prance_legolas: (blood spilt)
[personal profile] prance_legolas
Laughter really is the best medicine, you know? I figure if you can laugh about something, no matter how bad it seems to be, you're gonna be okay in the long run. That’s my theory, and I’m sticking with it. ;~P

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Chapter 9 Hey, Legolas

Yes Dear and I exchange glances. “He said the right kidney,” Yes Dear assures me.

“Noe he deedn’t,” says Legolas. “I hav elf eerz, u noew.”

“Doesn’t really matter anyway,” I tell them both. “It isn’t hurting anymore, and that’s all that counts.”

We make it the rest of the way home without further incident, and together Yes Dear and Legolas manage to maneuver my drugged-up self into my warm, soft bed.

Yes Dear leaves the Prance in charge while he goes to pick up Lil’ Pip at school in my place. Of course, I don’t know this until I wake from my state of inebriation with the uneasy feeling that someone’s watching me. The sense comes to me a good while before I decide to open my eyes to investigate, and it’s quite shocking to wake from complete oblivion to find a pair of deep blue eyes staring at me not three inches from my own.

Startled, I pull back a bit. We must look like a pair of backward bookends, him lying on Yes Dear’s side of the bed on top of the covers facing me, and me underneath facing him, nose to nose. It’s not until I hear the snuffling sound that I realize he’s asleep.

“Hey, Legolas?” I whisper. The unfocused eyes snap to alertness as he instantly awakens.

“al? U okae?” he asks, pushing up onto one elbow.

“I’m much better now, thanks. What time is it?”

He rolls over and sits up, looking at the digital clock on Yes Dear’s side of the bed. “Tiem for Leedle Peep tu coem hoem frum skool,” he says.

As I leap up in a disoriented state of panic, he reassures me, “It’z okae, al. Yeas Deer weant tu git her.”

When Lil’ Pip gets home, she’s certainly not happy that Legolas got to go on “The Hospital Tour” and she had to stay at school.

“Hey, Legolas, why didn’t you come and get me?” she demands.

“It wuz FUEN, Leedle Peep!” Legolas chimes in, not making anything better. “Der wuz dis majik doar, an al goet stuek wid dis grate beeg neadel, an diz beeg masheen tuk her pikshur widouwt her skeen oen!”

“Momma, what’s he blabbering about now?” asks Lil’ Pip.

“I had an IV in my arm and they took some X-rays, that’s all. I’m all better now.”

We get through the evening without anything else of note happening, and I’m feeling well enough to think maybe the worst IS over and I really DID pass the stone already.

Morning comes. Lil’ Pip and Yes Dear head off to school and work while Legolas and I get our breakfast. Before long I’m back at the computer and he’s parked in front of his beloved Pee Bea Ess. I head out to the library a few hours later, after giving him clear instructions that he is NOT to watch TV all day.

Yeah, right. At least it makes me FEEL like I’ve tried to be responsible anyway.

All in all, it turns out to be a normal sort of Thursday. We don’t even have a lot of books to file at work, so I get in some extra time on my other projects. Before I know it, I’ve got just enough time to run home and get the Prance before school lets out.

He’s ready at the door, waiting to go. I swear riding in the car has GOT to be one of his favorite pastimes. We haven’t even pulled out of the driveway before he’s got the window cranked down and the radio cranked up. With his head hanging out and his blond hair flying in the breeze, he’s serenading the neighborhood singing along at the top of his lungs with The Cars, “I Like Da Niet Lief, Baybee.”

“Hey, Legolas,” I tell the back of his head, “one day a bug is gonna fly right up your nose while you’re doing that.”

“Noe it’z noet!” he shouts back without pulling his head in. Seconds later there’s a spluttering sound and he’s suddenly back in the car, coughing his lungs out.

“What happened?” I ask as I pound him between the shoulder blades.

“Dat bueg weant rite doewn my throet!” he chokes out. “Bie da Valar, I swaelloed a bueg hoel!”

Well, I won’t say I told him so....

