Author's webpage: http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Starship/6102/home.html

Author's disclaimer: There once was a company in Toronto,
Who made the world's best TV show.
People, wolves, places, and plot,
All the rights they have got,
But here I can do what I want to.

Author's notes: Inspired by wondering where that big green stuffed animal came from. Dedicated, as always, to the best list on line. RSY.

He was just looking out the window, watching the rain.

I'd seen him come in here a couple of times before. Sometimes, he was with a tall police man with a big nose, but most of the time he was by himself. Not many people talked to him, I think because he usually sat off on his own like that, looking out the window at the people coming in and out of the hospital. He didn't talk to anybody, not even the police man, and he always looked so sad, like he was gonna cry but had to be really brave about it.

I didn't think it was nice of people to ignore him like that, and I wondered if maybe he was sad because he didn't have any friends. Daddy said policemen were our friends, but I knew that was not the same as having someone to play with. Policemen just want to help you. They don't want to play ball or build things with play dough or splash in the mud when it was raining outside. Like right then. I knew that if that car hadn't hit me and Becky on our bikes, we'd be down there playing in the mud puddles.

Curious, I put my crayons down on the table next to the half-finished picture of the pony I was coloring. Wheeling my chair around so I could see him better, I tried to look at him without staring. Mama said it's bad to stare.

He looked like a nice man, with dark hair that wasn't all crazy like my brother's, and a face that looked just like a prince in a Disney movie. He was a grown up, but not an old one. Most of the grown ups here are old people, or they're really really sick. I didn't think he was sick, because he was white, but not really sick white , and he wasn't all skinny like them. He did look like he hurt, though. Maybe he got hit by a car like me. Or maybe he was a prince, and he got hurt saving the princess from a dragon.

I smiled. Wouldn't it be funny to have a prince right here in the hospital? I wondered if he had a white horse and a castle and everything, or if he was a different kind of prince. The kind of prince that wore dark blue sweatsuits and white tennis shoes instead of a prince costume. The smile turned into a giggle. I was being silly. He was probably not a prince, but he was still all by himself.

Very quietly, I wheeled over to him, smiling shyly. "Hi."

He looked at me, and I saw that his eyes were blue, like his sweatsuit, but lighter. They were also kinda funny looking, like a doll's eyes. It didn't look as if there was a person in there at all, just an empty place. It made me shiver, but I kept smiling at him. Maybe if I was really nice to him, we could be friends. I'd be six in two weeks, so I guessed I was big enough to have grown up friends. "My name's Katie," I told him in my most polite and grown up voice, "what's yours?"

For a little bit longer, his eyes looked into mine, then he was staring out the window again, watching the rain hit against the glass. I thought maybe I made him angry, that he didn't want to answer me. Then he talked, and he had a very nice voice, low and quiet...the kind of voice that you don't think could ever yell at you for spilling milk by accident, and that you just know could read really super bedtime stories. "Fraser."

I frowned, repeating the name slowly. "Fray-zer? That's a funny name. Is that your first name?"

He kept staring out the window, and he didn't smile or frown or anything. It was really creepy, as if all his feelings had been sucked out of him by some awful monster, and the only thing left was this really quiet sadness. "No."

"What's your first name, then?" Maybe I was being rude, but I wanted to know. Fraser was a silly name, but not as silly as some of the names I'd heard. Kopczinski, Guggenheim, Fedorawitz. I wondered if he'd have a normal guy's name like Tom or Joe, or if it would be something crazy like Cornelius or Xavier.

"Benton." He paused. "Some people call me Ben."

So I was kinda right both ways. Benton was a silly name, but not Ben. I knew lots of guys named Ben. I stuck out my hand, checking first to make sure he didn't have a cast or anything on his arm. "Nice to meet you, Ben."

It took him a second to notice my hand, and he shook it. He shook it pretty carefully, not squeezing really tight like some people do. "Nice to meet you too, Katie." His mouth sorta smiled, but his eyes were still the doll's eyes.

Ben started to turn back to the window, and I craned my neck to see out. There weren't any people out there. Just grass and mud and concrete and flowers that looked really droopy because the rain had squished the blossoms. There didn't seem to be anything interesting, but he seemed to like whatever it was a lot, or at least he might be trying to find something. I wasn't sure which. "Whatcha lookin' at?"

"The rain."

"Oh." Well, there was nothing interesting about rain unless you were out in it, and you sure couldn't be looking for rain when it was all over the place like this. I started looking around, trying to find something else to talk about.

