Papers, so many papers. PePé shuddered at the sight of the fat clipboard they handed Angel.
“Go sit down there, Mr. Morales,” the nurse said. She pointed with her nose to a crowded bank of plastic seats.
“You sit, Papa,” Angel said as they approached the one open chair.
“No, por favor,” PePé replied. “You need a place to think.”
A rumpled man with dried blood on his face bounced out of a chair and shot over, his arms crossing as he approached. “Hey,” the man barked.
A woman in a bathrobe and nightgown trailed after him calling, “Oscar, Oscar…please don’t…”
PePé cocked his head and said, “Aren’t you our neighbor? Look, hijo. Our neighbor…Señora Westcott.”
“Hmm,” Angel muttered, offering a brief smile before returning to his papers. “Saffron came to see her today. She’s very sick with cancer, Papa.”
“Lo siento,” PePé told her.
“Hey, ‘lo siento’ this,” Oscar growled. “You guys came in after me, long after me, and yet they just take your wife in like she’s royalty. What gives?”
“What’s wrong with Saffron?” Raisa asked. “Complications?”
“Who cares?” Oscar snapped.
Raisa put her hand on Oscar’s chest and said, “Back off, Oscar. You really are the limit.”
“This moron is with you?” Angel asked.
Oscar flailed out with his hand. PePé caught him by the wrist and held firmly. “Let go!” Oscar yelped. The security guard heaved a loud sigh and started towards them.
“You’d be surprised how hard the old man can hang onto you,” Angel said. “I advise you to stop struggling and listen.”
PePé spoke through gritted teeth. “My son…his wife…my family…If you dare to strike at them again, you will know pain, señor.” Angel nodded. PePé released Oscar and turned his attention to Raisa. “It surprises me to see you with this man. It makes me sad. But I cannot permit you to be near my family if he is with you.”
The security guard inserted his night stick between Oscar and PePé and said “Okay, fun and games are over. Everyone to their corners and no more rough-housing.” PePé turned a hard glare on Raisa.
Oscar slid around Raisa and then stopped. “Come on, Raisa. These people are just selfish jerks. You don’t need that. Come sit with someone who cares about you.”
Raisa looked back to the section where they had been sitting. “It looks like we’ll be standing, actually,” she said.
Oscar groaned and muttered, “I hate this place.” As he stalked away down the hall, he continued to speak as if Raisa walked behind him, though she stalled beside the nurse’s desk, her arms wrapped around herself. “I’m going to the bathroom,” he declared. “And splash some water on my face. I’m sick of all this blood and no one here is lifting a finger to help me. I swear I’m going to report this place.”
The swinging door had just settled behind him when an orderly stepped out of the emergency room entrance and called, “Oscar Daniels?”
