Learning to Walk, a City Hospital Novel Read Free Page B

he could tell if the bus had been by yet. A few times he could hear low voices from the nurses’ station, but he couldn’t make out words, not even enough to hear if any of the voices were male.
    Finally, about three minutes before Kit’s appointment time, a nurse walked past Neil’s door alongside Kit’s wheelchair, taking him to the therapy room. Kit didn’t look in or say anything, and he was gone too fast for Neil to see his face. At least he’d arrived.
    Neil gave the man a couple of minutes -- long enough for Kit to settle in, not long enough for him to start fretting -- then grabbed his clipboard and Kit’s file and headed for the therapy room.
    When Neil opened the door, Kit was facing away from it, looking at the bar he used to pull himself up and support his weight like it was new and interesting object he’d never seen before, instead of an item he’d been using long before he’d met Neil. He didn’t look over or give any indication at all that he’d heard Neil come in.
    It gave Neil a moment to really look at Kit. The man had shaved this morning, or maybe last night, his face quite handsome without the scraggly beard. Neil could easily be attracted to Kit; even the grumpy attitude had an odd sort of appeal. Or at least it would, if weren’t the only aspect of the man’s personality that Kit had shared so far.
    “Morning, Kit,” Neil called out, heading right over.
    Kit said nothing, but he did turn to look, his face blank. He didn’t look mad or upset, just perfectly neutral. That was the attitude Neil didn’t like, the nothingness.
    Neil touched Kit’s shoulder. “How’re you doing this morning, man?”
    “Fine.” Kit’s voice was as neutral as his face. “What’s the goal today?”
    It made him wonder what was up -- well, it also made him want to send that neutral expression scurrying. “Same as yesterday, plus one on every exercise.”
    “All right.” Kit reached for the bar and carefully pulled himself up, giving the work all of his attention.
    Neil moved around to the other end and came forward until he was about three steps in front of Kit. It was enough room to catch Kit if he had to, but at the same time he wasn’t crowding Kit, either.
    Kit pulled himself, painfully slowly, along the bars and then turned. Neil trotted around to face Kit again.
    He waited until Kit was about halfway along before speaking. “You got anything on your mind today?”
    “You didn’t tell me that you weren’t coming this morning.” Kit kept moving, his face tight as he worked.
    No, he hadn’t. “I wanted to see what would happen if your routine changed on you, even just a little bit. It’s important that you’re prepared for when things don’t go like you’re expecting them to.” He also had to admit -- to himself at least -- that he’d been worried Kit would cancel if he knew Neil wasn’t going to be there this morning.
    Kit got to the end and turned himself again before speaking. “Routine.” He nodded sharply. “Got it. Everything is a fucking routine, and it doesn’t matter if it’s fucking courtesy to let someone know. And now I know where I fit. Thanks.”
    “And where exactly is it that you fit?” Neil kept his voice calm, easy.
    Kit struggled toward the far end, his breathing hard. “Patient. Full stop. Problem to be solved.”
    Neil stepped close enough to keep Kit from taking another step. He put his hand on Kit’s, curled around it. “You’re not a problem to be solved; you’re a human being to be helped. That’s my job, Kit, and it’s one I enjoy because I care about my patients. I care about you.”
    Kit snatched his hand away and promptly fell with an abrupt cry, unable to bear his own weight or to catch himself again on the bar. “Don’t touch me!” He pulled himself away from Neil, dragging his body by his arms for a few inches before stopping. “Don’t!”
    “Let me help you, Kit. Please.” He didn’t touch Kit again, though; he waited for