I examined Ben, and all of a sudden I realized that I couldn't find where he was hurt. He didn't have a cast, or a sling, or crutches, or even those white wrappy bandages that the nurses put on you if you're cut. Maybe he was sick, and that was why he was so sad. My eyes got big as I wondered if I could catch whatever he had. "Are you sick?"

Maybe he heard that I was a little scared in my voice, because he stopped looking out the window. "Sick? No." He shook his head, then kind of left it there, just hanging. I tilted my head so I could look into his eyes.

"Then you got hurt? I can't find your cast."

Ben smiled a little bit, then nodded his head back some bit, like he was looking over his shoulder. "I was shot. In the back. The bandage is beneath my shirt."

I gasped. Shot! Wow. I knew about people being shot in the movies and stuff, but I didn't think I'd ever actually meet somebody who'd had it happen to them. It was so cool! Maybe he wasn't a prince, but some kind of hero, stopping a bank robbery or saving somebody from outlaws. "Did a bad guy shoot you?"

"No." His voice got really, really quiet, and I had to listen carefully to know what he was saying. "I was shot by a Detective."

Uh oh, I thought. Maybe he was the bad guy. I put my hands on my wheels, ready to back up if he was't a nice man after all. "Is a Detective like a police man?"

"Yes."

"Did you do something bad that made the police man have to shoot you?"

This made him be quiet for a very long time, and I thought maybe he hadn't heard me. Then I realized that his eyes didn't look quite so much like doll's eyes any more. Instead, they looked really, really heartsick and sad, like Becky's Momma's eyes after the doctor told her that Becky had to have part of one of her legs cut off. Finally, he talked again, "Yes. I was...leaving with a woman. She had committed several very serious crimes." His voice started to get shaky. "The police man thought that the woman had a gun, and he tried to shoot her to stop her from running away."

"But he hit you instead? Or did he shoot her first, and then shoot you cuz you were gonna go with her?" This was just like a TV show, with cops and bad ladies and people getting shot.

"I intercepted the bullet that was intended for her."

I made a face. "What does in-tra-ssep-ed mean?"

"Intercepted means to block. The bullet hit me instead of her."

"Oh." I watched the rain with him for a little while, thinking. "Why did you want to go with the bad lady?"

Ben took a short little breath, like somebody poked him with something. "Because, I loved her."

"Even though she did bad things?"

"Even though she did bad things."

I frowned, putting my elbow on the armrest of my wheelchair and resting my head in my hand. "Did she do really bad things, or just kinda naughty ones? My Momma said she still loves me, even after what I did with my bike."

For the first time, he seemed to notice the big white casts that covered my legs from my toes up past my knees. His smooth face made little lines as his eyes narrowed with concern. "Is that how you were injured? A bicycling accident?"

I nodded. "We weren't supposed to be on the road, but you can go faster there, and Becky - she's my friend - and I, we were trying to see who could go fastest of all. So we went on the road when we didn't think there were cars, but there was a car, and he hit us." I looked down at my casts, my throat suddenly feeling really small. "I flew through the air and hit really hard, but Becky got caught under the car. They had to take part of her leg off because it was really badly squished."

"I'm sorry. Are they expecting you to recover full - I mean, to get better?" He seemed to have forgotten about the rain, and I liked that. Ben was talking to me now, even if I didn't like what we were talking about.

"Yeah." I suddenly remembered what we had been talking about before. "But what about your lady? Did she do something really, really bad?"

He didn't seem to know how to answer that for a little bit, then he took a deep breath and let it out really slow. "Yes, I believe she did."

"That's too bad." I thought carefully, but couldn't remember any ladies coming with him in this room, but I knew I couldn't see what happened in his own room, so maybe she'd come there. "Did she like you back?"

"I don't know."

"Did she stay when you got hurt?" My Momma came out of the house and stayed with me when the car hit me and Becky, even though we'd had a fight that morning. Feeding cereal to the cat didn't matter any more after I'd been hurt. Maybe whatever bad thing his lady did wouldn't matter after he'd been hurt.

He shook his head, real slow, and his hands got tight on the armrests of his wheelchair. "No. She didn't stay, Katie."

"That's sad." I wheeled my chair up really close to his, so the wheels were touching, and I looked into those doll's eyes again. The sadness wasn't as clear any more, and they were dead again. I think I liked sad better. "Is that why you sit here all alone?"

