Chapter 9
They moved me to a room with a bed that was too high and a TV I didn't ask for. My leg didn't have the blue splint anymore. It had white gauze and tape that pulled when I moved. The nurse in the blue scrubs from before had gone, and a different nurse kept checking the monitor that beeped by my bed.
A woman came in with a clipboard and sat in the plastic chair next to me. She said her name was Ms. Alvarez and she was with CPS. She had short hair and wore a gray cardigan and she didn't smile too much.
She asked if I remembered what my dad said about the playground. I said I didn't hear him say it to her. She said she wanted to tell me what he told her, so I knew what was happening.
My dad told her I fell off the top of the slide at the elementary school park yesterday around five. She said he said I was playing in my blue shorts and I slipped on the ladder and my leg hit the metal edge on the way down. He said he put the bright blue splint on because it was left from my cousin and it had my favorite colors and it would make it feel better until the doctor could see it. She read it exactly like he told her and she watched my face while she did it.
I didn't know what to say. My dad did give me those colors. That's what I told the nurse. "My dad gave me those colors." I remembered saying it when she took the splint off and my leg was bleeding and purple and I wanted her to put it back.
Ms. Alvarez nodded and said thank you for listening. She said the doctors needed to check if that story matched what they saw.
Later two people came in together. One was a doctor in a white coat with a badge that said ER and the other was Ms. Alvarez again. The doctor knelt so his eyes were level with my bed. He didn't touch my leg right away. He asked if it was okay to talk about what they found.
He said the bruising on my shin and knee was deep and dark and it went all the way around my leg, not just on the front where a slide would hit. He said there were two different colors of bruises, which meant they happened at different times, not all at once yesterday. He said the cut was from something scraping hard, not a clean bump, and the swelling was more than a single fall would make. He said it in a quiet way, like he was telling Ms. Alvarez but making sure I heard it too.
Ms. Alvarez wrote it down. She asked the doctor if a fall from a slide ladder could do that one time. The doctor said no, not like this. He said the pattern didn't line up with a short fall onto metal. He said he had to write that down because it was his job to tell the truth about injuries.
I stared at the white blanket. My hands were under it. I felt hot and cold at the same time. I wanted to say my dad wasn't lying, but my throat got tight and I didn't have words.
Ms. Alvarez left and came back with another man who had a county badge on his belt. He didn't come to my bed. He stood by the door and talked low with Ms. Alvarez and the doctor in the hallway where I could half hear them. I heard Ms. Alvarez say "safety hold" and "cannot go home tonight" and "placement options."
When she came back in alone she sat down again and moved her chair closer. She said she knew I loved my dad and I was being loyal by holding onto the blue colors he gave me. She said grown-ups were supposed to keep kids safe and right now my leg needed to stay safe so doctors could keep helping it.
She said the team had decided I would not go home with my dad tonight. She said that wasn't a punishment for me and it wasn't forever, but it was the rule when doctors and parents said different things and the injury was so bad. She said they placed a safety hold, which meant the hospital had to keep me safe until they figured out the next place for me to sleep.
I asked where I would go. My voice cracked and I hated it.
She said they were calling my aunt first, then a licensed foster home nearby that took kids for short stays. She said someone I knew or someone trained to be kind would be with me. She said my dad would be told in the family conference room down the hall and he couldn't take me from the hospital.
I pulled the blanket up to my chin. The gauze itched. I thought about the bright blue splint with the black straps sitting on the counter in the first exam room. My dad had handed it to me and said those were my colors, strong colors. I had believed him.
I asked if I did something wrong by letting the nurse take it off.
Ms. Alvarez shook her head right away. She said no. She said letting her see it was the right thing, even though it was scary. She said I didn't have to choose tonight what was true about the slide. She said my job was just to rest and let my leg heal.
May you like
Down the hall a door opened and closed. I heard a man's voice get loud for a second then go quiet. I knew it was my dad being told he couldn't take me home.
Ms. Alvarez stayed in the chair while the monitor beeped. She didn't try to make me talk more. I kept my hands under the blanket and looked at the taped gauze and waited for someone to tell me where I would sleep.
