بگو سیب و بمیر فصل 15

Say Cheese and Die! - Chapter 15

The hospital walls were pale green. The uniforms worn by the nurses scurrying through the brightly lit corridors were white. The floor tiles beneath Greg’s feet, as he hurried with his brother toward their father’s room, were dark brown with orange specks.

Colors.

All Greg could see were blurs of colors, indistinct shapes.

His sneakers thudded noisily against the hard tile floor. He could barely hear them over the pounding of his heart.

Totaled. The car had been totaled.

Just like in the snapshot.

Greg and Terry turned a corner. The walls in this corridor were pale yellow. Terry’s cheeks were red. Two doctors passed by wearing lime-green surgical gowns.

Colors. Only colors.

Greg blinked, tried to see clearly. But it was all passing by too fast, all too unreal. Even the sharp hospital smell, that unique aroma of rubbing alcohol, stale food, and disinfectant, couldn’t make it real for him.

Then the two brothers entered their father’s room, and it all became real.

The colors faded. The images became sharp and clear.

Their mother jumped up from the folding chair beside the bed. “Hi, boys.” She clenched a wadded-up tissue in her hand. It was obvious that she had been crying. She forced a tight smile on her face, but her eyes were red-rimmed, her cheeks pale and puffy.

Stopping just inside the doorway of the small room, Greg returned his mother’s greeting in a soft, choked voice. Then his eyes, focusing clearly now, turned to his father.

Mr. Banks had a mummylike bandage covering his hair. One arm was in a cast. The other lay at his side and had a tube attached just above the wrist, dripping a dark liquid into the arm. The bedsheet was pulled up to his chest.

“Hey—how’s it going, guys?” their father asked. His voice sounded fogged in, as if coming from far away.

“Dad—” Terry started.

“He’s going to be okay,” Mrs. Banks interrupted, seeing the frightened looks on her sons’ faces.

“I feel great,” Mr. Banks said groggily.

“You don’t look so great,” Greg blurted out, stepping up cautiously to the bed.

“I’m okay. Really,” their father insisted. “A few broken bones. That’s it.” He sighed, then winced from pain. “I guess I’m lucky.”

“You’re very lucky,” Mrs. Banks agreed quickly.

What’s the lucky part? Greg wondered silently to himself. He couldn’t take his eyes off the tube stuck into his father’s arm.

Again, he thought of the snapshot of the car. It was up in his room at home, tucked into the secret compartment in his headboard.

The snapshot showing the car totaled, the driver’s side caved in.

Should he tell them about it?

He couldn’t decide.

Would they believe him if he did tell them?

“What’d you break, Dad?” Terry asked, sitting down on the radiator in front of the windowsill, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets.

“Your father broke his arm and a few ribs,” Mrs. Banks answered quickly. “And he had a slight concussion. The doctors are watching him for internal injuries. But so far, so good.”

“I was lucky,” Mr. Banks repeated. He smiled at Greg.

“Dad, I have to tell you about this photo I took,” Greg said suddenly, speaking rapidly, his voice trembling with nervousness. “I took a picture of the new car, and—”

“The car is completely wrecked,” Mrs. Banks interrupted. Sitting on the edge of the folding chair, she rubbed her fingers, working her wedding ring around and around, something she always did when she was nervous. “I’m glad you boys didn’t see it.” Her voice caught in her throat. Then she added, “It’s a miracle he wasn’t hurt any worse.”

“This photo—” Greg started again.

“Later,” his mother said brusquely. “Okay?” She gave him a meaningful stare.

Greg felt his face grow hot.

This is important, he thought.

Then he decided they probably wouldn’t believe him, anyway. Who would believe such a crazy story?

“Will we be able to get another new car?” Terry asked.

Mr. Banks nodded carefully. “I have to call the insurance company,” he said.

“I’ll call them when I get home,” Mrs. Banks said. “You don’t exactly have a hand free.”

Everyone laughed at that, nervous laughter.

“I feel kind of sleepy,” Mr. Banks said. His eyes were halfway closed, his voice muffled.

“It’s the painkillers the doctors gave you,” Mrs. Banks told him. She leaned forward and patted his hand. “Get some sleep. I’ll come back in a few hours.”

She stood up, still fiddling with her wedding band, and motioned with her head toward the door.

“Bye, Dad,” Greg and Terry said in unison.

Their father muttered a reply. They followed their mother out the door.

“What happened?” Terry asked, as they made their way past a nurses’ station, then down the long, pale yellow corridor. “I mean, the accident.”

“Some guy ran right through a red light,” Mrs. Banks said, her red-rimmed eyes focused straight ahead. “He plowed right into your father’s side of the car. Said his brakes weren’t working.” She shook her head, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “I don’t know,” she said, sighing. “I just don’t know what to say. Thank goodness he’s going to be okay.”

They turned into the green corridor, walking side by side. Several people were waiting patiently for the elevator at the far end of the hall.

Once again, Greg found himself thinking of the snapshots he had taken with the weird camera.

First Michael. Then Terry. Then Bird. Then his father.

All four photos had shown something terrible. Something terrible that hadn’t happened yet.

And then all four photos had come true.

Greg felt a chill as the elevator doors opened and the small crowd of people moved forward to squeeze inside.

What’s the truth about the camera? he wondered.

Does the camera show the future?

Or does it actually cause bad things to happen?