"Hey, I resent that," Brent said, laughing. "I'm no pig."
"No?" Kirk said. "But it's what's for lunch. I bring you, hot from the kitchen, today's luncheon speciality, cooked to a turn by the seven nonfunctionals at the stove: breast of sow's ear stuffed with artichoke livers."
"It's artichoke hearts," Amy said, laughing again.
"Not this time, honey. And it's not the only thing that will be choking around here."
"You can say that again," Brent said as Kirk lifted the platter lid and they saw what lay steaming on the plate.
"Yummy," Amy said. "I could eat a horse."
"Hang on," Kirk said. "That's what's for dinner."
The hospital was quiet. Dinner had long since passed. Amy was with Kirk and Brent in their room watching a rerun of The Longest Day on television. The troops were beginning to land. Sirens were wailing, guns were firing, artillery was booming through the small speaker.
Brent was idly sketching on a pad of drawing paper.
A tooth paste commercial came on the tube and the sirens continued to wail.
"What do you suppose that is?" asked Amy.
"Just a fire, I guess," Brent replied, doodling on the paper with his drawing pencil.
"Shhh," said Kirk. "I love toothpaste commercials. I can hardly hear the line about whiter than white with you two gabbing away."
"They sound awful close," said Amy.
"They sure do," Brent replied.
A commercial for soda came on.
"It sounds like action at the emergency ward," Kirk said.
"Big action, from the sound of it," Brent replied. "There's more than one siren out there, that's for sure."
"I hope it's nothing too serious," Amy said. "The sirens always make me kind of jittery."
"Why don't we wander down and see," Kirk suggested. "No one would care at this hour."
"I don't know, Kirk," Amy said. "It scares me. Besides, we'd be leaving Brent alone."
"That's okay, Amy. I wouldn't mind. I'm curious too. Maybe you could find out what the excitement is," Brent said.
"I still don't know."
"Come on, Amy. No harm. We won't get into anybody's way. We'll just peek through the doors and psych out what's going on."
"Go ahead. I've got the movie to watch," Brent said. "I don't mind being alone."
"I don't like it, Kirk."
The sounds of the sirens continued to pile up against the window and creep into the room like fog.
"Just for a minute. Just to check on what's going on."
"Okay, Kirk," Amy said. She stood up and wrapped her bathrobe close around her. She slid her bare feet into her slippers.
"We'll be right back, Brent," she said. "I can guarantee we won't be long."
Kirk and Amy left the room. The commercials were over. Brent returned to watching the invasion of Normandy.
The halls were empty. Down to the right of the room the two night nurses were conversing quietly. Kirk and Amy sneaked away in the other direction toward the service elevator. They pushed the elevator button and Amy watched as the arrow worked itself up from the ground floor to number six. The door opened and flooded the dim alcove with bright light.
Kirk took Amy's arm and put both crutches under his other arm. The doors hissed closed behind them. Kirk leaned against the wall and rested.
"Which floor is Emergency on?" Amy asked.
"One," replied Kirk.
Amy pushed the "One" button and the elevator lurched and began to descend.
"I think we ought to go back. I don't want to be in the way," Amy said.
"We won't be in the way. We won't even go in, just peek through the door."
The elevator came to a stop and the doors hissed open again. The first-floor hallway was very dim. Except for the emergency ward at the other end of the hospital, there were only offices and receptionists and gift shops and outpatient units on the first floor. In the silence, the sirens still wailed from outside the building.
"It must be something pretty big from the sound of it. I wonder what could have happened."
Amy and Kirk walked cautiously through the corridors toward the sound of the sirens. They turned a corner and saw the bright lights of the emergency ward beneath the door at the end of the hallway. Under the double swinging door, shadows crossed and recrossed in the light.
"Let's go back," Amy suggested again.
"No way. We're this far. I can't go back now without checking."
They moved down the hallway until they stood just outside the swinging doors. The sirens continued, and now Amy and Kirk heard the sound of running footsteps and crying and moans and doors slamming.
Kirk pushed against the right of the two doors, swinging it slightly open. He and Amy leaned forward to look.
They squinted from the brightness of the glare.
The scene through the door was horrible. Slumped bodies were in every free chair. Kids leaned against the walls. Nurses and doctors and residents in white rushed from person to person. Heads were bandaged, blood ran down cheeks, two boys lay writhing on the floor. Amy saw a piece of bone sticking through the skin of a young girl's arm.
"More help here," one doctor yelled, and a nurse rushed from one bleeding teenager to another.
The outside doors of the emergency ward opened and the sound of the sirens swept loudly into the room. Four more teenagers entered, three of them helping the fourth to walk. Two ambulance attendants carried a stretcher with a sixteen-year-old girl on it. She was unconscious.