Lil’ Pip is patiently waiting for us as we turn onto the school grounds and take our place in line to pick her up. Legolas, of course, hangs out the window and calls to her the second we pull into the line. It doesn’t matter that there are twenty other cars in front of ours and that my white van is the only white van that ever picks up a child from this particular school. Every single day, he still unbuckles his seatbelt and sits on the windowsill, waving madly and screeching, “LEEDLE PEEP! LEEDLE PEEP! WE’AR HEAR!”

Three-fourths of the school’s population is still waiting to be picked up, and just about every one of them waves back, yelling, “Hey Legolas!” All except Lil’ Pip, who puts the heel of her hand on her forehead in mock mortification. It’s the same scene as always, just a different day. That is, until we get about eight car lengths from our turn to pick her up. That’s when it hits me.

The pain is back.

The pressure is immediate, clenching my right side like an enormous cave troll has snatched me up and is taking a bite out of me. I grab my back with my right hand, fighting for breath as the waves of compression wash over me, almost rear-ending the car in front of us. I manage somehow to make it to the pick-up zone, and when Lil’ Pip opens the door, I gasp out, “HURRY!”

She leaps in, and we’re off. My only hope is to make it to the house while Yes Dear comes to meet us there to take me back to the hospital again. Frantically, I search my book bag there on the floor between the seats, finding my cell phone and handing it to Legolas.

“Call Yes Dear, quick!” I squeak out, forcing myself to concentrate on the road ahead.

“I dunnoe hoew!” blurts the Prance.

“I do!” shouts Lil’ Pip from the backseat. “Gimme that!”

In five minutes we’re back in our driveway, but to me those were the longest five minutes of my life. Well, aside from the very last five minutes it took for Lil’ Pip to finally make her entrance into the world some long ten years ago. Legolas helps me into the house, where I instantly hit the den floor on my knees, panting with the pain.

Lil’ Pip stands staring at me. “Momma, I don’t know what to do!” she stammers. She’s never seen me like this before in her whole life.

“I due!” shouts the Prance. “I’ll git it!” He leaves me where I’ve fallen and dashes to the bathroom. In seconds, he returns with a wet washcloth and the plastic trashcan, dropping onto his knees on the floor beside me and mopping my forehead while helping me hold the bucket.

“Iz dat bedder, al?” he asks.

“Thank you,” I gulp. “Hey, Legolas, there’s one more thing I need though,” I ask him.

“I’ll git it!” he whoops, jumping up from beside me and darting off down the hallway before I can tell him my request. He comes bounding back in a flash.

“Weel dese due?” he inquires, offering me the gift he holds in his hands. “Dey alwaez maek me feal bedder.”

The baby balrog britches.

I manage a smile as I take them from him. I was actually going to ask for a pair of thick socks because my feet always get cold at the hospital, but this gift from the heart is even more warming than socks could ever be. He closes his eyes and then turns his back so I can quickly trade jeans for elastic waist pants. No more bumped IV’s for me, not with Prance Helpful on duty.

Yes Dear arrives and loads us all back into the car for the ride over to the Emergency Room. When we pull up, he drops Legolas and me off while he and Lil’ Pip go to park the car. Before I can make it all bent over to the revolving door, the desk clerk and two of the nurses rush outside to help me through the doorway.

“Hey, Legolas,” purrs the blonde nurse.

“Mae Govannen, Mees Christina,” he greets her with a smile and a nod of his pretty head.

“I’m sorry you had to come back so soon,” says the desk clerk. I notice that when she says this, she’s NOT looking at me.

“Dat’s okae,” he says, “buet thaenk u eniwae.”

The other nurse just smiles and blushes, ducking her head and batting her eyelashes.

Prance Helpful indeed.

In less than ten minutes, I’ve left my sample in the bathroom once again and am having my blood drawn for labwork by a rather handsome, awfully young thing while I squirm on the stretcher and try not to make him mess up. When he’s finished bloodletting my arm of a grand total of four tubes, a nurse named Lisa comes in and has me lie down so she can start an IV in my left wrist, right by my thumb this time.

