bitter and then the next minute he was angry. There was an undercurrent of depression and despair.
He answered, "I didn't respect you at all when I first met you. I thought that you weren't doing your job. Then I realized that you were doing all that you could, under the circumstances. You really did care about protecting the public. The problem was that the public didn't want your protection. That didn't stop you from doing all you could. You were kind of a heroic figure, battling evil without any support. I probably shouldn't say this, but I actually like you."
"Look at where it got me," Mike said.
"I know exactly where it got you. In case you have forgotten, I was lying in the bed next to yours until you changed rooms," Sonny said. "All I'm saying is that you have to decide where you are going to go to from here."
"I'll be going home and sitting around like a useless piece of trash. I'm damaged goods and nobody wants me," Mike said getting angry again.
Sonny gave a snort of disgust. He said, "That's where you're wrong. Your wife wants you. You've got to decide what is important to you and start working to protect it."
"She deserves more than half a man," Mike said.
Sadly, Sonny shook his head. He said, "From what I've seen of Los Angeles, there aren't many men here who even qualify to be half a man. You're head and shoulders above a bunch of sniveling cowards who hide behind others, and then blame them when things don't work out right."
"Well," Mike said.
"If you chase off your wife, she's liable to marry some jerk who won't even try to protect her. I figure that even with just one arm, you would still pick up a baseball bat and try to take out anyone who breaks into your house or threatens her. You wouldn't sit cowering in a closet, trying to get through on 911 calling for help while your wife is getting raped. You might not succeed in saving her, but you would try. From what I've seen around here that makes you one of the few men left in this city," Sonny said.
"You're right," Mike said.
Sonny looked at the door and said, "I've got to be leaving now. It is time for me to check out of this place."
"You're wrong about one thing though," Mike said.
"What?"
Mike said, "There are a lot of good people left in this city."
Sonny said, "Maybe, but I suggest that you take a trip around this country. Visit some of the small towns when you get out of here. Meet some people and talk to them. You might not like what you hear, at first, but I think you'll grow to appreciate them. You'll meet a lot of folks who react to adversity by hitching up their pants and getting to work. You'll meet a lot of people who will step in to help others in trouble without being asked. After a couple of months of talking to real men and women who know how to take care of themselves, you won't have such a good impression of the folks around here."
Mike said, "I might do that."
"Take your wife with you. The two of you just might find a home where people appreciate what you've got to offer the community," Sonny said.
The fact that a police officer had been wounded during a drive by shooting hadn't made it to the front page of the newspaper. The front page had been filled with the story of the gang getting destroyed. Sonny was sure the day when assaults on police were no longer news, was on the horizon. He hoped that Mike would be around when that happened.
He turned to leave and then added, "It has been nice knowing you. Have a good life."
"Thanks," Mike said.
Sonny stepped out the room, where he was met by Donny.
After they were a couple of steps away from the door, Sonny said, "I couldn't leave without talking to him."
"Did you get everything taken care of in there?" Donny asked while gesturing at the door of Mike's hospital room.
"No. I did what I could, though," Sonny said shaking his head.
He knew that Mike was wallowing in misery. It would be a while before the man took charge of his life and moved on to something else. He hoped that the man didn't alienate all of the people around him before getting his act together.
"That's all you can do," Donny said.
He watched how his brother was walking. Sonny was moving slow and it was obvious that he was still in quite a bit of pain. Real life wasn't quite like the police shows where a man was shot in one episode and then was all right for the next one. Sonny wouldn't be back in true form for months.
Sonny said, "He grew up wanting to be a cop and became a cop. After more than twenty-five years of being a cop, he can't be a cop. The poor guy has lost his identity as a result of a couple ounces of lead. What do you do when you can't be what you've always have been?"
"That's a good question," Donny said.
He wondered how he would deal with that situation although it wasn't the first time the thought had crossed his mind. A man didn't ride a bull without knowing that he could get seriously hurt. There were a lot of former rodeo folks living their lives out in wheelchairs.
