No Regrets
​
- 6 -
​
Over at the surgery, the doctor was conducting his daily examination of Heyes’ legs. So far, there was no sign of infection or gangrene, and the doctor was beginning to be hopeful that an amputation might not be necessary.
“Level with me, Doc.” Heyes said suddenly.
The doctor looked at him. “About what?” he asked.
Heyes stared at him for a long moment. “I’ve broken bones before.” he said presently, “They didn’t hurt like this. How bad is it?”
The doctor held his gaze for several seconds before straightening up and replacing the sheet over him. He had wanted to wait until he had gained a little more of his strength back before he told him of the battle he would have to recover. He was still very weak and it might seem an insurmountable battle in his present state. But the doctor knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t be fobbed off with evasive answers.
“Pretty bad.” he said finally, going on to explain exactly what injuries he had sustained.
“This leg was in such a state, I wanted to amputate, but Thaddeus and Lom persuaded me to try and save it.” he told him, “I can’t promise anything, there’s still a chance of infection occurring, but every day the risk gets less.” He paused momentarily, studying Heyes’ face as he tried to gauge his reaction, but his expression was unreadable.
“But” he continued presently, “even if you keep the leg, it’s going to be several months before you’ll be back on your feet, and even then, there’s no guarantee you will make a one hundred percent recovery. It depends on how the bones heal and whether any nerves and tendons are permanently damaged.”
“And if so?” Heyes asked gruffly.
The doctor shrugged. “You could suffer from loss of sensation in the feet or lower legs, stiffness and impaired mobility in the injured joints that could leave you needing sticks to walk.”
“Permanently?” Heyes croaked, shock now evident on his face.
“Possibly.” said the doctor, “You could also develop arthritis in the fracture sites.”
Heyes stared up at the ceiling, his expression anguished.
“But that’s a worse case scenario.” The doctor tried to temper his gloomy prognosis, “It’s possible you’ll make a good recovery if you take it slowly.” He carried on talking about strengthening exercises, but Heyes wasn’t listening. He was thinking back to his time at the Institute, of the punishing rehabilitation programme they’d put him through, of the hours of exercises he’d had to endure after his operation, to stimulate his nerves and muscles, of how hard he’d had to work, how exhausted it had left him, and of the tears he’d shed, alone in his room at night, when he’d believed he would never recover and be left an invalid, and in his present fragile physical and emotional state, the thought of having to go through it all a second time seemed an insurmountable task.
The doctor left the room to prepare for his morning clinic, leaving Heyes alone to brood on what he had told him.
Now that he was fully alert for the first time since being caught in the cave-in, the shock of what had happened finally hit him, triggered in part by the doctor’s words. He began to tremble violently as he recalled the long, pain filled hours he’d spent trapped under the rubble, in total darkness, and of how close he’d come to death. And even now it still wasn’t over. There was still a possibility that he might lose his leg, or be left crippled.
The more he thought about it all, the more depressed he became. It seemed so unfair what he’d had to endure these past few years, and now this. What had he done to deserve it, he wondered? O.K, so he had lived on the wrong side of the law, but he’d never harmed anyone, and had never taken from anyone who couldn’t afford to lose it. Surely that didn’t warrant this kind of punishment? They’d only begun thieving in the first place to survive after their parents’ murders had left them homeless.
For the Kid, Laura’s murder was like history repeating itself and, looking back, things seemed to have got worse, rather than better, since they decided to go straight. They’d tried so hard to make something of their lives, but seemed doomed to heartache and poverty, while other, unscrupulous, people seemed to make fortunes doing virtually nothing. What kind of God could allow that to happen? he asked himself. To let innocent people, like Laura and the baby, die, and people like himself and the Kid, who had tried to reform into good, honest citizens, suffer, while other, evil, people seemed to obtain fortune and contentment from wrongdoing. It just wasn’t right.
He silently cursed God for doing this to him, struggling, in his weakened state, to find the willpower to go on. It all seemed such a struggle. And for what? What if infection set in and his leg had to be amputated? He couldn’t live with that thought at all. He couldn’t envisage being permanently confined to a wheelchair, or being stuck with crutches for the rest of his life, unable to do even simple things, like walking, or riding a horse. The more he thought about it, the more horrifying it all became, and by the time Lom arrived to visit him at lunch time, he was distraught.
“Hi.” Lom smiled as he entered the room, “How are you feeling?”
Heyes was staring fixedly at the wall, lost in his melancholy thoughts, and didn’t reply.
Lom crossed to the bed, a frown creasing his brow. “Heyes?” he touched his shoulder.
Heyes shifted doe-like eyes to look at Lom, a look of desolation in their depths.
“What is it?” asked Lom, worried that he might be in worse pain, or feeling ill.
Heyes looked away, closing his eyes as he struggled to contain his emotions.
“What’s wrong? asked Lom, putting a hand on his shoulder.
Heyes lifted his hands to cover his face, as his emotions overcame him.
“I can’t… do it...” he choked, “Not again.”
“Hey, come on now…” Lom began, as Heyes broke down in tears, overwhelmed by the shock of the cave-in, the pain of his injuries, the worry of whether he would lose his leg, or be left a cripple, and the memories of his fight to regain his health following his earlier accident. Lom understood the reasons for his anguish, but he had never seen him like this and wasn’t sure how to handle the situation. He couldn’t even call on the doctor for moral support as he had gone off on a house call when Lom had come in.
“I know it seems an uphill struggle now,” he told him, “because you’re in pain, and weak from being sick. But, in a few days, when you’re stronger, you’ll feel more able to fight back.”
“For what?” croaked Heyes, his face still in his hands, “What is there… to go on for?
Lom was momentarily taken aback by his words. “Well, there’s the Kid for starters.” he said presently.
“He… doesn’t… need me.” Heyes ground out.
“Of course, he needs you.” retorted Lom, “You’re his best friend, the closest thing to a family that he’s got. He’d be devastated if anything happened to you. He dropped everything at the farm, to help dig you out of the cave in and to be here with you while you were sick, and he only went home today because he was forced to.”
Heyes shook his head. “He doesn’t need me… now he has the farm.” he croaked. Lom had told him about the Kid taking over the farm during one of their Friday night meetings at the saloon some months ago. “He doesn’t… need my help… and even if he did… I can’t… not since...” He broke off, overcome once more by the thought of his injuries and the struggle that lay ahead if he was to make any sort of recovery, “I can’t do it all again.” he choked, shaking his head in despair.
