The driver, mindful of the rain-slicked pavement that the car was not well adapted to, carefully pulled the vehicle under the hospital's covered entranceway.
The large man stiffly eased into the passenger seat, keeping the casted arm pressed close to his body.
"You didn't have to do this, you know," Josiah rumbled.
"I could have called a cab. Just because Chris and the others are out camping
doesn't mean you have to put yourself out so much. Son, I just didn't realize how badly it was raining or how late it was when I called you. Guess that knock on the head's got me a little disoriented,"
he finished sheepishly.
"Which is precisely why I'm here," Ezra answered. "I could not, in good conscience, leave you alone with that concussion. That is why
I'm out here, at three o'clock in the morning, in what I would not be exaggerating in calling The Storm of the Century, and why you will be staying at my abode for the rest of the weekend."
"Thank you, son," Josiah told him with heartfelt gratitude. He patted Ezra's arm gently with his good arm, trying to convey without words just how grateful he was to his young friend. Ezra flashed his gold tooth in a grin.
"Anytime, Josiah," Ezra said softly, allowing his habitual emotional mask to slip for just one instant. Then the moment was gone, and Ezra was Ezra again, instead of a worried friend.
"However, there will be no - I repeat - no more tree-climbing! The damn kitten can stay there for the rest of its life for all
I care!"
The End