Pausing and turning his whole body to look back at the door, Sonny said, "He's going to be bitter about this for a long time."
"I can't blame him. He's been shot," Donny said.
"He's going to be bitter about the wrong thing," Sonny said.
Sonny started heading back towards his room. Donny walked beside him while pausing occasionally to look inside the rooms along the hallway. There were a lot of sick people in that hospital.
"What do you mean?"
"He's blaming me because the gang violence increased," Sonny said. "He's blaming the wrong group."
"It was the gang that was doing the shooting," Donny said shaking his head.
"I don't blame the gang," Sonny said.
Surprised by that, Donny asked, "Who do you blame?"
"I blame the system that operates out here. There is something seriously wrong when you can't arrest the criminals ... when you can't lock murders, rapists, and thieves away for life ... when law enforcement becomes a means of raising money for the city by handing out traffic tickets," Sonny said.
"The priorities out here are all wrong. It seems to me that trivial stuff is taken seriously and serious stuff is taken lightly."
Donny said, "He should have gotten out of there a long time ago."
"It is easy to delude yourself into believing that things aren't as bad as they really are. I believe he kept thinking that someone somewhere would wake up and realize that things had devolved into something absurd. I'm sure that he thought things would improve that would make his job easier," Sonny said. "I didn't realize things were so bad out here ... and I live here."
"I guess I can see that," Donny said.
Sonny twisted a little and the movement pulled something inside him. He paused to catch his breath. He held his stomach and waited for the pain to pass. He was still dealing with scar tissue from his first injury.
With a grimace, he said, "It got me shot twice in one month."
Donny asked, "How's the stomach?"
"It feels like I got shot there," Sonny said with a dry laugh.
"It'll be a few days before you're up to riding a bull," Donny said with a wink.
"At least a few days," Sonny said while walking beside his brother. He pointed to a room and said, "I'd like to stop in there for a minute."
"Who is in there?" Donny asked.
Sonny answered, "Just a woman I met here in the hospital."
"You dog. You get shot and use it as an excuse to pickup women," Donny said.
He started to nudge his brother in the side, but stopped the action. Sonny was still hurting from his injuries.
"It is not like that. I believe that you've already met her. Why don't you come on in, and talk to her," Sonny said.
"Really?" Donny asked.
The pair went into the room. A woman was lying on the bed furthest from the door. Donny recognized the woman despite the fact that she appeared to have lost thirty pounds since the first time he had met her. She almost looked like a skeleton lying in the bed.
In a weak voice, she said, "Hello, Sonny."
"Hello, Maggie," Sonny said. "This is my brother Donny."
Donny removed his hat while he said, "Hello, ma'am. I remember you. You were on the elevator when we came to visit to Sonny the first time he was shot."
"I've still got that card your uncle gave me," Maggie said glancing over at the table beside the bed.
She occasionally got out the card and looked at it dreaming of being out there in the country. She wasn't a country girl, but she did enjoy outdoor activities. She felt that people who never went out into nature were missing something important.
"You know, you're welcome to come visit us anytime," Donny said.
Turning her head to look out the window, Maggie said, "I don't think I'll make it there. They couldn't stop the cancer."
"I'm really sorry to hear that ma'am," Donny said. "I'll keep you in my prayers."
"Thank you," Maggie said.
It was strange to think that these people, who for all intents and purposes were complete strangers, would take the time to stop by and talk to her. She looked forward to Sonny's visits. She spent a lot of time fantasizing about visiting a place that she had never seen.
Sonny asked, "How are you feeling, today?"
"I'm a little tired," Maggie answered.
Despite taking large doses of painkillers, she still felt a lot of pain. She was left in a purgatory in which she couldn't sleep, wasn't alert, and was never free of pain.
"Would you like me to leave so that you have a chance to sleep?" Sonny asked with a worried expression on his face.