“Yes, you can.” Lom told him firmly.
Heyes dropped his hands now and turned his bleak gaze to Lom’s.
“For what?” he repeated, “For something else… to knock me down again?”
“You don’t know that.” said Lom, “I know you’ve had a fair run of bad luck, but you have to fight back. That’s what life’s all about.”
But Heyes was too distraught to appreciate Lom’s words, shaking his head in despair, “I… can’t…” he choked.
Lom sighed, reaching out a hand to squeeze his shoulder. “You’ll be fine.” he said quietly.
Heyes flinched from his touch.
“I was… so… scared…” he said suddenly, taking Lom by surprise, “…down there… alone… in the dark.”
“Anyone would be.” said Lom, realizing he was talking about the mine.
“And… the pain… was so bad...” Heyes continued, “I… prayed… to God… for someone to rescue me…”
“And your prayers were answered.” Lom told him, “Ten people died in that cave-in.”
“It’s such… a waste…” Heyes croaked a few moments later, “a criminal waste. If they hadn’t tried to increase profits... by cutting back on safety…” he shook his head, “none of those men… would have died… and… I…” his voice caught, “…wouldn’t be lying here now… like this…” he broke off, dropping his face into his hands once more.
“Heyes…” Lom reached out to squeeze his shoulder once more in a gesture of comfort, but Heyes flinched away.
After a moment Lom got up and quietly left the room, having decided it was better to leave him alone to work his way through his feelings.
When the doctor returned, Lom explained what had happened, and they went in to see him, but he had fallen into an anguished sleep.
Lom could understand Heyes’ feelings. It must indeed have seemed to him as though every time he got back on his feet and got his life back on track, something else came along to knock him down again, and he could understand his despondency. But he had so much to look forward to if he could only see it. He had a job, which he would still be able to do even if he didn’t make a full recovery from his injuries, and he had the talent to become a good lawyer if he stuck with it. He had friends to support him, and a home for as long as he wanted with the Kid. Although he might feel that life had been hard on him, which it had to a certain extent, he was still a good deal more fortunate than many. Illiteracy, unemployment and poverty were common. Few people enjoyed the luxury of a steady job with good prospects and often had a hard time feeding and housing their families, spare cash, for new clothes or socialising, non-existent. Although Heyes and the Kid had suffered hardships during their childhood years and since going straight, during their outlaw days they had enjoyed an affluent lifestyle, with plenty of money for clothes, drinking, gambling and women, things the average man could only dream of.
The doctor examined him while he slept. “His temperature is a little high,” he told Lom, “but that’s probably because he’s agitated.”
How are his legs?”
“Doing surprisingly well.” said the doctor, “He seems to be a fast healer, and so far, there’s no sign of any infection.” ​
When Heyes woke up, Lom went in to see him.
“How are you feeling now?” he asked.
Heyes lifted his shoulders in a shrug, refusing to meet his eyes.
“Are you in much pain?” Lom asked.
“A bit…” Heyes muttered. Lom knew he was understating how much his legs hurt, seeming unwilling to admit it after his earlier emotional outburst.
“The Doc says your legs are healing well and that so far there’s no sign of infection.” Lom told him hoping to boost his spirits. But Heyes showed no enthusiasm for his words.
He managed a little soup and bread for supper, but Lom could get little in the way of conversation out of him and so, at eight o’clock, he bid him goodnight and headed home, leaving the doctor to look after him. He felt guilty for admitting it, but he was relieved to have got away early. Whatever he had said to Heyes had been met with sullen indifference. Lom knew it was because he was depressed about the future, but he couldn’t seem to find a way to lift his spirits.
​
Lom got to work early the next day and waited for the Kid to arrive, whereupon he hurried outside to stop him before he entered the surgery.
“Kid.” He called.
The Kid turned, looking surprised to see him in his office before nine in the morning. It was only just after eight thirty.
“You’re early.” he smiled. Then his expression clouded, “Is Heyes alright?” he asked, worried that his condition might have worsened.
“Physically, yes.” said Lom, “The Doc says he’s doing O.K.”
“So, what’s wrong?” the Kid asked, sensing that Lom was anxious about something.
“Come to my office.” Lom said, leading the way.
The Kid followed, a pensive frown on his face.
Once inside, Lom told him what had happened the previous afternoon.
“When I asked him how he was, he just broke down.” he told him, “He kept saying that he couldn’t face going through all that rehabilitation again and that he had nothing to go on for. I couldn’t console him at all. He said every time he gets back on his feet something knocks him down again, and that it just wasn’t worth the effort. He’s convinced he’s going to lose his leg, or be a cripple, and he thinks he’s of no use to anyone. He thinks you don’t need him any more.”
“That’s crazy.” said the Kid.
“We know that,” said Lom, “and so does he, deep down, but, right now, he’s so screwed up he can’t see it. I think the shock of what happened at the mine has only just hit him. He was rambling about how terrified he was trapped down there, and saying what a criminal waste it was that people had died and he, and others, had been injured because of the company’s greed.” Lom sighed, “He’s confused, and very depressed. I thought I’d warn you, to give you a chance to try and coax him out of it.”
“I don’t know what I can do.” said the Kid.
“You know better than anyone what he’s going through right now.” said Lom, “You’ve been there yourself.”
The Kid’s face clouded at Lom’s reference to Laura’s death, and the effect it had had on him.
“I know how he’s feeling,” he acknowledged presently, “but I don’t know what I can do to help him. The only thing that’s going help is knowing that he’s going to get better, and it’s going to be some time before we know that.”
“Yeah, but if he doesn’t get his mind right, he isn’t going to get better.” said Lom, “He needs every ounce of courage, willpower and determination he has if he’s going to recover. If his heart’s not in it, he’ll never walk again.”
The Kid nodded agreement, but didn’t see how he could inspire him to fight. He knew only too well the feelings Heyes was suffering, and how difficult it was to get over them.
At the surgery, the doctor had just given Heyes some breakfast, which he’d only picked at, and when the Kid walked into the room, he was sitting back amongst his pillows, gazing vacantly out of the window.
“Hi.” He said cheerfully, as he approached the bed. After a good night’s sleep he felt much more refreshed.
Heyes turned to look at him with a bleakness in his eyes that the Kid had never seen before. Heyes had always been an optimist, a fighter who would move heaven and earth to achieve a desired goal and to see him so despondent chilled the Kid to the bone.
