Chapter 12

Lars being Lars wasn’t happy at all. Being shunned wasn’t included in his language or view of the world as it should be. 

This is Spain; yes, we have gay marriage but without a ring, you wait outside and stay away from the nurses’ paths. I love the Spanish Public Health System. 

Loyola came the next day (or I think so because one loses track of time in those intensive care windowless units) and she was very worried about me. The doctors had told her that the bullet had caused significant damage and I faced a long recovery to get full mobility of my left arm. 

I felt bad for her because she had left her baby with the cleaning lady. She needed to return home as soon as possible because the school where she worked at wasn’t going to give her more than two free days. 

“Eric, you know you shouldn’t be near weapons,” she told me. “Remember all the times we had to duck for cover when you were around.”  

“I wasn’t shooting at all!” I defended myself. “I only saw some birds flying-and none of them crapped on me, so that’s an improvement in my luck-. One short sighted asshole mistook me for a rabbit.” 

“That’s your normal level of luck, jinx-boy,” she sighed with the resignation of the Virgin Mary. “Mr. Berggren is very upset for what happened and offers to take care of your medical expenses. I think you should accept his offer. You’d get better doctors and care there than here.”