Wrecked him.

The four of us arrived at the union hall
in the same order that we would
if we were going there for our weekly
plumbing classes, though that wasn't
the occasion this time.
We were going to carpool down
to Westchester Medical Center to see Ray
another guy in the apprenticeship program
who had recently been hit head-on
by a dump-truck while coming home from work.
Collapsed lung, lacerated liver, shattered ankle
appendix and ten feet of large intestine removed
but they said he'd be alright.

"Anybody hear from Tim?" I asked
as I approached the designated smoking spot
outside the front of the stone building
where we met for meetings.

"He'll be here in ten. Need a smoke?"

"I'm good. Quit." I went for my pack of gum.

We shot the shit for a few minutes catching up
on work stories, tales of general hilarity and misfortune.

"Here he comes now," I announced to the other two plumbers.

Tim offered to drive down to the hospital.
I thought I'd end up doing it, but he jumped
at the chance as if it was his silent penance
for holding us up. We saw the empty paper bag
and knew why he was running late.

"Does Ray need us to bring him anything?"

"Bacon double cheeseburger from a fast food place
and two strippers," I said from my spot in the back seat.
"Maybe a few feet of guts if we can scrounge some up."

"I brought him this," the kid next to me said, pulling
a folded magazine from his back pocket.
"It's a Collector's Edition."

"Playboy? Think that's what he really wants right now?"

"You're right. Can he even use his pecker?" Jay was turning
red with embarrassment. We all knew his heart was in the
right place and wanted to console him. Construction workers
are only allowed to do that by busting balls, though.

"Jesus, Jay," I said from the half of my mouth
that wasn't smiling as widely. "If the nurses catch him
rubbing one out they'll kick him to the curb."

We passed the skin mag around and flipped through
the pages. Lots of actresses from throughout the forty years
it had been in publication. A few washed-up singers.
One dead sex symbol. All in all it was a quality issue.

"I don't think he should have this anyway," Tim said
as he shoved it under the visor above his head
with the hand that wasn't driving.
We all laughed, he pulled it back down
and tossed it into Jay's lap.
The rest of the ride went quickly.
We found that bacon double.

Tim was the first one to enter Ray's room.
The forty pounds our pal had lost
in the seven weeks since the accident
had changed his appearance so much
that he was unrecognizeable; so much so, in fact
that Tim did an about-face and started to
walk out of the room as if he'd made a mistake.

"Tim! It's me, man," came Ray's weakened voice
from behind the light blue curtain.

Ray wasn't a big guy to begin with. This
tragedy had diminished his size even further.
His chest was small and frail, his arms thin
and the tendons in his neck stuck out like
cords tightened behind a thin beige sheet.
He could've been in a film about the Holocaust.

The four of us looked at each other.
I was glad we'd made it a point to get
exactly what he wanted to eat for him.
He needed all the help he could get, especially
since he was a divorced man of forty-something
whose family lived in Florida.

We sat around our emaciated friend
and made him laugh as much as possible.
No patronizing, no sugar-coating the facts.
Told a few recent work stories that had
been circulating at coffee break.
Nothing major, nothing too deep.
Company, fraternity. No stroking of anything.

"Crossword puzzles, huh?" I commented
letting my fingertips graze the cover
of the book of puzzles on his table.
Reminded me of laying with my girlfriend
and feeling intellectually spanked.
A proud defeat.
I tried to hide my happy memory out of
respect for my friend's situation.

"Yeah. I only get a few answers, then give up."

Then Tim chimed in with what we'd all been wondering:
"You need anything else, bro? A book? Some magazines?"
That was supposed to be the cue. He was baiting him.

Jay locked eyes with Tim before glancing at the rest of us
as if to say "No way in hell am I pulling that
magazine out of my pocket." There were things
far more important than some famous naked broads of yore.
A man's got to walk before he can run, let alone fuck.

"Nah, man. I'm good."

Jay sighed in relief.
Ray pushed the button that allowed more morphine
to drip into his system.
The rest of us counted our respective blessings.
We found more things to laugh about.

My watched stopped for some reason
while we were there
and the ride home felt like it took much longer.

"Next week?" I asked as we pulled into the
parking lot at the hall.

"I'm in."

"Yeah."

"No doubt."

Some of us are only born
without brothers.