“How are you feeling today?” he asked, as he sat down on a chair by the bed.
Heyes shrugged, dismissively.
“What’s up? Cat got your tongue?” the Kid teased.
Heyes shrugged again.
“Heyes.” the Kid said reproachfully, “Talk to me.”
“What about?” Heyes replied flatly.
“Anything.”
“Let me see…” began Heyes, “What would be a good topic of conversation? I know… how about discussing ways of adapting your farmhouse to accommodate a wheelchair?” he said bitterly, “Or, better yet, how about ‘after care for amputations’?”
“Come on, Heyes, you don’t know any of that is going to happen.”
“Don’t I?” Heyes replied sullenly.
“No.” said the Kid, “Unless that’s how you want it to be.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” snapped Heyes.
“I’m not. If you think negatively, negative things happen. You’ve said that to me often enough. If you think you’re going to end up in a wheelchair, you will. But if you think positively, all sorts of things can happen. After your brain operation, you recovered much more than anyone believed you would, simply because you wouldn’t accept anything less. There’s no reason for it to be any different this time. You just have to have faith in yourself.” The Kid studied his face as he stared out of the window, his expression anguished.
“Heyes?” he prompted when he gave no response.
Heyes closed his eyes and drew in a breath which he released in a deep sigh, shaking his head to himself.
Opening his eyes, he turned to look at the Kid.
“I’m just… so… tired…” he said wearily, “of struggling… to get back on my feet… to be knocked down again…” He shook his head. “I can’t go through it all again. I just… can’t, Kid…” He broke off as his voice faltered.
The Kid leaned forward and put a hand on his forearm.
“Yes, you can.” he told him, “You don’t think so now because you’re weak and still in shock. But in a few days, when you’re stronger, things won’t seem so impossible.”​
But Heyes looked unconvinced.
“I know how you’re feeling.” the Kid told him, “I’ve been there too remember, when Laura was killed. I didn’t want to go on then. But I made it, with your support, and Lom’s,” He stared levelly into Heyes’ eyes, “and you will too.” he said firmly, “Trust me. O.K?”
Heyes stared uncertainly at him. The Kid could tell he wanted to believe him, but couldn’t yet.
“Your legs weren’t smashed.” he countered.
“No, my whole life was.” replied the Kid, “I lost everything. Laura, the baby, our home, my livelihood. I couldn’t even begin to think how to start over. You’re lucky. Ben Walters is going to keep your job open for you. You’ve got a good job to look forward to when you qualify as a lawyer. You have friends. You have a life. It’s just waiting for you to get back to it. And you will. If I could do it, so can you. You’re stronger than I ever was.”
Heyes stared at him for a long moment, his eyes bright with tears. He knew what the Kid was trying to say, but he also knew that, while the Kid may have learned to function again, he hadn’t totally recovered from Laura’s murder. The scars were still there.
“I’ll try.” he muttered finally.
“That’s all I ask buddy.” smiled the Kid.
And Heyes did try, although it wasn’t easy. Confined to bed, he was stiff and sore, his legs hurt constantly, and he suffered from cramps, from being immobile, insomnia, due to the fact that he wasn’t expending any energy and therefore not tired, which in turn gave him headaches after spending half of each night wide awake. He hated having to be bathed and cared for by others, and was thoroughly sick of staring at the same four walls. To make matters worse, the weather had been unusually hot and humid, making him short tempered and snappy.
Halfway through his six week confinement, he jumped down Lom’s throat, one afternoon, over some trivial remark he’d made, before hurling a book across the room in frustration which narrowly missed breaking the window.
Lom moved to pick up the book without saying a word, setting it down on the bedside cabinet before moving to sit down on a chair by the door. Leaning back, he folded his arms and eyed Heyes’ reproachfully.
After several moments, Heyes sighed deeply. “I’m sorry.” he said quietly. Then, raking his hands up through his hair in frustration he said, “Being stuck here is driving me crazy. I can’t stand another three weeks of this.” his tone desperate.
“How about I bring in your law books and you can do a bit of studying?” Lom suggested, hoping that would keep his mind occupied.
Heyes agreed, but he was too uncomfortable to be able to concentrate on them and threw them aside in frustration.
* * *
​
After six weeks, the doctor declared that the fractures had healed enough for him to remove the splints from the upper part of his legs, which meant that he would at least be able to get out of bed and sit in a wheelchair, although he didn’t want to remove the rest of the splints for another three weeks to make absolutely sure that the factures were completely healed.
Knowing that Heyes was going stir crazy stuck at the doctor’s surgery, Lom volunteered to have him move back out to his place for those three weeks, since the Kid was busy at the farm and couldn’t be with Heyes all day. Lom had some leave due to him which would give him time to look after Heyes, relieving the doctor of the task.
Heyes didn’t like the idea of Lom giving up his vacation time to look after him, but Lom insisted.
“Unless you’d rather stay here?” he grinned at Heyes, who hurriedly agreed to Lom’s offer, not wanting to stay at the doctor’s surgery a minute longer than necessary.
Lom brought his wagon down the next day and they manoeuvred Heyes onto a stretcher and loaded it into the back of the wagon, surrounding him with pillows to cushion him from the bumps on the ride to Lom’s cabin.
Once there, Heyes had wanted to sit in the wheelchair that the doctor had sent up for him, but the doctor insisted he spend the remainder of that day in bed. “Remember what I said about taking things slowly?” he told him, “You’ve had enough for one day, being jiggled about in that wagon. Rest up for today. You can get up tomorrow.”
“But…” Heyes began to protest.
“Tomorrow." The doctor spoke over him.
Heyes sighed resignedly. “Whatever you say.” he muttered.
The doctor smiled at his sullen expression. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” he told him, before taking his leave.
The following morning, the doctor returned and, after an examination of Heyes’ legs, straightened up and turned to look at him.
“Can you lift this leg?” He touched Heyes’ left leg.
Heyes couldn’t see why he was asking the question until he tried to comply. After six weeks of complete immobility, his muscles had wasted and it took every ounce of strength to lift his leg three inches off the bed.
He let it back down with a sigh.
“Try this one.” The doctor touched his right leg.
Heyes tried, managing to lift it only one inch.
“Don’t worry.” said the doctor, seeing his expression, “It’s a normal reaction. Muscles lose their strength after a long period of immobility. With exercise they’ll recover. Do you want to try getting up?”
