1.g.
The pee pee in
Mr. Smith’s pants was no longer a comfort.
It had been left unattended in all the commotion that resulted from Mr.
Smith’s outburst. He had declared the
current status of his lower region in clear and certain terms, the response to
which had been quite overwhelming, however the wet crotch which had nabbed such
attention had not yet been attended.
The irony was
lost on Mr. Smith.
He growled and
then glared at his lap. Then he growled
some more. He employed this tactic
several times without success. When the
effort failed once again he let out a whine, much like a dog with a full
bladder crying out for a master long overdue for return. Unlike the anxious dog the contents of Mr.
Smith’s bladder, long since released, were a problem only because it was cold
and soggy around his thighs at present.
Mr. Smith was
also hungry. He had not been wheeled to
breakfast but was, instead, returned to his room amidst a crowd of shouting
hospital administrators and doctors. The
clamor eventually died down with only the occasional raised voice passing by
his door.
Mr. Smith
wished Mr. Spittle would come by for visit.
But, with all the growling and urine, Mr. Spittle had stayed away.
There were
voices outside his door again.
“No. I’m sorry.
No one is allowed to see Mr. Smith.”
“And why not?”
“Ma’am I don’t
make policy. I just do what they tell
me.”
“I’m a close
personal friend.”
“You could be
his mother and I still couldn’t allow you inside.”
“Is this a
question of money?”
“No
Ma’am. And you best be on your way.”
“Sex then?”
“What?”
“Is it
sex? Will sex get me in?”
“Bitch you’re
crazy.”
“Come on. Just let me in.”
“No
unauthorized personnel to see Mr. Smith.
Period.”
Mr.
Smith. That was him, Mr. Smith
thought. At least that’s what everyone
was calling him. He didn’t feel like a
Smith though. And why was he now
comprehending himself as a named entity?
And just why was he in this hospital?
And for that matter, why–
“Oh oh oh,”
Mr. Smith said at the sudden, and very distracting, appearance of Mr. Spittle.
