Imperfect Spiral Read Free Page A

Mrs. Raskin replies. “That way I don’t miss a call. And if—”
    She breaks off when she sees us.
    â€œThey finally answered the phone,” she says. “When the movie ended. They’re with Humphrey. Unless he’s being operated on. At any rate, they’re here.”
    â€œAny word on him?” my father asks. “Does anyone know how Humphrey’s doing?”
    â€œNot yet,” says Adrian.
    Both sets of the Dankers’ next-door neighbors are in the waiting room—the Crenshaws, who brought their three kids along, and the other couple, who don’t have kids and whose name I don’t know. There’s also Mrs. Hermann, whose house is on the corner of Quarry and Franklin, right next to where the accident happened. Mr. Stashower, whose house is on the opposite corner of Quarry and Franklin. Mrs. McGillicudy, who lives on our street. She gives me a hug. So does Adrian, who also slips my phone into my hand.
    â€œI had to pry it away from the crazy bat,” he whispers in my ear. “I think she wanted to download your contacts.”
    I don’t really get what he’s saying. She what?
    â€œSeriously—are you okay?” he asks.
    â€œI don’t know,” I say. “Did you see Humphrey’s parents?”
    â€œYeah. They came through the waiting room and went right back to wherever Humphrey’s being treated.”
    â€œDid you see Humphrey?” I ask.
    Adrian gives me a quizzical look. “How could I—”
    â€œI thought maybe when they brought him in. Maybe you saw if he opened his eyes.”
    â€œI didn’t get here until way after,” Adrian says. “Anyway, they don’t bring the ambulance patients through the waiting room.”
    Right. I should know that from those television dramas.
    â€œWhy is it so crowded in here?” I ask. Besides the neighbors, there are lots of people milling around.
    â€œFriday night in the ER,” Adrian says. “The end of the workweek. The beginning of the weekend. Doctors’ offices are closed, and people start doing crazy weekend things.”
    I see my parents speaking with a policeman, over in a corner.
    â€œYou’re probably going to have to talk with the cops,” Adrian says.
    â€œRight now?”
    Couldn’t they just talk to Mrs. Raskin or someone? Someone with lots of ideas about what happened out there?
    â€œWell, soon, I bet. They’ll want to get to you while your memory is fresh.”
    Mom and Dad come over. Yes, the police need to interview me. It will be a quick interview tonight. We don’t have to go to the police station; they will come to the house. Just a few questions, and if they need more details, they’ll follow up tomorrow.
    â€œBut what about Humphrey?” I ask.
    â€œI’m sure the doctors are doing everything they can to help him,” Mom says. “It’s time to get you home.”

    â€œTell us what happened. What time was it when you and Humphrey were walking home?”
    â€œAround seven fifteen. Seven twenty. Maybe seven twenty-five by the time we were on Quarry near Franklin.”
    â€œYou were playing with the football?”
    There are two police officers in our living room, a man and a woman. They’re taking turns asking the questions. I’m having a hard time focusing on who’s saying what.
    â€œYes. We were playing with the football.”
    â€œSo you’re tossing the football back and forth while walking home?”
    â€œOh, no. No. We played with the football at the park. We did that a lot. We were just going home and we dropped the football and it rolled into the street and Humphrey ran after it.”
    â€œSo when you say
we
dropped the football—”
    â€œ
I
dropped the football.”
    â€œAnd then.”
    â€œAnd it bounced into the street. Humphrey ran after it.”
    â€œDid you notice the car before it hit him?”
    â€œNo. I