If he has the time, Gila Man ususally calls me before I head to bed every night (he’s working the swing shift; 4pm to 2am) so when he called last night, I told him that I was watching a movie and asked if I could call him back when it was over.
“Actually,” he said, “it’s kind of important. I’m on my way to the hospital.”
One heartbeat. Ka-thump
Two heartbeats. Ka-thump
My swirling set of thoughts during those two heartbeats: “On his way to the hospital? How did that happen? How did he get hurt? He was on attack tonight, so he was really close to the border, so what could have happened? Is he in an ambulance? He can’t be toooo hurt because he’s talking to me on the phone and he sounds perfectly fine!”
“Are you ok?” Was all I could say.
“Oh,” He said. “I’m fine. Really, it’s not that bad.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“Well, it’s kind of a long story.”
“Well, I’m fine. It’s…it’s kind of embarrasing, really. I’m ok.” He said.
“Gila Man. What. Happened.” I said very clearly.
“Oh, well…I’m ok. I just, well. I kinda just, um, sprained my ankle.” He told me.
Another string of swirling thoughts: “Was he trying to catch someone? Did he not see a tree root while pursuing someone in the dark? Did he try to jump a wash or small ravine and mis-calculate the distance? Was he wearing the wrong boots?”
“How did that happen?” I asked.
“Well, it’s really embarrasing and it’s kinda, well. It’s a long story.” He replied.
“I’m not going anywhere. You can tell me.” I said. (right now, I’m really wishing I could just read his mind already)
“Well, I was having a great night and I caught a lot of bodies and had them in the back of my truck.” (for those of you who didn’t know, Helaman got a government issued truck that is for him to use whenever he is at work. It’s so tall that even HE has to grab the steering wheel and jump to get in it. He was really excited about it) “So I had all these bodies in the back of my truck and I had to give them some water, and I put the truck in park, well, I thought I put the truck in park and I headed to the back to give the guys some water and I noticed that the truck was moving very slowly forward, right? So I toss the water in the back and run to the front and try to get in the truck because it’s going so slow, but it’s really tall so I couldn’t quite get in and I tripped and landed on my left ankle and knee and the truck rolled into a stop sign and stopped. The truck bent the sign and put a teeny dent in the front of my truck so I have to fill out all this paperwork and write a memo and I’m waiting for a ride to the hospital right now.”
“Sooooo. You’re all right?” I asked
“Well, my ankle hurts really bad, so I have to go get x-rays to see if it’s broken.”
“But you are ok? Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Well, not unless you have something to cure embarrassment.”
So after all is said and done, Gila Man has a bruised ego. And a badly sprained ankle (it wasn’t broken). But mostly a bruised ego.