A few moments later, I heard the footsteps come in the room again, and a large, heavy blanket was draped over me. Peter sat down next to me.
"I know you're awake, Davy," he said, and I sighed, rolling over.
"What did I do to him Peter?" I asked, and Peter looked at the floor, not wanting to respond. "Tell me."
"He'll be okay," Peter assured me hastily. "Just..well, hurt his throat a bit."
I sighed, putting my head in my hands. "You should talk to him, Davy" Peter advised. "Get things straightened out."
I sighed again. "Alright," I mumbled.
After I changed into the clothes Peter brought me, I went upstairs to see Micky. For the first time, I noticed it was raining. There seemed to be a gloomy atmosphere which was probably brought on by the rain and the fact that the room itself was dimly lit. Had I not been already sad I would have become sadder.
I sat down in a chair next to Micky's bed and watched him sleep. I saw that he had a lot of scratches on his arms and his face. Some of which probably could have used a few stiches. The main thing that worried me was the blood stained cloth that was around his neck. I looked down at it and felt a lump in my throat.
What if he would never be able to talk or sing again? I fought back the tears that were coming and swallowed the lump in my throat. I looked out the window at the rainy weather and wondered how I'd ended up with the stupid were-curse.
"D-davy?"
Was that a voice or my imagination overreacting? I turned and saw that Micky was awakened. Had he really talked? How was that possible? I looked at him in hopes that he'd talk again and confirm it.
"Micky?" I asked. Micky smiled weakly. "H-how do you feel?"
He shrugged. "T-tired," he stuttered. "W-why a-are y-you h-here?" he asked slowly. I noticed the stutter but forced back any possible tears.
"I came to see you, silly," I said, trying to make myself feel better. "I came to.a..apoligize. This is my fault."
Micky looked confused. "Y-your f-fault?" he asked. "B-but h-how? I th-thought i-it w-was a m-mountain l-lion?" he asked.
"It was," I said.
"Th-then, y-you, t-too?" he asked. I nodded. "H-how?"
"I don't know," I said. "But it was me, and I'm sorry."
"I-it's o-o-okay, I k-kinda d-deserved i-it," Micky said, waving it off. "I-I'm s-sorry f-for m-making f-fun o-of y-you. I-I j-just w-wish I-I c-could t-tell y-you th-that i-in l-less th-than t-ten m-minutes," he added with a smile, to hide how tired those three sentences made him.
"Is that my fault, too? The stutter? How'd I do that?" I asked.
Micky sighed. "L-long e-expl-planati-tion,"he said, struggling on the word. "A-ask P-peter, h-he c-can t-tell y-you b-better. A-and f-faster, t-too," he added grinning. I finally broke a smile. At least Micky hadn't lost his sense of humor. I didn't think that it was possible.
"You're gonna be ok?" I asked. He nodded. "Good. I don't know what I'd do if you weren't," I added solemnly, not wanting to even think about that.
"Y-yeah I-I'll b-be f-fine. I w-won't b-be a-able t-to s-sing f-for a wh-while, b-but I-I'll l-live," he said, smiling.
Not sing? The words hit me like a pie in the face. At once, all the tears I'd been holding back splurged forward as if somebody had knocked down the damn on a river. I tried to hold it back but it was useless and I began to sob uncontrollably.
Micky was shocked. "I-I'll g-get i-it b-b-back e-ev-vent-tually," he said, trying to comfort me.
"Yeah, when your (sob) fifty-two and going bald!" I said. Micky was shocked. His eyes grew wide and his hands instinctively went to his head. In his mind, he screamed and began to cry.
I turned and smiled slightly at him, able to stop my own tears by now. "I'm sorry, Micky, you won't go bald. It couldn't happen to you," I said, smiling.
"S-sure y-you th-think i-it's f-funny. B-but m-me l-loosing m-my h-hair i-is l-like y-you l-loosing y-your a-accent o-or s-something," he said as indignantly as possible.
That did it and I went from extreme tears to laughing as hard as I'd ever laughed before in my life. If not harder. Micky, luckily, wasn't insulted and he laughed, too.
Go back to part nineteen cause you forgot what happens