Looking around so I don’t have to think about what she’s doing, I notice that Legolas is standing quietly beside the chair in the corner of the room, watching the blood pressure monitor that’s periodically inflating on my arm. The one thing he’s NOT doing is looking while I’m getting stuck. Smart elf, that one.

After she gets the needle in, Lisa hangs the fluid bag and starts the IV dripping, then reaches into her pocket and pulls out the thing I’ve been waiting to see.

Pain medicine. Oh yeah, baby. (c al)

It’s not long before I’m still feeling the squeezing pressure but not caring a lick about it. I open my eyes to find Yes Dear and Lil’ Pip have made it to the room.

“Feeling better?” Yes Dear asks.

“Uh huh,” I manage to slur.

He laughs.

A few minutes later, I open my eyes again to find I’ve drifted off for who knows how long. Lil’ Pip has commandeered the chair—like father like daughter—and is vehemently reading away at her latest Nancy Drew novel. Yes Dear and Legolas are standing in the doorway, engaged in a rousing discussion of Peter Jackson’s interpretation of ‘The Lord of the Rings’ on film versus J.R.R. Tolkien’s books with a skinny little guy standing barely five feet tall.

Lisa comes over to check on me. “Are they bothering you?” she whispers. “I didn’t mean to begin a discussion, but when I asked about those pants you’re wearing, I seem to have started something.”

“No, they’re not bothering me,” I answer truthfully. I think a herd of Oliphaunts could dance the tango on my bed right now and I wouldn’t care. “I’m used to it.”

She smiles at me, and adds, “I haven’t seen the movie yet. I did read the books though, and I like the idea that those are Balrog britches.” She laughs and continues, “Tim’s one of our nurses, and he’s just crazy about the movie. He’s a big Frodo fan.” She pauses a second, watching the scene at the door, and says, “Personally, I’ve got the hots for Aragorn.” She winks. “Now I’m gonna run them all out of here for awhile so you can rest, and so I can get a lick of work out of Tim.”

She moves to the doorway, shooing Tim off and suggesting a trip for supper in the cafeteria might be a welcomed break for my family. I can hear Lil’ Pip’s stomach growl from here at the mere suggestion of food. She’s truly a hobbit at heart.

After about 45 minutes, they come back. Legolas is now sporting a small brown band-aid on the back of his left hand.

“Hey, Legolas, what happened to you?” I ask.

“Dat masheen tuuk my kaendee!” he growls.

I glance at Yes Dear and get a confirmation on this fact. He shrugs and tells me, “You really don’t wanna know.”

Well, that doesn’t matter, because Legolas decides he wants to tell me.

“Dis iz hoew it haeppind,” he begins. “We wear waelkin doewn da haell, an den....”

“Hey, Legolas, don’t you want to start with ‘Once Upon a Time’?” asks Lil’ Pip, taunting him.

“NOE,” he says, glaring at her and starting over. “We wear waelkin doewn da haell, an den....”

It seems the gist of the story is that when they arrived at the cafeteria, it was closed to visitors, as only employees are allowed during the dinner hour. The three food hunters made their way to the vending machines instead, intent on getting a sandwich and a drink and some chips for supper. Once they arrived, they each selected their meal and sat down with their purchases to eat.

All except Prance Helpful. But then you already expected that, didn’t you?

Prance Helpful decided that he didn’t want a sandwich for dinner, at least not an egg salad, or a ham and Swiss, or a turkey, or a pimento cheese one. Prance Helpful decides he’ll hold out until the cafeteria reopens about an hour from now and get himself a real hamburger. The smell of the grill is still making his mouth water as he relates his version of the story to me.

While he waits, he asks Yes Dear if he can have some money for a candy bar to tide him over. Not worried a bit about the Prance’s appetite, Yes Dear forks over a dollar from his wallet. Legolas inserts the money into the machine’s slot just like he does when he wants a Coke from the soda machine at the library where I work.

“I wuz luukin at all da kiendz of kaendee dey hav,” he tells me. “Dey haed Hearshee’z an Keet Kaetz an Aelmoend Joey an Meestr Guudbaerz an....”