Heyes nodded.
The doctor pulled the wheelchair up alongside the bed, and then he and Lom put a hand under each of Heyes’ thighs and, linking hands around his back, they lifted him out of bed and into the wheelchair. The Kid, who had come over earlier that morning to provide moral support, hovered nearby.
“How’s that?” asked the doctor.
“Weird.” said Heyes, lifting a hand to his face as his head began to swim, “I feel… a little…” he began, but got no further as he passed out, slumping over the arm of the wheelchair.
“What the…” Lom took a step forward.
“It’s alright.” the doctor put out a hand to halt him, “He’s been flat on his back for so long, suddenly being moved upright affects the balance and the blood pressure.” He bent over his bag and withdrew some smelling salts. Lifting Heyes back up into a sitting position, he wafted the phial under his nose.
Heyes recoiled from the pungent smell and opened his eyes.
“Wh-what… happened?” he croaked, holding his head in his hand.
“You passed out.” said the doctor.
“I did?” Heyes looked astonished.
“Don’t worry. You’ve been on your back for so long, you had a sudden rush of blood to the head when you sat upright. It’s quite a normal reaction. How do you feel?”
“Dizzy… and a little sick.” Heyes muttered.
“It’ll pass in a while. Here, drink this.” The doctor handed him a glass of water, which Heyes took with one hand, still holding his head with the other.
“Right,” The doctor continued, “You can get about in this chair now, but be careful. You mustn’t put any weight on your legs at all, and try not to bang or twist them. They’re still petty fragile.” He glanced at Lom and the Kid, “I don’t see the need for me to visit again until it’s time to remove the other splints, but if you have any problems, send for me.”
Lom nodded.
“Sure thing, Doc.”
“Well, I’ll be off then.” The doctor looked at Heyes, “I’m sure you’re glad to be mobile again,” he told him, “and I’m looking forward to sleeping in my own bed again.” he added with a grin.
Heyes put the now empty glass down on the dresser by the side of the wheelchair and lifted his gaze to the doctor’s face.
“Thanks for all you’ve done, Doc.” he said, extending his hand to him.
“No problem.” smiled the doctor as he shook hands.
Lom escorted the doctor out and the Kid moved to sit on the edge of the bed at Heyes’ side.
“You O.K?” he asked.
“Yeah.” nodded Heyes, although his face was still a little pale.
“How about a bit of sunshine?” the Kid suggested.
Heyes nodded. “No point being mobile if I’m going to say indoors.” he said.
The Kid got up and made to go behind the chair to push him out onto the porch, but stopped when Heyes said sharply, “I can manage. I have done this before.”
“O.K.” The Kid backed off and went instead to open the bedroom door. Heyes wheeled himself past him into the kitchen and outside onto the porch manoeuvring himself into a sunny spot and applying the brake. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath of the fresh morning air, letting it out in a deep sigh as he tilted his face up to the sun.
“Feels good, huh?” grinned the Kid.
Heyes nodded. “After being cooped up in that surgery, it’s like escaping from jail.”
Just then, Lom returned from seeing off the doctor.
“How are you doing?” he asked with a smile.
“I feel a bit better now.” said Heyes.
Lom went inside and returned with a blanket, which he carefully placed around his legs. Although it was a sunny day, Heyes was only wearing a nightshirt, since he couldn’t get any clothing over the splints on his legs, and after six weeks confined to bed indoors would be susceptible to catching cold.
The Kid stayed for another couple of hours before announcing that he had to get back to the farm.
“Will you be O.K?” he asked Heyes.
“Of course I will.” retorted Heyes.
“I’ll be back the day after tomorrow.” the Kid told him, “Is that alright?”
Heyes smiled. “Sure.”
“I just don’t want you to think I’m deserting you.” the kid said, pointedly.
Heyes’ expression became serious once more.
“I don’t.” he told him, “Come when you can. I know how much work you’ve got on just now with harvesting and stuff.
“You take care.” said the Kid, getting to his feet and turning to leave.
“Kid.” Heyes called.
The Kid turned back to look at him. “Yeah.”
“Thanks… for giving me a kick up the backside... you know... what you said… about fighting back… and the things I’d got to be thankful for…" he shrugged, “I don’t think I’d have made it this far without that…”
The Kid smiled. “Sure you would.” he told him. Then, with a reassuring wink, he turned and strode away.​
* * *
​
Heyes spent the remainder of the morning out on the porch, enjoying the fresh air and sunshine after weeks of being cooped up indoors.
Later, Lom fixed lunch and they ate it outside on the porch.
“Do you need anything?” Lom asked, as he picked up their plates to take them back inside.
“No, I’m O.K.” said Heyes, “Anyway, if I need anything, I can come and get it myself.” he added, with a pointed look to Lom.
“I keep forgetting.” smiled Lom, patting Heyes on the shoulder. He went back inside to do the dishes, leaving Heyes outside to enjoy the afternoon sun.
Lom went out to sit with him later, but Heyes seemed preoccupied, his mind elsewhere, and didn’t seem inclined to chat, so Lom left him alone, just keeping a periodic eye on him through the kitchen window.
He stayed out there for the rest of the afternoon, and when Lom had fixed their evening meal he went to the door and called “Supper’s ready.” before going back inside, resisting the urge to offer to help him. Heyes was used to using a wheelchair. He’d spent months in one during his time at the Institute, and would be intimidated if he offered to push him in it.
Heyes wheeled himself into the kitchen and manoeuvred the chair up to the table. Lom placed a plate in front of him and sat down opposite with his own.
​
They chatted amiably as they ate, about the Kid and his workload at the farm, about the doctor and his dedication to Heyes’ case, sleeping in his surgery for the last six weeks in order to care for him, and about the various people who’d called in to visit him during the past few weeks; Ben Walters, Jamie and Charles Inglewood from the Courthouse, Bill Jenkins, and other people, like Henry Winters, who they knew vaguely from the saloon, and Chuck Landon, the Foreman of the mine, who neither Heyes or the Kid had ever met before, but who, with the Kid’s help, had risked his life to rescue him from the mine shaft.
“Everyone’s been very kind.” said Heyes, “Bill Jenkins kept apologizing for my getting hurt as though it was his fault.”