Maggie said, "No, I can't sleep. Stay here for a little while and talk to me. I get a little lonely."
"I'll stay as long as you want," Sonny said.
"Don't you have better things to do?" Maggie asked looking at Donny.
"No, Ma'am. There's nothing more important than comforting a friend," Donny answered with a friendly smile.
Looking over at Sonny, she said, "Tell me a little more about your place. What's it like in the winter?"
Sonny gestured to a chair for Donny to take a seat. He sat down in the other chair located at the foot of the bed. He leaned back and stared up at the ceiling, to picture the ranch in the middle of winter.
He said, "I don't know which season I like the best. Fall is beautiful with all of the colors, but winter can be pretty magical, too. The land changes in the winter. No two days are exactly the same. Everything gets covered with snow. The whole landscape turns softer and gentler looking. It isn't flat, but undulates ... like dunes in a desert, or swells on the ocean. It looks peaceful in a way that is hard to explain.
"The snow isn't like the dirty gray stuff that you see around cities. It is so white that it sometimes hurts the eyes to look upon it. You would think with everything being white that there wouldn't be a texture to the landscape, but you'd be wrong. The shadows have a blue tinge to them, rather than looking a flat gray. Sometimes, when the sun is just right, the snowflakes will reflect the light so that the surface of the snow looks like it glows.
"Providing a contrast to the vast plain of whiteness, are the pine trees. The dark green needles and the brown trunks stand out in sharp contrast to the white snow. The trees look different in the winter. The branches that stand out proudly from the tree in summer, sag under the weight of the snow. If there's a gentle breeze, you'll see islands of white floating amongst the branches. It is almost hypnotic to watch."
Donny watched Maggie close her eyes listening to Sonny describe the landscape. A soft smile graced her face. Her features softened.
Sonny continued, "You'd think it would be quiet, but it isn't. There's a special kind of sharpness to the air that makes the smallest sound carry a long distance. You can hear clumps of snow, fall from the trees. You can hear the snow move across the landscape.
"When you walk outdoors, the snow makes a crunching sound. The sound differs, depending upon the kind of snow that has fallen. Sometimes it is a soft sound while other times it is harsh like you're breaking crackers over a bowl of chili.
"There are times when the surface is hard, and you can walk on top of the snow. Then you'll hit a weak spot, and sink down to your hips with a whomp. Other times, the snow won't support a feather. Trying to walk through it, is like wading through thick water. It will tire a healthy man out, in just a hundred yards."
Sonny watched her, observing that she was nearly asleep.
In a softer voice, he said, "Above all of that whiteness, is the clear blue sky. On really cold days, the sky is a pale blue, lighter than a robin's egg. It seems like you can see forever. The bright sun hangs there, looking small and cold in the vastness of the sky."
Seeing that Maggie was asleep, Sonny got up and went over to the bed. He kissed her forehead.
Stepping back, he said, "Sleep well, Maggie."
Donny rose from his chair and eased towards the door.
In a very soft voice, he said, "Do not fear the future, Maggie. Sometimes God needs a friendly ear that appreciates the miracles he was wrought."
The two young men left the room. In a harsh tight voice, Donny said, "That cancer is a mean disease."
"You can say that again," Sonny said shaking his head. He wiped his eyes and said, "She is a nice lady."
"Yes, she is," Donny said agreeing with his brother.
"Let's get out of here," Sonny said.
They hadn't taken three steps towards the elevators when a nurse came over to them. In a demanding tone of voice, she asked, "What do you think you're doing?"
"We're leaving," Sonny said.
"You've got to ride to the door in a wheelchair," the nurse said.
Sonny said, "I'm walking around, now. I don't need a wheelchair."
"There are procedures that we have to follow," the nurse said.
She put her hands on her hips, and looked up at Sonny as if daring him to suggest that they not follow procedure.
"You might as well surrender, Sonny. This is a battle you're not going to win," Donny said with a smile.