Descending Star

BIRTHDAY

Ben worked himself on the stairs to the point where the railings alone sufficed for support. The crutches leaned cold at the front door. On the day of high school graduation, Charlie knocked off work early to take Ben to the hospital, where Dr. Niland supervised the removal of the full length cast from his leg. This reduced his count of props by one, but only briefly: it was replaced by a smaller cast around his upper leg, and a semi-rigid boot. Both devices were joined at the knee by a hinged brace.

"Great," Ben complained. "I came here with seven casts. Now I have eight."

"Looks like progress to me," said Charlie, with a pleased grin.

"Definite progress," Dr. Niland. "It's high time you start using that leg again. Like I said in the beginning: little steps."

"I suppose."

Dr. Niland went on to say that Ben had been using the rigid leg cast for support, and now he would have to go back onto the crutches until he grew accustomed to the restoration of flexion at the knee. His musculature had atrophied to a small but measurable degree and would need to be built back up.

Edythe met him back at the house. She instantly registered the change and gave him a big smile.

Ben felt so uplifted by his new freedom that he felt like he needed to show himself off. He suggested dropping in on Jacob. "I've heard so much about this garage of his," the famed dingy oil-soaked grotto in which his ancient red Chevy had been resurrected from the grave.

She asked him, didn't he want to see Rex and Emmie graduate high school for the fourteenth time? Then she hastily reassured him that she'd only been joking. Esme had flown all the way out from Rochester to attend, but the graduates themselves were doing it only for her benefit, being utterly indifferent to the proceedings, and there would be no party afterward. The graduates were planning on going straight from the high school to the warehouse in Tacoma, where the last-minute change to the itinerary had completely upended all of their preparations. "They'll be back tomorrow night, for my birthday," she added with detestation. "And Alice, too. With an edible cake," she snarled, martyred.

Ben noticed that she didn't mention Jasper. He wondered if Jasper could spare one evening off from the hunt for Victor.

"Now as to popping in on Jacob, I'm sure Dr. Niland would agree that you can't drive, yet. You could always invite him down. I'm sure he'd take you up on it."

In fact, he likely couldn't. Last Ben had heard, the Black household had been left without a working vehicle, because Jacob had dismantled the Rabbit's semi-functional transmission and had so hopelessly jumbled its components with various collections of junkyard parts that he'd been struggling for days to put it all back together again. "Besides, I really wanted to see the famed skunkworks behind his house. I was actually kind of hoping you'd agree to drive me."

She considered that proposition shrewdly and wondered if he might be setting her to some kind of thinly veiled test. Ben knew about the ancient treaty that strictly segregated the two groups on opposing sides of a northeasterly demilitarized zone. Additionally, big Sam Uley had told Ben, not too long ago, that the Cullens would never have the temerity to step foot on Tribal land. She accused, "You're guessing I won't take you, due to some dusty old pact. You're just angling to drive there, yourself."

Her conclusion cracked him up. He easily laughed, "Not at all. Jake's been to the hospital. And the whole lot of them were apparently at my house for a venison roast of all things, while I was out cold with a coma. Those dogs have violated their precious treaty ten times over. Mostly I'm still irritated by what that bully, Sam Uley, said about you on their crappy beach. I'm seriously hoping you'll take me, just to rub their faces in it."