“Hurry! Get him on the table! We’re losing him!” Kowalski commanded as he, Rico, and Private carried their leader into the zoo infirmary.
Rico and Private laid a bruised, scratched-up, and unconscious Skipper on the examination table.
“We’re going to need help!” Kowalski alisema setting to work assessing his wounds. “Private, go find some hands!”
“Aye!” Private acknowledged as he leapt from the table. He ran to the chimps’ habitat first.
“Mason! Phil!” he called in a panic.
Mason climbed down from his mti with Phil following close behind.
“What’s the trouble, Private? wewe look rather shaken up,” Mason asked facing him with concern.
“It’s Skipper! We were on a mission and he got caught in a motor vehicle accident! We need help!” Private explained as he found himself at war with the tears behind his eyes.
Mason exchanged an alarmed look with Phil and the mute chimp nodded with a serious expression. Mason turned back to the small, frightened penguin.
“Just tell us where he is,” he said.
“In the infirmary,” Private told them, “I’m going to find zaidi help!”
Mason and Phil nodded and headed for the infirmary, and Private headed to Marlene’s.
“Oh my God,” Marlene replied when Private explained the situation. “Absolutely, I’m on my way.”
Private and Marlene rushed to the infirmary, where Kowalski was using his portable cat scan machine to check Skipper’s internal organs and bones.
“Kowalski, how’s he doing?” Private called as he and Marlene climbed atop the examination table.
Kowalski set aside his cat scan and turned to him with serious eyes.
“He’s alive. That’s the important thing,” he alisema turning back to Skipper.
“Kowalski,” Mason alisema pulling his index and middle fingers from Skipper’s jugular, “his pulse is weakening.”
Kowalski checked behind him and when he affirmed the news, he turned to Rico.
“Go to HQ and bring the crash cart. Hurry!” he commanded. Rico nodded and used his feet to propel himself from the examination table.
Marlene knelt down at his head and gently took his face in her paws, trying to keep from crying.
“Skipper?” she called. “Skipper, can wewe hear me?”
Skipper didn’t respond.
“You’re going to be okay, Skipper. You’re going to be okay. I promise.”
— § —
“How is he?” Maurice asked as the chimps and Marlene left the infirmary. Word had spread across the zoo about Skipper’s condition, and there was a crowd of zoosters outside that had been waiting for over two hours for news.
“He crashed once, and he had some hemorrhaging in his abdomen, but he’s stable now,” Mason informed them.
Marlene shook her head.
“I’m not so sure. Did wewe see the look in Kowalski’s eyes? There’s something wrong, and he’s not telling us,” she alisema hugging herself as a cold chill danced on her spine.
Mason placed his hand on her shoulder.
“He’ll tell us when he’s ready. That’s probably why he wanted us to leave. Maybe he wants to be certain if something’s wrong before telling anyone,” he suggested.
“I hope nothing’s wrong, but I just can’t help this really bad feeling I have,” Marlene alisema shifting her arms down over her queasy stomach.
“Well,” Maurice cut in, “if there is, Skipper can pull through. He always does.”
Marlene looked down.
“I hope you’re right.”
— § —
“Kowalski, this can’t be right. Are wewe absolutely sure?” Private asked in hopes that his temporary first in command was far from right.
“I’m certain, I’m afraid,” Kowalski answered looking down at his unconscious leader with dark, serious eyes. “You should go inform the others. Both of you, wewe deserve some fresh air. I’ll stay here for observations.”
Private and Rico’s first instinct was to protest leaving their leader, but both were tired, and could barely stand seeing their leader with the knowledge that someone would have to break the news to him when he awoke.
When they pushed through the door of the zoo vet, a deadly silence fell among the zoosters. Everyone could tell kwa their expressions that something was wrong. The sun setting on the horizon seemed to turn a deeper shade of orange, casting an eerie glow on the zoo. Even the shadows were cast at odd angles, as if they were trying to flee the scene. The temperature seemed to drop, yet rise at the same time. The humidity had caused sweat to break out on the zoosters foreheads, even though most of their toes had turned numb with cold.
“No . . .” Julien started taking a step back. “He’s not—”
“No,” Private interrupted. “He’s not dead. He should awaken in a few hours.”
“Then . . . what’s wrong?” Roy asked.
Private and Rico exchanged a glance.
“Well, it appears that Skipper suffered serious blunt force trauma to his head. He has—” Private choked on the words and had to clear his throat. “He has an eighty-seven percent chance that—he’ll never walk again.”
For what seemed an eternity, no one alisema anything. Time seemed to cease existence. Not even the wind dared a whisper.
“But—how does a head injury affect your legs?” Maurice inquired in a dry voice.
“The part of his brain that controls his legs was severely damaged,” Private explained. He seemed to have aged twenty years in one afternoon.
“But what about the thirteen percent chance that he can walk?” Marlene asked with a touch of hope. “Doesn’t that count for something?”
“Kowalski alisema that if Skipper put forth some effort in physical therapy, he could be able to salvage that small chance, but . . . I don’t know,” Private answered.
