worth having my brain scrambled. If I have to sit out the season and let my brain heal, then thatâs what I have to do, even if it means losing my scholarship. That would suck, though.â
âI know,â Norval agreed.
Kadeem shook his head. âWe should have said something. But we didnât.â
Coach Green approached them from the sidelines. âI hope you boys are happy now,â he said.
âUs?â Norval shouted. He could no longer control himself. âWeâre not the guys in charge! You are. Youâre the one who made the call.â
âNorvalâs right,â Kadeem said. âIt isnât right to put all that on us.â
âFace it! You wanted the win, so you played Arnie. I hope youâre happy!â Norval shouted.
Coach Greenâs face turned red with anger. âWatch your mouths, or you wonât play for the rest of the season. I donât care how good you are.â With that, he turned away.
Norval watched Coach Green go, cursing him under his breath. Then he and Kadeem headed to the locker room in silence.
Once inside, Norval called the hospital. He learned that Arnie was being kept overnight for observation. He could have visitors, though, from six to eight.
âWant to go see him?â Norval asked Kadeem.
âLetâs go tomorrow and give the guy time to rest,â Kadeem said.
Norval nodded. He got dressed and met up with his parents, who had come to see the game. âYouâre not going out with your friends?â his mother asked.
âI wouldnât have any fun,â Norval told her.
T
he following afternoon Norval and Kadeem went over to the hospital. Maritza and Lara were leaving Arnieâs room when Norval and Kadeem arrived.
âHow is he?â Norval asked.
âPretty messed up,â Maritza replied.
Arnieâs parents and his doctor were at Arnieâs bedside, watching as Arnie drew on a pad. Arnie looked up as Norval and Kadeem came in, but he didnât acknowledge them. It was almost as if he didnât know who they were.
Glancing at Arnieâs paper, Norval saw that Arnie was drawing clock faces. At least, Norval guessed that they were supposed to be clocks. The one Arnie was working on had the squiggly, irregular shape of an amoeba. Some of the numbers floated inside the clock face. Others were completely outside of it. He had forgotten to draw in the hands of the clock entirely.
The doctor, a petite, dark-haired woman, took the paper from Arnie and showed Arnieâs parents. âWeâll need to run more neurological tests,â she said quietly. âThe MRI later today will give us a better sense of what areas of the brain have been injured.â
âHow do we fix this?â Arnieâs father asked. His brow was creased with worry. âLots of rest and rehabilitation,â the doctor said. âI suggest keeping him in a rehabilitation center until he stabilizes. Then he can get help as an outpatient.â
âWhat kind of help?â Arnieâs mother asked.
âHeâll work with a physiatrist, someone trained in brain injury recovery. There are exercises that can help the brain recover function after a trauma. The brain can rewire itself. Heâll need to be where his brain has the ideal conditions to do so.â
Norval jumped into the conversation. âWill he recover completely?â
âWe donât really know,â the doctor replied. âHeâs young. Young people have a remarkable ability to recover. On the other hand, his youth makes him even more vulnerable when it comes to concussion.â
âWhy is that?â Norval asked.
The doctor asked Arnieâs parents if they minded Kadeem and Norval being there before she answered any further questions. Arnieâs parents said they didnâtâthe boys were Arnieâs friends.
âHigh school athletes suffer more from the damage of concussion than even college
Learning to Kill: Stories