“Mister Sweet Tooth had to have the M&M’s,” interrupts Lil’ Pip.

Legolas scowls at her. “Yeas, I deed,” he growls, “buet dis iz MY stoeree.”

“Fine,” she snaps back, lifting her hand to hide her giggle.

He turns back to me. “Eniwae, I deesided tu git da M an M’z. Soe I pueshd da bueddon, an da M an M’z droepd doewn jest like dey ar ‘spoez tu, buet dey goet cawght oen da leedle doar thaeng.”

He pauses, taking a deep breath.

“Did you get them out?” I prod, trying to advance the storyline a bit.

Lil’ Pip and her daddy both let out matching giggles. Legolas ignores them.

“I reechd my haend uep en dere tu trie tu git dem ouwt. Wile I wuz reechin....”

“His girlfriend came in,” announces Lil’ Pip.

“She’z NOET my gurlfraend!” retorts Legolas, clearly becoming irritated.

“This red-headed nurse comes in and she says, ‘Hey, Legolas,’ all soft and whispery-like. You shoulda seen him jump, Momma!” hoots Lil’ Pip.

“Her naem iz noet ‘Dis Nuers’. Her naem iz Shannon,” he defends.

“Shannon?” I ask from my position on the bed.

“Yaes. Mees Shannon. She wurkz en Eggs Rae.” He makes a face at Lil’ Pip and then rolls his eyes at the ceiling. “Eniwae, az I wuz saein, I wuz reechin tu git my M an M’z ouwt, an Mees Shannon caem en. She deedn’t hav enuf muney fur a dreenk an a kaendee baer, soe I sed she culd hav sum of my muney if she culd git it ouwt.”

“The money, or your hand?” I ask, not sure I’m following this tale clearly.

“Da muney!” he snaps, exasperated.

I picture him squatting down in front of the vending machine, left arm extended into the clear plastic drawer at the bottom, fumbling about trying to grasp a bag of M&M’s while a very pretty red-headed female in a low cut top and a really short white skirt wearing absolutely non-sensible heels bends way over and tries to dig fifty cents out of his pants pocket. This is sooooo not working for me.

“So what happened?” I ask, hoping to dispel THAT visual.

“Weel, I skootid ovur soe she culd git da muney ouwt of da masheen whur I haed leaft it, an whin I deed, my aerm goet stuk.”

Somehow, this visual is only slightly better.

“Tell her what happened next, Bumble,” Lil’ Pip crows.

“I culdn’t git ouwt, soe Yeas Deer weant tu da bafruum an goet sum soaep an reechd en dere an tryd tu sliek my aerm uep soe it wuld coem ouwt.”

He pauses, looking at the floor. “Dis iz soe embareassing,” he mutters.

“What else happened?” I ask.

“Weel, dat deedn’t wurk, soe Mees Shannon caeld da seekuratee gard maen. He tryd puellin oen me, buet dat deedn’t wurk eethr.”

“And...?” I beg, not willing to wait any longer for the end of this story.

“Momma, you’re not gonna believe THIS! The security guard called the maintenance man. He brought a screwdriver and had to take the whole front of the machine off to get Prance Helpful loose,” howls Lil’ Pip, clearly overcome with the giggling fits at this point.

“An whin I fiennalee goet my aerm bak, I haed a cuet oen my haend,” pouts the Prance.

“Miss Shannon fixed it up with a band-aid and a kiss!” snorts Yes Dear, joining Lil’ Pip in her laughing spell.

Prance Helpful just hangs his head.

Half an hour later they’ve gone back to their previous positions, with Lil’ Pip in the chair reading away and Yes Dear in the hallway talking with someone at the desk about discharging me. The elven archer stands silently at the foot of my bed, eyes once again on the blood pressure monitor. I suppose he’s using it as some sort of substitute TV.

“Hey, Legolas? What happened to the M&M’s?” I ask, since it’s evident I’m the only one here still playing with a full deck. Well, sort of a full deck.

“I gav dem tu Mees Shannon,” sighs Prance Helpful.

Now THAT’S my boy.
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