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Toe to Toe

When the three amigos bustled into room 315, Butch had not yet touched his pizza and beer. He was scowling into the open get-well card as it made vomiting noises.

As the amigos gathered at his bed railing, Butch said, “What the hell is this?”

Rebecca said, “A talking card.”

“In what language?”

“That one doesn’t say anything.”

“It just makes vomiting noises,” Spencer said.

Bobby said, “It’s the funniest talking card they had.”

“It’s not funny,” Butch disagreed.

“It’s at least amusing.”

“No.” He closed the card. “Did you buy this in the gift shop? Did the clerk have curly white hair, rosy cheeks? Were her glasses hanging around her neck on a beaded chain?”

“That’s her,” said Spencer. “She was very helpful.”

“That’s Miriam. She’s a hustler. Nobody wants to work in a hospital gift shop, always around sick people. They could get her to take the job only by paying a commission. That woman could sell you your own shoes.”

“Now that we’re talking about jobs,” said Bobby, “we never asked where you work.”

Putting the card aside, Butch said, “I’m chief of security at Keppelwhite Institute. Why?”

To avoid answering the question, Rebecca said, “You haven’t touched your pizza. It’ll get cold.”

“I like it cold. You came back just to ask where I work?”

“Your beer is getting warm.”

“I like pizza cold and beer warm. I’m an independent thinker. What’s it matter where I work?”

“It doesn’t,” Bobby said. “It doesn’t matter at all.”

Spencer said, “We had a bet, that’s all.”

“A bet?”

“About what kind of work you do.”

“What is that a thing to bet on?” Butch asked.

Rebecca said, “Your pizza is getting warm.” As Butch frowned in consideration of what she said, Rebecca took hold of her amigos’ hands. “Come on, guys, we gotta scoot. Ernie is waiting.”

She didn’t want to be there when Butch asked more questions that they would not answer, which was sure to make him suspicious. More urgently, she didn’t want to be there when he picked up the joke book.

In room 344, Harry was still dead from Rubik’s Cube, and his bed remained empty, while Jim Jamie James sat in the first bed, gazing dispiritedly at his untouched pudding.

“Hey, Jim,” Spencer said brightly, “I have a couple of friends I want you to meet.”

Jim smiled broadly and sat up straighter as Rebecca reached across the bed railing to shake his hand. “I’m Rebecca.”

“Oh, gosh almighty, I know who you are. Everybody in the world knows who you are.”

“I’m an actress,” she said, and the Sham at once offered his hand, provided his first name, and said, “I’m a writer.”

Spencer said, “And I never told you, I’m a painter, an artist.”

Dazzling Jim by taking his hand again and holding it in both of her hands, Rebecca said, “So, what are you?”

“What am I?”

“What work do you do?”

“I’m head of human resources.”

“That’s a big job, Jim.”

“There’s a lot of responsibility, but it’s not that big a job.”

She squeezed his hand. “I like it when an important man is also humble. I’m very attracted to that. What company, Jim?”

“Company?”

“What company is lucky enough to have you as head of human resources?”

“It’s not a company exactly. It’s more of a nonprofit research facility. Darn if you aren’t even more beautiful in real life than you are on TV and in the movies.”

“That’s so sweet. I’m never going to forget how sweet you are, Jim. We just—”

He interrupted. “You can call me Jamie. ‘Jim’ is for business, ‘Jamie’ for friends. Your eyes are amazing.”

Nodding, smiling, she said, “Listen to me, Jamie. I want you to focus. Can you focus for me, Jamie? No? Okay, don’t look at my eyes, Jamie. Look at my nose. Can you look at my nose? Good. All right. Now focus for me. What is the name of this nonprofit research facility where you’re head of human resources?”

“The Keppelwhite Institute. Dear God, I could just look at you all day.”

“No you can’t, Jamie. Not possible. You take care of yourself and have a good life.”

She let go of his hand. With her amigos close behind, she split the scene.