Moving On Read Free Page B

temple.
    “Was he run over, or what? What’s wrong with him?” Patsy asked, tears starting in her eyes. It was terrifying to see her husband lying with his eyes closed amid a crowd of cowboys.
    “Just knocked out,” the clown said. “He was in a kind of fight, he’s not hurt bad. We’ll get him in an ambulance in a minute.”
    “But Jim never fights,” she said, kneeling and brushing awkwardly at the dirt in his hair. He was very blond and she could see the dirt against his scalp. “We don’t even know anybody here—who could he have wanted to fight?”
    The clown squatted beside her and silently took off his bandanna and handed it to her. “He ain’t hurt bad,” he said calmly. “You don’t need to have no hysterics. What happened was a couple of bronc riders beat him up. He snapped ’em at the wrong time, I guess.”
    When Patsy looked up, all she could see was the legs of cowboys, long legs in blue Levi’s, and large hands with the thumbs hooked in the pockets of the Levi’s.
    “Where is the ambulance?” she asked. “I won’t be hysterical, but can’t it come on?”
    “Oh, it’s right out there,” the clown said. “Its the driver we can’t locate. He went off with some woman and took his keys with him.
    “Pete’s my name,” he added.
    “But that’s awful,” she said. “That’s awful.” Jim’s face seemed waxen to her. She had an urge to feel his pulse but was afraid to for fear she wouldn’t be able to find it. The clown’s hair was sandy and curly at the back of his neck, and only the fact that he seemed genuinely unworried kept her from breaking down completely.
    Then, to her relief, there was the sound of a motor, and a white ambulance spun into the arena, cut sharply their way, and skidded through the knot of cowboys, almost to Jim’s feet. It scared Patsy terribly, but the cowboys jumped gracefully out of the way and seemed amused at the driver’s recklessness. Suddenly several of them converged on Jim. Pete helped her up, and in a moment Jim was in the ambulance and Pete was helping her in after him. When she looked around to thank him all the cowboys were standing behind him, arranged like so many wooden-faced sculptures, all of them staring at her. It embarrassed her, and she blushed.
    “Have you to town in no time, ma’am,” the driver said. Patsy turned and saw that he too was watching her. He was a balding man, with such hair as he had slicked down. His shirt wasn’t buttoned.
    “Couldn’t you come?” she said, turning back to Pete. “I don’t know what to do.”
    “No, got to work,” he said. “He’ll come to in a minute.” He nodded kindly as he shut the ambulance doors.
    She realized then that she had his bandanna in her hand, but it was too late to give it back. The ambulance was already spinning around in the soft dirt, and a cloud of dust hid the clown and the cowboys. “We’re off,” the driver said cheerfully, as if it were a race. The ambulance came out of its curve and almost plowed into two black Shetland ponies that had wandered into the entranceway to the arena.
    “Shit-toody,” the driver said, braking hard. “Get them goddamn ponies out of the way,” he yelled, leaning out of the window. “I got a hurt man in here.” A cowboy ran up and yanked the little ponies unceremoniously aside and the ambulance shot through the entrance-way, only to brake abruptly again when confronted with the milling crowd of children and horses and men. The starting and stopping seemed to wake Jim up. He blinked and made a restless movement.
    “He ain’t hurt, he’s already movin’,” the driver said, looking back again. They passed out of the rodeo grounds, accelerated down a short dirt road, and lurched onto a highway. The rodeo pens were three miles outside the town. “Nothin’ to worry about,” the driver said, speeding into a curve. He kept looking back at Patsy, with more interest than he seemed to be able to muster for the road. She could