After supper they sat around the fire with a glass of whisky, talking over old times, when they’d all ridden together as outlaws, but when Lom asked him about his future plans Heyes refused to discuss the subject, and Lom guessed, correctly, that it was because he wasn’t planning that far ahead right now, just concentrating on getting through each day as it came. If he allowed himself to think about what could happen, it depressed him, so he closed his mind to it.
At eight o’clock Heyes said “I’m tired. I think I’ll turn in. Will you help me get into bed?”
“Sure.” Lom was surprised at him wanting to retire so early, but then, after six weeks of lying in bed doing nothing, today had been pretty exhausting.
Heyes wheeled himself into the bedroom and alongside the bed, while Lom pulled back the bed covers before moving to Heyes’ side.
“Hold onto me.” He told him, bending over the wheelchair.
Heyes put his arms around his neck and Lom put one arm around his back and another beneath his thighs and hoisted him out of the chair. Turning, he carefully laid him on the bed, being careful not to drop his legs down onto it. Heyes eased back onto the pillows, while Lom carefully lowered his legs down onto the mattress, discarding the heavy bedspread and pulling the sheet and a light blanket over him.
“O.K?” he asked, a little breathless from the exertion of lifting him.
“I’m alright.” said Heyes, “Are you? I’m too heavy for you to haul around on your own.”
“Don’t worry about me.” smiled Lom, “See you tomorrow.”
Heyes nodded. “Thanks, Lom. Goodnight.”
Heyes was tired after his first day out of bed, but he slept badly, plagued by flashbacks of the cave-in and nightmares about being left crippled. He writhed about restlessly as, through his dreams, he recalled those hours of agony trapped under the rubble in the mine. Then he was standing in the doctor’s surgery, propped up on crutches. The doctor was ordering him to walk, but when he tried to take a step, his legs shattered into pieces beneath him and he was falling. Then he was helpless on the floor and the doctor’s voice was booming “Walk. You know you can do it. Walk… walk.” and he was crying that he couldn’t, but the voice kept on booming “Walk… walk…”
“Heyes!” Lom’s voice woke him with a start. He opened his eyes to see him standing over him, having been woken by Heyes crying out.
Still only half awake, Heyes lifted himself up to look at his legs, his eyes full of terror, still in the grip of the nightmare and believing that they were gone.
“It’s alright.” Lom soothed, pushing him back down onto the pillow.
“My… legs…” choked Heyes.
“It’s alright.” Lom repeated.
Heyes looked about him in confusion. “Where am I…?” he asked, still thinking he was in the doctor’s surgery.
“You’re in my cabin. You were having a bad dream. Just relax.” Lom told him
Heyes closed his eyes and lifted his hands to cover his face. “Oh, God…” he groaned, raking his hands up through his hair, before opening his eyes and shaking his head to himself.
“It’s alright. It’s over now.” said Lom, “You just relax while I fix you a drink.”
He left the room and returned a short while later with a mug of cocoa, which he thought would relax him more than coffee or alcohol.
“Here, drink this.” he commanded.
Heyes returned from his reverie and manoeuvred himself into a sitting position, taking the mug from Lom with a trembling hand and sipping it. Normally, Heyes hated cocoa, but he passed no comment as he sipped it, still shaken from the nightmare.
Lom perched on the edge of the bed.
“You O.K. now?” he asked worriedly.
Heyes nodded slowly. “What time is it?”
“One thirty.” replied Lom.
“I’m sorry if I woke you.” Heyes muttered.
“That’s O.K.” said Lom. “Want to talk about it?”
Heyes shook his head.
“O.K.” Lom backed off, seeing that he was deeply upset by whatever he had dreamt about.
“Finished?” he asked presently, nodding to the cup in his hand.
“Yeah. Thanks.” muttered Heyes, handing him the cup and sliding back down the bed.
“Right. Well, you try and get some sleep.” said Lom, “If you need anything, just call, O.K?” He turned to turn out the lamp, but Heyes said sharply, “No… leave it on.”
“O.K.” Lom straightened up, “Goodnight.” Turning he left the room and returned to bed. Heyes however, lay awake late into the night thinking.
He had been deeply shocked to find out just how weak his legs were and realized that recovery was going to take a long time and a lot of work, more even than after his first operation, and he didn’t know if he had the strength to persevere. He was also shaken by the flashbacks he’d suffered repeatedly ever since the cave-in, of being trapped in the mine in the darkness, and by the effect they had on him, bringing him out in a cold sweat and uncontrollable trembling. He couldn’t face the thought of ever going inside a mine shaft ever again, hating himself for his cowardice but totally at the mercy of his emotions.
It was almost dawn when he finally fell asleep, and then slept almost until noon, when Lom fixed him a late breakfast, and then asked him if he wanted to get up.
“I guess.” muttered Heyes, drawing raised eyebrows from Lom. Yesterday, he hadn’t been able to wait to get out of bed. Now he didn’t seem to care one way or the other.
“Do you want to wash and shave first?” Lom suggested.
Heyes nodded. “Yeah, but I’ll try and do it myself.” He told him. Up until now he’d had to have someone help him.
“O.K.” said Lom. He went to fetch some hot water and poured some into the wash basin and then placed it on the bedside cupboard along with soap, towel, razor and a mirror. He then helped Heyes to swing round and sit on the edge of the bed so that he could reach them.
“O.K.” he asked.
“Fine.” said Heyes without looking at him.
“Call if you need anything, and be careful you don’t fall.” said Lom before leaving the room.
Heyes managed to wash and shave and then combed his hair before putting on the fresh nightshirt that Lom had left on the bed, wishing he could wear his clothes. He felt stupid wearing what looked like a woman’s frock, but there was no way he could get pants on over the splints on his legs.
He felt a little better for having managed to perform his own ablutions, but still felt pretty depressed about the future.
He called to Lom who came and lifted him into the wheelchair and then he wheeled himself out onto the porch.
He was quiet and withdrawn all day, and Lom fretted about him, worried in case he was sickening for something.
As they ate supper that evening, Heyes suddenly said, “I’ve been thinking.”
“Oh?” said Lom.
Heyes nodded. “I’d… like to go back to the Institute.”
Lom paused with his fork halfway to his mouth, completely taken aback by Heyes’ words. Not only had he no idea that Heyes had even thought about it, he was surprised that he would suggest it himself. Although he was grateful for what they’d done for him at the Institute, he had made no secret of the fact the he had hated the regimented regime and all the work he’d had to put in.
“You would?” he said presently.
