Elaine Orr - Jolie Gentil 03 - When the Carny Comes to Town by Elaine Orr

thought buzzed in the back of my brain, but I couldn’t quite grab it.  I took out a blank order form and put back the folder, and then turned back toward Megan and Alicia.  “They aren’t letting people up to see him except a couple of us, but everybody up there listens to Aunt Madge.  If you want to peek in for a minute I bet she could arrange it.”
    Alicia had her back to me and turned slowly.  “How does he look?” she almost whispered.
    “If I didn’t know how badly he was hurt I’d say he doesn’t look too different.” 
    Alicia’s look of relief could only be described as enormous.  “I’m, I’m so happy,” she stammered.
    Definitely something going on here .  “Why don’t you guys give my aunt a call at the B&B if you want to go visit.”  I remembered Megan usually took the bus to volunteer at the pantry because she didn’t have a car.  “I can drive you if you want.”
    “I may well do that,” Megan said.
    We left it at that, but I knew Alicia was upset about something more than a recovering Scoobie.  I’d have to work out how to get her to talk about it.
     
    I WAS GETTING USED TO THE hospital routine, enough that I was bored silly.  Jennifer came by at lunch time and I was actually glad to see her. 
    “I’ve called and emailed anyone I could think of,” she said.  “And I said what you said, about he should get better and that people shouldn’t come over here.”
    “That’s great.”  I didn’t know what else to say.  I wasn’t about to ask her how her appraisal business was going.  Jennifer now runs her family’s business, and they do most of the appraisals in town.
    “You think he’ll be all right?” she asked.
    “Everybody says things about how lucky he’s been.” I said.  “If he was going to be a mush melon they probably wouldn’t say that.”  As soon as the words were out of my mouth I regretted them.  Scoobie would laugh at that, but hardly anyone else would.
    “Oh dear…” she began.
    “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have put it that way.”
    She actually patted my knee.  “You and Scoobie always have had your own…language.”
    Fortunately, she didn’t stay long.  Ramona was coming after she got off work at five o’clock, so I spent the afternoon sitting with Scoobie and calling a couple people myself.  Reverend Jamison said everyone was praying for Scoobie, and Lance said he’d been by “Harvest for All” and I shouldn’t worry about things there for awhile.
    “I’m not saying we could get along without you, but Sylvia or Dr. Welby or I could probably figure out how to do things like place orders with the Food Bank in Lakewood.”
    “If I need you to do that I’ll let you know.  Right now, it’s good to have something else to think about besides Scoobie.”
    “Never good to dwell on the negative,” he said, as he hung up.
    I smiled to myself.  Lance might be about ninety, but I’d already learned he knew a lot about friendship.  You could take some lessons.
     
    RAMONA AND I WERE sitting in the ICU lounge when Dr. Cahill stopped by at five-thirty.  “We’re going to wait until at least tomorrow evening to reduce the sedation.”  Seeing our expressions, she added, “He’s continuing to do well.  We just want his blood pressure to be relatively consistent for twenty-four hours straight.”
    Ramona and I talked again about the visit from Turk or Stefan or whatever his name is, and what to make of it.  “At least they’re out of town now,” she said.
    “Do you know where they were going?” I asked.
    “There was a small article saying Scoobie’s a bit better.  It also said the carnival was going to Asbury Park next.”
    I nodded.  The early home of Bruce Springsteen was only about 20 miles or so north of Ocean Alley. “I suppose kids are still in school, so they only do weekends.”
    “Why do you care?” she asked, clearly suspicious.
    “Just glad to know they aren’t here, that’s all.”
    But it wasn’t