Read The Chardon Chronicles: Season Two --- The Winter Page 2

  Chapter Two

  Berto whistled at Chloe as she walked into his room and he bounced around in his bed like he was dancing. He was wearing a white gown with a big checkerboard pattern. His buzzcut had been shaved and his dome was white and shiny.

  “Sorry I stood you up Chloe! But I couldn’t stand up.” He smiled and pointed at his leg which was wrapped in layers of bandages.

  “Dude! What happened to your hair?” Richard patted Berto’s head.

  “They needed to do some tests last night, I was like, shave it, bro, and the tech did.” He laughed. “That’ll save me $20.”

  Richard said, “I kinda like it. It’s a good look on you.”

  “I heard something big went down last night, but I didn’t get the details.” Berto said. Chloe and Richard looked at eachother. She deferred to him to tell the story.

  “Dude! It was like an action movie.” Richard said.

  “What?!” Berto said. “You mean the dance was like an action movie?”

  Richard formed his fingers into a pistol shape and said, “We were attacked by a couple of guys with guns. They tried to kill Demetria and Chloe.”

  Berto whistled a low troubled whistle. “What the?”

  Richard continued, “But Chloe was like Bruce Lee. She took one of the guys apart. The second guy shot Morgan Klerc in the arm.”

  Demetria wilted visibly. Tracy patted her arm. Richard gave her a little squeeze around the shoulders and said, “This is Demetria, his girlfriend.”

  “Consort.” she corrected.

  Berto asked, “Is he alright?”

  Tracy nodded, “Yeah, he’s right down the hall, actually. We just visited him. He’s still groggy, but on the mend.”

  Richard continued telling the story. “After this dude shot Morgan, I grabbed the gun and we wrestled for it. Then! Get this… Chloe stabbed him in the side of the head. Blood. Like a movie, dude. We did interviews with Five-O this whole morning. Evidence bags, the whole thing.”

  Chloe said, “My homecoming queen sash and crown are evidence. I’m guessing that’s the first time that ever happened.”

  Berto clicked his tongue a couple of times and whistled low again, “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.” He looked at Chloe to see if the incident left any visible impression on her. She looked the same as a couple days before.

  She sat next to him on the bed. “How’s the leg?” She was a little afraid to ask, because she already knew the answer.

  “FUBAR. I mean, I can’t feel it right now because I’m on some major pain meds, but it’s completely out of commission. I can’t even wiggle my toes.” He looked at his foot and lines of concentration formed on his brow, but the toes just refused to move. He sighed and continued on, “The doctor was as blunt as a rock to the head about it. I’m done with football--he said concentrate on walking for the next year.”

  “Oh no!” Chloe said. She was aghast.

  “Shoot… Is it just the knee?” Richard asked hopefully. He’d been around lots of injuries since he started playing varsity sports and saw people come back from bone breaks, sprains, and ACL tears. Knee injuries usually took people out for at least a season.

  “Not just an ACL. The whole knee joint BOOM. Then something with my hip. I don’t remember what he called it. Anyway, I’m going to be in a wheelchair for 4 weeks before I even start rehab!” Berto said.

  Richard said, “Dude, that’s harsh.”

  “Holy moly!” Chloe said. “If there’s anything we can do to help, let me know.”

  Tracy said, “We’re here for you, Berto. My family, too.”

  Berto said, “I appreciate that. I’ll be outta here later today. Just do your best to treat me normally. I’ll be so bored at home and my mom will smother me! I can’t stand being babied, so please visit frequently!”