It was terrible to see him like this. He had always been such a powerful presence, even in his wheelchair. Kind of like Roosevelt, you know? But lying there on the floor, twisted in that awkward position, he seemed frail and helpless. I reached over to help him shift into a more comfortable position, but he swatted my hand away. “Get your lousy hands away from me, you dumb guinea!”

Whoa.

He had called me lots of things, but never the G-word. I didn’t know what to make of it, but now wasn’t a time I could really get angry. He tried to move by himself, and yowled in pain, letting loose a whole dictionary of cusswords.

Lexie, standing at the door, grimaced. “What happened? Did he fall again? Tell me, Anthony! Tell me everything that’s happening.”

“Nothing’s happening. He tried to move, but couldn’t.”

“Is he bleeding?”

“No.”

Then she hit her eyes with her palms and grunted. It was weird, but I knew exactly why she did it. It was frustration at her own blindness. She was smooth and confident when the world cooperated, but accidents were almost as uncooperative as her grandfather. “Isn’t there something we can do?”

Yes, there was. I went over to the medicine chest and opened it to reveal a whole pharmacy of medication. I quickly scanned the labels.

“What are you doing now?” Crawley asked.

“You need something for pain, and an anti-inflamatory,” I told him. I knew about that from the injuries we’ve had in my own family.

“So you’re my doctor now?”

“Yeah, Dr. DumGuinea, and I’m sending you one helluva bill.” I found what I was looking for, checked the labels for dosage and expiration date, and pulled out a pill from two different vials. Then I filled a glass with water from the sink and cautiously approached Crawley.

“What’s that?”

“Lodine and Vicodin,” I told him. “They prescribed these for you when you first broke your hip, right?”

“I don’t need it!” He pushed the glass away, spilling half the water on my shirtsleeve.

“Fine. Suit yourself.” I put the glass down on the counter with the pills, making sure he could see them. If he looked at them long enough, maybe he’d change his mind.

“They’re coming!” Lexie said. She heard the sirens long before I did. The last time I heard sirens here, it was the police coming for the Schwa and me.

When Crawley heard the approaching sirens, he groaned. “I don’t need this today!”

There was a knock at the door, and I hurried off to let in the paramedics. Instead, it was the Schwa, with an out-of-breath waiter holding Prudence by the collar.

“Hi, Antsy!” the Schwa said brightly, like this was the happiest place on Earth. “What’s up?”

“Don’t ask.”