Another silence lasted before Kowalski called Private and Rico in to help songesha their leader to HQ.
— § —
Kowalski was in his lab running tests on and analyzing Skipper’s cat scan, blood samples, x-rays, urinalysis, and any other possible test he could run to try and find some answers—any answer—for the rest of that night.
His mind kept wandering back to when he had to tell Skipper about his condition.
He’d had to do some pretty hard things in his life, but nothing would ever compare to that moment. As soon as he told him, Skipper’s face had turned a deeply frightening, indescribable stare. It fell into a corpse-like, lifeless, bloodless stare that he couldn’t decipher. For several moments, he and Kowalski held silent eye contact until Skipper finally turned his head and gaze perpendicular to the bunk above him. Kowalski suggested physical therapy and told him that with a fair amount of effort, he just might be able to walk again. Although, he’d said, it would take a tremendous amount of time and patience. Even after he potentially started walking, it would be a while before he could do all the things he used to.
Skipper never replied.
Kowalski stayed a few zaidi moments, waiting for a response, and when none came, he decided Skipper just needed to be alone to think. Private had come to his lab about three hours zamani to inform him that Skipper had fallen asleep, and soon after, Private and Rico had turned in themselves.
Kowalski stared at the cat scan, at the spot on Skipper’s brain that hindered his ability to walk. He just—kept staring at it, trying to convince himself that it was a shadow au some mistake on his part. But he couldn’t blind himself to the facts.
Crash.
“Skipper!”
Kowalski raced out of his lab at Private’s cry to find he and Rico trying to calm Skipper, who was on the floor flailing his flippers around as his legs hung limp beneath him.
“No! You’re all wrong!” he was screaming. “I can walk! I can! Get off of me!”
Kowalski found himself unable to songesha from his spot standing outside, as if his feet had become one with the cement floor of the HQ. His moyo had plummeted into his stomach, and the blood had drained from his face.
“I can walk! Why are wewe doing this to me?!”
Skipper was crying now. Private and Rico tried to calm him down and they pulled at his flippers to try to get him back in bed, but Skipper fought back with all the strength he could muster in his sore and bruised muscles. Rico finally was forced to regurgitate a bottle of chloroform and gauze. When Skipper relaxed and fell unconscious, Rico and Private finally pulled him back into his bunk. For the inayofuata several minutes, nobody moved nor spoke, instead stared at Skipper’s limp body asleep in the bottom bunk, and listened to the steadying of their heartbeats. Each of them knew that what had just happened would stay on their minds for a long time to come.
Rico and Private laid a bruised, scratched-up, and unconscious Skipper on the examination table.
“We’re going to need help!” Kowalski alisema setting to work assessing his wounds. “Private, go find some hands!”
“Aye!” Private acknowledged as he leapt from the table. He ran to the chimps’ habitat first.
“Mason! Phil!” he called in a panic.
Mason climbed down from his mti with Phil following close behind.
“What’s the trouble, Private? wewe look rather shaken up,” Mason asked facing him with concern.
“It’s Skipper! We were on a mission and he got caught in a motor vehicle accident! We need help!” Private explained as he found himself at war with the tears behind his eyes.
Mason exchanged an alarmed look with Phil and the mute chimp nodded with a serious expression. Mason turned back to the small, frightened penguin.
“Just tell us where he is,” he said.
“In the infirmary,” Private told them, “I’m going to find zaidi help!”
Mason and Phil nodded and headed for the infirmary, and Private headed to Marlene’s.
“Oh my God,” Marlene replied when Private explained the situation. “Absolutely, I’m on my way.”
Private and Marlene rushed to the infirmary, where Kowalski was using his portable cat scan machine to check Skipper’s internal organs and bones.
“Kowalski, how’s he doing?” Private called as he and Marlene climbed atop the examination table.
Kowalski set aside his cat scan and turned to him with serious eyes.
“He’s alive. That’s the important thing,” he alisema turning back to Skipper.
“Kowalski,” Mason alisema pulling his index and middle fingers from Skipper’s jugular, “his pulse is weakening.”
Kowalski checked behind him and when he affirmed the news, he turned to Rico.
“Go to HQ and bring the crash cart. Hurry!” he commanded. Rico nodded and used his feet to propel himself from the examination table.
Marlene knelt down at his head and gently took his face in her paws, trying to keep from crying.
“Skipper?” she called. “Skipper, can wewe hear me?”
Skipper didn’t respond.
“You’re going to be okay, Skipper. You’re going to be okay. I promise.”
— § —
“How is he?” Maurice asked as the chimps and Marlene left the infirmary. Word had spread across the zoo about Skipper’s condition, and there was a crowd of zoosters outside that had been waiting for over two hours for news.
“He crashed once, and he had some hemorrhaging in his abdomen, but he’s stable now,” Mason informed them.
Marlene shook her head.
“I’m not so sure. Did wewe see the look in Kowalski’s eyes? There’s something wrong, and he’s not telling us,” she alisema hugging herself as a cold chill danced on her spine.
