I felt satisfied with how things went and more tired than I usually am after three rounds of work and my head throbbed a bit, but it wasn't a big deal. It was well worth the feeling I had from getting in the ring. It's hard to explain to someone who has never done it. It feels like a cleansing-like you just did something important. I'm sure it has something to do with exertion, which you get from all exercise. It also probably has something to do with the relief you feel from not getting hurt and having it over. Although those two together don't add up to the entirety of it. I think it has something to do with facing your demons. Facing what scares you the most and keeping on even when you don't have to. I know a very small percentage of the population is willing to do what we fighters do in the ring. To me anyway, that gives a person some rank. It's not the only way an individual gets rank, but it sure is one way. People who face what they're afraid of, I believe, are people of the strongest character.
Speaking of characters, it headed toward seven o'clock and time to give Karl a ride. I swung by the hospital and wound the El Dorado through the serpentine path to the parking garage. Parking garages weren't made for Cadillacs built in the middle of the seventies, so negotiating some of the turns wasn't much of a party. I got the $6.00 ticket for the privilege of picking up my friend recovering from an assault, and felt like another assault had just taken place, though this one was to my bank account. Inside the medical center I followed the arrows around to the area known as 'discharges.' In the room were about twenty people, most in wheel chairs, and most with one or two family members. Most of the non-patients had kind of a relieved look on their face as their loved one was deemed well enough to go home. Karl got wheeled into a corner by himself. He didn't look relieved at all. He nervously twitched and looked around like something bad was about to happen.
"Hey, Karl, how are you? Must be good to be going home."
"Duffy, what are you doing here?" He looked up at me.
"I came to give you a lift."
"Why?"
"I don't know. I heard you were being discharged and I figured you could use a ride."
"They just called the Mission."
"Huh? The Mission? I thought you had your own place?"
"Nope."
"But I had an address for you in the Westview Apartments."
"That was a lie."
"You didn't want to admit to being in the mission?"
"Yeah, but not because I was embarrassed like you think. I'm too vulnerable in there."
"The Mission can be a bit of nightmare but you got benefits. Why not let DSS get you an apartment?"
"Sure, get me on another government tracking system. That's just what they'd want."
"So are you going to the Mission?"
"To get out of here and then I'll go out for a walk and split."
"And wind up in the park and get your ass kicked again?"
"It's not the park that's getting my ass kicked. It's what I know." He looked out the window and then around the room.
"Shit, they could be right here. I'm such a fool!" Karl dropped his head into his hands and started crying. He cried so hard he shook. It was pathetic.
"You want to stay with me and Al?" I heard come out of my mouth.
Karl sniffled away some tears and looked up at me with a squint.
"What?"
"Stay at my place. It's not the Trump tower, it's a trailer, but if you can stand basset hound flatulence, it ain't half bad." Karl looked down, back up at me, and then down again.
"Why do you want me at your place?" He said it without the paranoid tone. It was more of a tone of disbelief.
"I don't know. You wanna come or not?" He snickered and smiled on one side of his face. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.
"The dog lives right inside with you?"
"Yeah."
"I'm in," Karl said.
I had no idea what had gotten in to me.
Karl signed a bunch of papers and I signed some more. I'm sure I had just released me and my heirs from every possible right under the sun and agreed to reimburse everyone in North America for all their expenses for the next fifty years. I had gotten over worrying about such things.
I wheeled Karl out to the curb and told him I'd pull the car around for him. He didn't object, mentioned something about still being a little weak in the legs. The problem was working my way around the labyrinth of a parking lot and finding where I had been. I walked up to the second level and couldn't find the El Dorado. Although I swore I'd parked it on the second level, the place was confusing enough that I thought I just might've been on the third level.
I headed to the stairwell and saw a soda machine. I went to get a diet Pepsi, but there was some sort of Army guy standing in front of the thing, apparently unable to decide between a Pepsi and a Mountain Dew. I guess after a few years of leaving the thinking up to someone else that sort of thing can happen.
I got to the third level of the garage. It didn't look familiar at all though that didn't really surprise me much, because I didn't pay attention to anything when I parked except for what level I was on. Two more guys in Army get-ups passed me. I figured somebody in the reserves must've got hurt doing weekend maneuvers or whatever it is they do.
I walked around level three for a few minutes and decided that wasn't right. So I headed back down the stairs. The three Army guys gathered around the soda machine talking, but they got quiet when I came down the stairs. Now all three of them stared at the soda machine, which seemed a bit odd.
"Hey fellas, there's no chance you guys saw an old orange El Dorado on any of these levels?" One of the guys grunted and none of them looked at me. I stood there kind of waiting for an answer. Finally, I just turned and went through the doorway to the second level.
As I stepped out of the door's threshold, a car came screaming around the tight turn of the garage, coming so close to me I had to jump back. As I jumped back I felt a sharp whack to the back of my head, like I banged my head against something. Everything went a little wobbly and when I turned, things were a bit murky. The pain was sharp and a weird wobbly feeling came over me. I looked up the three guys in fatigues stood in front of me. The one in the middle, the biggest guy of the three, threw a punch right square into the side of my head.
I went down and everything went black.