Heyes nodded. Then, with a sigh, he said, “I’m going to need some help to get back on my feet.”
“You’ve got the Kid, and me, and the doctor.” said Lom, “We’ll give you all the help we can.”
“I know.” Heyes smiled briefly, “And it’s good to have your support... but… I need professional help… I can’t do it on my own.”
When Lom made no comment Heyes continued, “When the Doc asked me to lift my legs up yesterday, I thought he was crazy until I tried. I couldn’t believe how weak they were.” He shook his head, “I need the kind of treatment I had at the Institute.” He looked at Lom now, “I don’t want it, believe me… It nearly killed me last time… But I need it, if I’m going to have any chance of recovering.” He paused momentarily, gazing out of the window, “I have a fair bit of money saved up,” he continued presently, “so I should be able to pay for it.” He turned to Lom now, “Will you wire Doctor Deveraux and see if he’ll take me?” he asked.
Lom studied him momentarily. It was obvious he’d thought about it a great deal, and despite not liking the idea, believed it was the best thing for him, and Lom had to admit he was probably right.
“If you’re sure it’s what you want, yes, of course.” he told him.
Heyes nodded. “I’m sure.”
The next morning, Lom went into town to wire Doctor Deveraux, asking for a reply by return. Thirty minutes later, the reply came back.
“Lom. Nice to hear from you. Sorry to hear of Joshua’s accident. Without examining him, cannot give prognosis for recovery, but if he wants to come here we will certainly do our best for him. Hope to see you too. Regards, David Deveraux.”
Lom smiled as he read it. He and Doctor Deveraux had become firm friends during Heyes’ time at the Institute and had kept in touch with periodic letters, but he hadn’t seen him since the day he’d collected Heyes from the Institute and had missed their chats.
He went back home to tell Heyes the news.
“How soon can we leave?” asked Heyes.
“Well, I want to speak to Doc Simpson first, to see if he thinks you’re up to the journey.” Lom told him, “I’ll go see him later when the Kid gets here.”
​
The Kid arrived just after lunch, saying that he could stay until the next morning.
Lom left them to talk and rode into town to see the doctor.
“What do you think, Doc?” Lom asked after he’d told him what Heyes wanted to do, “Is he up to the journey?”
“Well” the doctor said thoughtfully. “I agree, it would probably be good for him to go there, and if he’s careful, he should be O.K. to travel, but he still needs another couple of weeks to be sure the factures are totally healed, and I wouldn’t recommend he travel much before that time. Nor would it be wise to remove the splints before travelling. They’ll give him some extra support.”
Lom nodded agreement. “I’ll wire Doctor Deveraux and tell him he’ll arrive in two weeks then. Will you come and supervise the best way for him to travel?”
​
“Of course.”
“Thanks, Doc. You’ve been great.”
Lom rode back to tell Heyes what the doctor had said. Heyes was disappointed, since he wanted to go straight away now that he’d made his mind up, but he could see the logic of the doctor’s words.
“There’s just one thing.” He told Lom and the Kid as they shared a glass of whisky around the fire that evening, “I don’t want either of you to visit me while I’m there.”
Lom and the Kid exchanged glances.
“Why not?” asked Lom.
“Yeah. You went crazy last time because I didn’t visit you.” said the Kid.
“I know.” said Heyes, “But this time, I want to concentrate purely on my recovery, with no distractions. Not seeing you will give me an… incentive… to get back here and catch up on all the gossip.” he joked.
Neither Lom nor the Kid believed his reasons, but it seemed to mean a lot to him so they agreed.
After they’d helped Heyes to bed, Lom and the Kid discussed it over a glass of scotch.
“Why do you think he doesn’t want us to visit him?” asked the Kid.
Lom swirled his scotch around in his glass thoughtfully.
“I think he’s scared.” he said presently, “Scared that he’s not going to recover fully, and he doesn’t want us to see him struggle.”
“Yeah.” sighed the Kid, “I was thinking pretty much the same.”
Heyes seemed in better spirits the next day, getting up and wheeling himself to the table for breakfast instead of having it in bed as he had done up until now, chatting amiably to the Kid about the farm as they ate.
The Kid left at lunch time, promising to visit again in a few days.
* * *
​
A couple of days before they were due to travel to Cheyenne, Doctor Simpson came up to examine Heyes and to advise on their travel arrangements.
“Well, Doc, how am I doing?” asked Heyes as the doctor examined him.
​
The doctor straightened up, nodding encouragingly.
“O.K.” he told him. He produced a large brown envelope from his bag, which he handed to Lom, “These are his case notes, and my recommendations. They’ll be useful to plan a rehabilitation programme.”
Lom took the envelope.
“So, what’s the best way to travel?” he asked the doctor.
“Well, I would make up a bed in the back of your wagon, and then, when he’s comfortable, get several pillows and place them on either side, underneath and in between his legs to cushion him from the bumps.”
Lom nodded.
“Make sure they read my notes before they do anything. Otherwise, they may assume that he can stand, and” he turned to Heyes now, “you won’t be able to do that until you’ve done some work on your leg muscles.”
Heyes nodded solemnly. “I know.”
“I’ll make sure.” said Lom.
The doctor finalized a few other details before wishing Heyes good luck and bidding him farewell, with an instruction to come and see him when he was back on his feet.
“I will.” Heyes tried to sound positive, but it was obvious that he was by no means convinced of recovering.
The Kid came over the next day, intending to stay until their departure the following morning. He had planned to travel with them but Heyes had told him not to bother, with being so busy at the farm.
“I’ll have Lom with me. I’ll be fine.” he replied in response to the Kid’s protests.
They stayed up late, talking, since it would be several months before they would see each other again.
“Are you sure you don’t want us to visit?” asked the Kid.
“No.” Heyes replied firmly, “I just want to get on with it, with no distractions.”
“As you wish.” sighed the Kid.
The next day, they followed the doctor’s instructions and after settling Heyes in the back of Lom’s wagon, placed several pillows around and underneath him to protect him from the bumps on the road. Then they loaded their supplies for the two day trip, and Heyes’ wheelchair. They had also packed Heyes’ clothes, since he would have the splints removed after his arrival at the Institute and would be able to wear them again.
Lom went to lock up, leaving Heyes and the Kid to say their farewells.
“You take care now.” the Kid told him, “Don’t rush things.”
“I’ll try.” said Heyes, “And don’t you get overdoing it either. You could do with another hand now you know.”