Mason placed his hand on her shoulder.
“He’ll tell us when he’s ready. That’s probably why he wanted us to leave. Maybe he wants to be certain if something’s wrong before telling anyone,” he suggested.
“I hope nothing’s wrong, but I just can’t help this really bad feeling I have,” Marlene alisema shifting her arms down over her queasy stomach.
“Well,” Maurice cut in, “if there is, Skipper can pull through. He always does.”
Marlene looked down.
“I hope you’re right.”
— § —
“Kowalski, this can’t be right. Are wewe absolutely sure?” Private asked in hopes that his temporary first in command was far from right.
“I’m certain, I’m afraid,” Kowalski answered looking down at his unconscious leader with dark, serious eyes. “You should go inform the others. Both of you, wewe deserve some fresh air. I’ll stay here for observations.”
Private and Rico’s first instinct was to protest leaving their leader, but both were tired, and could barely stand seeing their leader with the knowledge that someone would have to break the news to him when he awoke.
When they pushed through the door of the zoo vet, a deadly silence fell among the zoosters. Everyone could tell kwa their expressions that something was wrong. The sun setting on the horizon seemed to turn a deeper shade of orange, casting an eerie glow on the zoo. Even the shadows were cast at odd angles, as if they were trying to flee the scene. The temperature seemed to drop, yet rise at the same time. The humidity had caused sweat to break out on the zoosters foreheads, even though most of their toes had turned numb with cold.
“No . . .” Julien started taking a step back. “He’s not—”
“No,” Private interrupted. “He’s not dead. He should awaken in a few hours.”
“Then . . . what’s wrong?” Roy asked.
Private and Rico exchanged a glance.
“Well, it appears that Skipper suffered serious blunt force trauma to his head. He has—” Private choked on the words and had to clear his throat. “He has an eighty-seven percent chance that—he’ll never walk again.”
For what seemed an eternity, no one alisema anything. Time seemed to cease existence. Not even the wind dared a whisper.
“But—how does a head injury affect your legs?” Maurice inquired in a dry voice.
“The part of his brain that controls his legs was severely damaged,” Private explained. He seemed to have aged twenty years in one afternoon.
“But what about the thirteen percent chance that he can walk?” Marlene asked with a touch of hope. “Doesn’t that count for something?”
“Kowalski alisema that if Skipper put forth some effort in physical therapy, he could be able to salvage that small chance, but . . . I don’t know,” Private answered.
Another silence lasted before Kowalski called Private and Rico in to help songesha their leader to HQ.
— § —
Kowalski was in his lab running tests on and analyzing Skipper’s cat scan, blood samples, x-rays, urinalysis, and any other possible test he could run to try and find some answers—any answer—for the rest of that night.
His mind kept wandering back to when he had to tell Skipper about his condition.
He’d had to do some pretty hard things in his life, but nothing would ever compare to that moment. As soon as he told him, Skipper’s face had turned a deeply frightening, indescribable stare. It fell into a corpse-like, lifeless, bloodless stare that he couldn’t decipher. For several moments, he and Kowalski held silent eye contact until Skipper finally turned his head and gaze perpendicular to the bunk above him. Kowalski suggested physical therapy and told him that with a fair amount of effort, he just might be able to walk again. Although, he’d said, it would take a tremendous amount of time and patience. Even after he potentially started walking, it would be a while before he could do all the things he used to.
Skipper never replied.
Kowalski stayed a few zaidi moments, waiting for a response, and when none came, he decided Skipper just needed to be alone to think. Private had come to his lab about three hours zamani to inform him that Skipper had fallen asleep, and soon after, Private and Rico had turned in themselves.
Kowalski stared at the cat scan, at the spot on Skipper’s brain that hindered his ability to walk. He just—kept staring at it, trying to convince himself that it was a shadow au some mistake on his part. But he couldn’t blind himself to the facts.
Crash.
“Skipper!”
Kowalski raced out of his lab at Private’s cry to find he and Rico trying to calm Skipper, who was on the floor flailing his flippers around as his legs hung limp beneath him.
“No! You’re all wrong!” he was screaming. “I can walk! I can! Get off of me!”
Kowalski found himself unable to songesha from his spot standing outside, as if his feet had become one with the cement floor of the HQ. His moyo had plummeted into his stomach, and the blood had drained from his face.
“I can walk! Why are wewe doing this to me?!”
Skipper was crying now. Private and Rico tried to calm him down and they pulled at his flippers to try to get him back in bed, but Skipper fought back with all the strength he could muster in his sore and bruised muscles. Rico finally was forced to regurgitate a bottle of chloroform and gauze. When Skipper relaxed and fell unconscious, Rico and Private finally pulled him back into his bunk. For the inayofuata several minutes, nobody moved nor spoke, instead stared at Skipper’s limp body asleep in the bottom bunk, and listened to the steadying of their heartbeats. Each of them knew that what had just happened would stay on their minds for a long time to come.
