"Ardath Mayhar - The Little Finger on the Left Hand" - читать интересную книгу автора (Mayhar Ardath)

The Little Finger On The Left Hand
by Ardath Mayhar

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It wasn’t the pain. That was control-lable, even without the medication they insisted
on shooting into me every time I opened my mouth. I mean, it isn’t as though I’d
been some sort of marsh-mallow. In the house wrecking busi-ness, you get your
share of knocks and cuts, even when you’re careful. No, it wasn’t exactly the pain.
Maybe part was the inactivity.

For a man who has spent his entire life on his feet, when he wasn’t actually
asleep or making love, this lying flat on my back and staring at the antisep-tic white
ceiling was making me crazy. For the first time in my life, I was grate-ful to my Dad
for making me graduate from college. Bits and pieces came back to me . . . oddball
scraps of literature, formulas, bits of history. It helped to make the time pass, though
not much.

Still, it wasn’t just the boredom that was getting to me. It was that damned
little finger on my left hand. The one that isn’t there any more.

With all the broken bones and con-tusions and whatnot that I got when that
cut-stone wall fell on me, you’d think the loss of that finger wouldn’t even be
noticeable. I mean, it isn’t as if you use the thing much. And right now I can’t use
anything, being strung up like a wounded mummy. But that was the bit that was
missing from me when they dug me out, and that was the bit that was giving me Hell.

Dr. Yoshida came in, the first day I was out from under sedation enough to
tell him what was bothering me.

“Your nerves are still there, in the stump, Mr. Carstairs,” he said. “They send
signals to the brain, even though they no longer lead to the finger. After such a
trauma, they are sending scram-bled signals, I suspect. That is why you have that
gnawing sensation and the sudden sharp pains.

“After a time, they will heal at the severed ends, and the worst will be past.
Though I must admit that I have had patients who had terrible itches in missing limbs
for years after losing them. However, right now you can call for sedation, when it
gets too painful. You need that for rest, too, I am sure. By the time you are able to
move about a bit, the worst will be over.”

It made some sense. I believed him. But I’m not one who likes to be doped
up, no matter what. I just lay there and felt sharp teeth gnawing away at that finger
until I was ready to scream. If it hadn’t been for Lola, I’d have gone off my gourd.

She comes in every day for as long as they’ll let her stay. I keep reminding her
that if she’d said yes when I asked her to marry me she might stay as long as she
liked. She grins at that, because she didn’t exactly say no. She said in four months,
when she has her degree and time for a husband and a new job, both at once.