“I know.” replied the Kid, “But I can’t afford to take on anyone else just yet. Maybe next year.”
“Well, just be careful.”
The Kid nodded. “You will come back?” he said suddenly. It had occurred to him that if Heyes didn’t make a good recovery, he might just leave and go off on his own, rather than face them.
Heyes stared at him for a long moment before finally nodding. “I will.” he said quietly.
The Kid held out his hand, and Heyes took it.
“Be sure you do.” the Kid told him, as he shook his hand, gazing intently into his eyes.
Lom returned just then, and taking the Kid’s arm, walked him away a few paces. “Don’t worry, I’ll see he’s looked after properly before I leave.” he told him, out of Heyes’ earshot, “I’ll be back in five or six days and I’ll come and tell you how it went.”
“Thanks, Lom.” said the Kid.
Lom climbed up on the wagon and shouted, “O.K?” to Heyes, who called back “Yeah.”
Then they set off, and the Kid rode off in the opposite direction back to the farm.
​
Heyes had thought the doctor was being over cautious in suggesting they surround him with pillows to protect his legs, but after the end of the first day’s journey, his legs, and indeed his whole body, ached from the bumping of the wagon over the rough dirt roads.​
“How do you feel?” Lom asked as they ate supper, Heyes still in the back of the wagon, Lom perched on the edge.
“A bit sore.” Heyes conceded.
“It is pretty bumpy.” Lom acknowledged. “I’m trying to keep to the flattest parts, but it’s not always possible.”
“It’s O.K.” said Heyes.
​
​
By the time they arrived at the Institute late the following afternoon, Heyes was exhausted. After six weeks confined to bed and another three just sitting around Lom’s cabin in the wheelchair, the long, bumpy journey in the hot sun had taken its toll on him.
Lom unloaded the wheelchair and then supported Heyes’ legs while he manoeuvred himself to the edge of the wagon before picking him up and setting him in it.
“O.K?” he asked as he covered Heyes’ legs with a blanket.
Heyes nodded, but Lom could see the fatigue in his face.
They went inside and were taken to Doctor Deveraux’ office.
“Lom.” The doctor came from behind his desk and extended his hand to him, “Nice to see you again.”
“You too.” Lom smiled and shook his hand while the orderly manoevred Heyes’ wheelchair into the room.
“Joshua.” The doctor turned to look at him with a smile, “It’s nice to see you again, although I wish it was in better circumstances.” He extended his hand and Heyes shook it.
“So do I.” he replied.
“How was your journey?” asked the doctor, returning to sit at his desk.
“Tiring.” said Lom
“Bumpy.” said Heyes at the same time.
“The doctor sent you these notes.” Lom told him, holding out the envelope, “He asked that you study them before you do anything, so that you‘ll know the full extent of his condition.”
The doctor took the file. “Yes, I only know the briefest details of what happened from the wires you sent me.” He looked at Heyes now, “You were caught up in a roof fall in a coal mine, is that correct?”
Heyes nodded. “Yeah.”
“Were you working there?” the doctor asked, a note of surprise in his voice. After his last illness, the doctor wouldn’t have thought him strong enough to undertake that kind of work.
“No.” said Heyes, “I’m studying Law and I’d been asked to look the mine over because the employees were considering bringing a case of negligence against the owners. There’ve been several accidents there recently and the miners say it’s because of unsafe working practices.” He shrugged, “I guess I picked the wrong day to go.”
The doctor nodded, staring at him thoughtfully. When he’d left the Institute, his speech and reactions had still been fairly slow and stilted, and the doctor hadn’t expected there to be a great deal more improvement, but as he listened to him now, there was only the slightest hesitation on some of the longer words, and he wondered if, before this accident, he’d improved as much physically. If he had, he’d done extremely well.
He shifted his gaze to the case notes and began to read, a frown creasing his brow as he read down the list of Heyes’ injuries. He then turned to the report Doctor Simpson had written that explained how he had initially wanted to amputate one leg, but had been persuaded not to, his reasons why he’d left the splints on so long and about the muscle damage and wastage due to his lengthy period of immobility, which meant he would be unable to even stand without first having some work to stimulate his muscles.
“Well.” he said to Heyes presently, “It looks like we’ve got quite a lot of work to do.”
Heyes nodded, his expression solemn. “I know.” he said quietly.
“Right. Well, you must be tired after your trip,” the doctor said in a brisk fashion, sensing Heyes’ anxiety, “so we’ll get you settled into your room and then, tomorrow, we’ll see about removing those splints and starting work.”
They all went down the corridor towards the room Heyes had been allocated, accompanied by two orderlies. There, they lifted Heyes into bed and put his clothes away in the closet.
“We’ll be having supper shortly.” Doctor Deveraux told him after the orderlies had departed, “Would you like yours here?” He too had noticed the exhaustion in Heyes’ face and didn’t think he’d want to be bothered to get up again.
“If I could.” said Heyes. He was aware of the rule that all patients who were physically able to were required to eat in the dining room, but he was too tired.
“Just this once.” Doctor Deveraux smiled kindly.
“Thanks.” Heyes replied wearily.
“Well, you relax and we’ll see you in a little while.” said the doctor, nodding to Lom to follow him.
They went back to the office where the doctor poured them both a scotch from a decanter on a cupboard near the window.
“I have to say,” he said, as he handed Lom a glass, “from reading Doctor Simpson’s notes, he’s very lucky not to have lost that leg.”
“I know.” said Lom, “Doctor Simpson wanted to amputate it, but we persuaded him to try and save it, although it was touch and go for a while. But he would have been devastated to lose it. We had to try. Luckily, it seems to have worked.”
Doctor Deveraux nodded. “That’s no guarantee that he’ll make a full recovery though.”
Lom nodded. “He knows. That’s why he asked to come here. He thought it was his best chance.”
“I’m flattered he thinks so highly of us.” smiled the doctor.
“Well you did such a good job with him before.” said Lom.
“It’s such a shame this should happen, after all the work he put in to recover from his paralysis.”
Lom nodded. “It’s tragic. He’s had some bad luck this last couple of years or so but, thanks to Doc Simpson, he made it through.”
He sounds an excellent doctor.” said Doctor Deveraux, “I could do with him on my staff.”
“He is a good doctor. One of the best I’ve known.” said Lom.
“Where did he study?”
