Little Girl Gone

Logan shook his head, and pointed to where the others were sitting, then said, “You want to tell me what that was all about?”

“The stitches?”

“Don’t play dumb, Dad. You know what I’m talking about.”

Harp sighed, then nodded toward his friends. “Let’s sit over there.”

“I think maybe you and I should talk alone, don’t you?”

But his dad was already heading across the room, so he reluctantly followed.

Once they joined the others, Logan said, “You lied to that attendant, Dad. What’s going to happen when he tells the police what you told him, and it doesn’t match the truth?”

“Who’s saying it’s not the truth?”

Logan stared at him for a moment. “Me. I’m saying that. I was the one who was there, not you. Remember?”

His father looked uncomfortable. “If we all tell the same story it is the truth.”

“If we what?”

“Tooney doesn’t want to make a big deal of this.”

“I don’t care what Tooney wants. It is a big deal. That guy was not trying to mug him.”

Harp took a breath. “He’d just rather not have the police involved, that’s all. I would think you, of all people, would be sensitive to that.”

“Excuse me?”

Trying very hard not to look at his son, Harp said, “It’s just…It’s over. He wants to move on.”

There were nods all around, the wise men suddenly existing in some kind of alternate universe from the one Logan inhabited.

 “You told that guy Tooney was mugged. Mugging’s a crime, too, Dad. The hospital’s probably already called the cops.”

“We had to tell him something,” Barney said. “He looks like he was in a fight.”

“That’s because he was!” Logan told him, surprised once again. “For God’s sake, you’re a doctor.”

“Retired,” his dad threw in.

“I don’t care if he’s retired,” Logan said to him, then turned back to Barney. “Aren’t you morally obligated to do the right thing?”

Barney glanced at him for a second, then looked away. “In this case, I believe that we are doing the right thing.”

Logan sat back, and took in the lot of them. “Have you all gone senile?”

“Hey, that’s not funny,” his father said.

Logan didn’t care if it was funny or not. At the moment, he almost meant it. “You know what? You and your buddies can do whatever you’d like, Dad, but I know what the guy looks like, and I got the license number of his car. I’ll tell the police myself.”

He started to get up, but his father put a hand on his shoulder. “Logan, you can’t.”

“Really? Why not?”

“Because that’s not what Tooney wants.”

“We’re going in circles here, Dad.” This time he did stand. “I’ll check in later to see how he’s—”

“At least do me this much. Wait and talk to Tooney first. I’m asking you as a favor.”

Logan closed his eyes for half a second. His father almost never asked for favors. He stood for a moment longer, thinking about it before he gave Harp a single, terse nod, then sat back down.

Harp patted him knee. “Thanks, Logan. Thanks.”

The others looked relieved, too.

They waited for thirty minutes before the man who’d asked them the questions earlier finally returned. Turned out his name was Mayer, and he wasn’t an orderly. He was one of the doctors on duty.

“Mr. Myat wanted me to give you an update,” he said. “The good news is that there doesn’t appear to be any internal bleeding. What he does have is a minor concussion, a cracked rib, and some cuts and bruises. We’d like to keep him overnight, but he’s insisting on going home.” The doctor paused. “He told me he lives alone. I would feel more comfortable releasing him if there were someone he could stay with for a few days.”

“I got plenty of room,” Harp said right away. “He can stay with me.”

The doctor looked skeptically at Logan’s father, his eyes glancing briefly at the new bandage on the side of Harp’s head.

“What?” Harp asked. “It’s just a cut. You saw it yourself.” He tapped the bandage with his hand. “See? Doesn’t even hurt.”

“Harp’s fine,” Barney said to Dr. Mayer. “But I’ll check in on both of them a few times a day, too.”