Ben didn't say anything this time, just nodded and went back to the rain. The rain on the glass made patterns in the light from the window, putting little shadows and bits of light on his white face that looked like dancing fairies. I put my hand on his, and was amazed by how big it was. With my bracelet next to his, my fingers came just over his second knuckles. "Don't you have any friends, Ben?"

"Detective Vecchio comes to see me frequently." Now his voice was dead like his eyes. I shivered.

"Is he the police man with the big nose?"

"Yes."

"You two don't talk much." I couldn't remember them ever talking, in fact. The police man would just wheel Ben in here, put him by the window, and say something like 'here you are'. Ben would thank him, and he would go away. No different than when it was a nurse that brought him in. It didn't seem like they were very good friends to me. "Are you mad at him for something?"

"He was the officer who shot me."

I gasped. "On purpose?"

"I don't believe so." The way he said it made me think that maybe he hadn't really decided yet. I felt really bad for him. It hurts a lot when you fight with a friend, and even worse when you hurt each other, even if it is by accident.

Suddenly, I had an idea. "What about your Momma and Daddy? Do they come and see you?"

"They're dead."

My eyes went wide. I couldn't imagine living without a Momma and Daddy because they were dead. Sometimes, someone's parents would die in a movie. I knew that Sarah down the road didn't have a Momma because she was dead, and lots of kids at school had only one parent because theirs were divorced. But to have both your Momma and Daddy dead, and then to have all these bad things happen to you...I think I understood why he looked so sad. There was no one to stay with him when it hurt really bad at night, no one to give him kisses and say it would be better, no one to.... "Ben?"

"Yes?"

"Who gives you hugs?"

He seemed a little surprised by the question. "Hugs?"

"When you feel sad. Does anyone give you hugs?"

Ben thought about this for a second, then shrugged, kinda carefully. I guess his back hurt when he did that. "I've managed to be quite self-sufficient in that department."

I tried to work out what that word meant on it's own, then gave up. "Does that mean you don't get hugs?"

"I suppose it does."

"Oh, Ben!" I felt tears in my eyes, and my chest got tight as I tried not to cry. "That's so awful!" I kinda started crying on the last word, and I reached out as far as I could, wrapping my arms around him. I couldn't pull myself out of the chair with the casts on my legs, but I twisted, managing to get my arms part of the way around his body. He wasn't fat at all like my Uncle Jim, but his arms and his chest were pretty thick, and I couldn't get my arms all the way around him. There was a bulge in the back of his shirt, and I was very careful not to touch it, because I knew that was where he had been hurt. I didn't want to hurt him, after all, just to let him know what a hug felt like.

I felt his arms go around me, and he hugged me back. It was pretty tight, but he didn't hurt me. I could feel him shaking, and I wondered if he was going to cry. We sat that way for a long time, then he pulled back, and his eye's weren't doll's eyes any more. I could see lots of different feelings...lots of sadness, lots of hurt, a little big of anger, a little bit of happiness. It made me hurt inside to see it, but it was better than the dead eyes.

I hugged him again, really quickly this time, then smiled at him. His eyes looked very bright in the light from the window, and I knew he might cry. My brother doesn't like me to see him cry, and I know my Daddy doesn't either. I think it's a guy thing, and I knew that Ben probably wouldn't want me to see him cry either. "I'm gonna go now. Will you be back here."

He smiled a little bit, and I was glad to see it. "Likely."

"I hope you feel better."

"Thank you kindly."

Very quietly, I wheeled away, going back to the coloring table. I picked up my crayons again, but I couldn't think about what color to put on the pony's tail. All I could think about was Ben, and how awful it must be to be hurt and all alone like that. It wasn't fair. He seemed like a nice person, but he didn't have anyone to talk to, anyone to even give him hugs. Not even hugs.

I thought about the stuffed animal back in my room. Gramma gave it to me when I got hurt, and it used to have flowers in it's arms and a balloon around it's wrist. The balloon had sagged, and the flowers were dead, but the stuffed animal was still there. It was almost as big as I was, bright greeny-blue, with big eyes and buck teeth kinda like a rabbit. I didn't know what kind of animal it was, and Gramma told me it was a Huggalump, and it was really big like that so that it could give hugs. It gave good ones, too, very soft and warm. Almost like Gramma hugs.

I think Gramma will understand that I'm gonna give it to Ben. He needs it more than me.

THE END