“Boston I think, or Philadelphia. I’m not absolutely sure. He keeps well informed on all the new advances in medicine and tries to implement as many of them as possible
“I must come and visit him sometime.” smiled the doctor.
“I’m sure he’d enjoy talking to you.” said Lom, “It was him who recommended you after Joshua was hurt. He’d read about the successes you’ve had with your methods.”
“Well, we’ll do our best to help Joshua this time.” said the doctor. He looked at his watch, “It’s supper time now. Let’s go and organize some for him. Have you eaten?”
“Not since breakfast.” said Lom.
“I’ll have some sent down for us as well then.”
“Thank you.” said Lom.
The doctor collected Heyes’ supper personally and they returned to his room with it, but as they entered, Heyes was fast asleep.
The doctor put down the tray and bent to check his pulse before pulling the covers, which were down around his hips, up over his chest. Then, picking up the tray he crept out of the room with Lom on his heels.
“A good nights sleep will do him good after that bumpy journey.” said the doctor as he closed the door.
Lom nodded. “He wouldn’t admit it, but he was exhausted.”
They went back to Doctor Deveraux’ office to eat their meals, chatting amiably about what each had been up to since their last meeting.
Later, Lom bid the doctor goodnight, promising to return in the morning, and then headed into town to book a room for the night.
When he returned at ten thirty the next morning, he found Heyes washed and shaved, having already eaten breakfast, waiting for Doctor Deveraux to arrive. He seemed both excited and apprehensive at the prospect of beginning his treatment.
Doctor Deveraux arrived a short time later.
“Good Morning.” he smiled, “How are you feeling today?”
“O.K.” replied Heyes.
“All set then?”
Heyes nodded.
The doctor set about removing the splints and bandages from his legs and feet, and then bent to examine them. He saw Heyes flinch as he touched the scar where the broken bone had pierced the skin.
“Did that hurt?” he asked.
“It’s more… tender, than painful.” Heyes replied gruffly.
The doctor continued feeling his way along his legs and feet, checking the alignment of the bones and whether they were sufficiently healed for them to risk beginning work on them.
“Well,” he said presently, “the fractures all seem to be healed, although I’m not sure how strong this compound one will be. We may have to put some strapping on that to give it a bit more support. Now,” he took hold of Heyes’ foot and prodded around with his finger tips. “can you feel that?” he asked.
“No.” replied Heyes.
The doctor took out his pencil and stroked the sole of his foot to test his reflexes. Heyes jumped. When he repeated the procedure on his other foot however, he gave no response. Putting away his pencil, the doctor began stroking the flesh on his legs and asking what sort of sensations, if any, he could feel.
When he’d finished, the doctor sat down and began making notes.
“Well, Doc, what do you think?” Heyes asked anxiously.
“I haven’t finished yet.” the doctor told him, putting down the pencil and standing up.
He took hold of one of Heyes’ feet and gently bent it up and down and rotated the ankle to test the mobility of his joints, surreptitiously watching his facial expressions as he did so, knowing that he wouldn’t admit it if it hurt him, but needing to know in order to draft his treatment plan. He then repeated the same procedure with the other foot.
“Can you pull your knees up?” he asked presently.
Heyes managed to draw his knees up about halfway.
“Can you put them down again?”
With an effort, Heyes did so.
“Can you lift your legs up?” asked the doctor.
Heyes tried, managing to lift one leg about five inches off the bed, and the other about three inches, beads of perspiration standing out on his forehead from the effort.
The doctor sat down again and made some more notes, while Heyes waited anxiously for his response.
“Well,” he began presently, “there is some stiffness in your feet and ankle bones, and you have no sensation in about three quarters of your right foot, and the upper part of your left, due to nerve damage. That may or may not fully return, only time will tell, and your leg muscles need a fair amount of work before they’ll be strong enough to take your weight.”
“But, will I be able to walk?” asked Heyes.
“I can’t say how well, but you should be able to. A lot depends on how much mobility we can get back into your joints and how well the nerve damage recovers, as it will affect your balance.” He looked at Heyes’ downcast expression.
“Are you ready to start work?” he asked, in a business-like voice.
Heyes sighed. “I guess so.”
“What’s this ‘I guess so’?“ the doctor chided him, “I don’t have time for time wasters. If you’re not committed, you may as well go home, and let me treat someone who wants to try.” Although his words were hard, intended to shame him into wanting to fight, as he could sense Heyes’ lack of faith in recovering, they were delivered in a fatherly manner that was impossible to take offence to.
​
They had the desired effect because, after a moment, Heyes drew himself up and nodded.​
“Yes. I’m ready.” he said.
“Good.” smiled the doctor, “Well, I’ll go and draw up a treatment plan. In the meantime, I’ll get someone to wash your legs and give you a foot bath and massage to loosen them up, and then we’ll start with a few gentle exercises. Then, after lunch, you can get up and have a wander round. O.K?”
Heyes nodded. “O.K.”
The doctor left then and Lom prepared to take his leave.
“Don’t forget, I don’t want any visitors.” Heyes told him firmly.
“But how will we know how you’re getting on?” Lom protested.​
“I don’t want you to know.” said Heyes, “I don’t want to have to feel that I won’t have progressed as much as you might have expected, if you came to visit.” He shook his head, “I don’t want to have any targets. I just want to get on with it, and carry on, until… until we reach a point where they can’t do anything further.” he finished, seeming unwilling to speculate on his chances of recovery, “Can you understand?” he looked at Lom now.
“I guess so.” Lom nodded.
“And don’t get wiring Doctor Deveraux for information either.” Heyes wagged a knowing finger at him, “I shall tell him not to answer.”
Lom had to smile. “If that’s what you want.”
“It is.” said Heyes, “I’ll be in touch when I’m ready to leave. O.K?”
“O.K.” Lom sighed, “We’ll be thinking of you."
​
“I know. Thanks.” Heyes replied, with a watery smile.
Two staff members arrived just then, armed with water and towels.
“I’ll leave you to it then.” Lom got to his feet.
They eyed each other momentarily before Lom extended his hand to Heyes, who reached up to shake it.
“Good luck.” said Lom.
Heyes nodded. “Keep an eye on Thaddeus.” he told him, “Try to keep him from working himself to death on the farm.”
“I will.” smiled Lom. He let go of Heyes’ hand and put his hat on.
“See you.” he said, giving him a reassuring wink.
“Yeah.” Heyes replied gruffly, as Lom took his leave.​
​
* * *
​
​
​
