Greg carried Julie down the halls of the hospital. Her paunchy legs, clad in black tights, encircled Greg's side as they walked to see Robert. Even on short notice, Rebecca made her daughter sparkle. A fanciful pink tutu rounded out Julie's ensemble, and it bounced in time with Greg's loafers. Julie's tiny pink crocks hung in the crease of Greg's side, like a rock-climber scaling a vertical sheath of stone. Her black long-sleeve shirt was spotted randomly with bright pink stars.  Greg had thrown on the same pair of chinos, which he jokingly called his lucky pair. Whether luck or misfortune befell Greg, he would most likely have on the one pair of slacks. He did however, decide to buy a better button down shirt. People weren't as likely to notice pants as they would if he wore the same shirt repeatedly.
    Rebecca followed the two, humming to herself and swinging her Louie Vatton handbag back and forth like a little girl on a walk through the park. Her youthful appearance was further accented by her ruffled dress.  The outfit was a checkered green, with layered creases down the length of the skirt. Her matching green and white checkered socks adorned her feet, which were slipped into white high heels. Greg had joked that she looked straight outta Kansas, and should be called Dorothy. She hadn't seen the similarity until Greg pointed it out, and then even she remarked there was a close resemblance, although Judy Garlands dress had been blue and white. Originally intending to wear her hair up, Rebecca opted to have a loose ponytail, to further the archetype of the lil gal from the Wizard of Oz.
    The dress was cute, but borderline brazen. Greg also joked that she looked ready to go to prom, as well. Rebecca's eyes crumpled slightly at this razing, and Greg discontinued his one-upmanship. She could tease, and be teased, but when a woman dresses up, she wants to be complimented, not ridiculed.
    Greg felt the curl of Julie's fingers as she grabbed hold for balance on a loose flap of shirt on his shoulder, then hung on continuously until they reached Robert's room. Julie was imprinting Greg into her development, or so Rebecca had explained, via her psychologist friend again. Whatever that meant, it was alright with Greg. People were looking at Greg, Julie, and Rebecca like they were a family. Greg felt puffed up with dignified manor. He lead the way, a girl in his arm that could be his daughter, and an amazing lady that could be his wife.
    He knocked on Robert's door. There was the sound of bed springs as the resident patient shifted, and Greg heard the voice of his friend for the first time in months.
    "Come in!!" Roberts voice shouted gleefully. Things were already better than Greg's last visit. Robert could actually hold a conversation now. Yippee!!
Greg held the door open for Rebecca, who looked radiant in her attire.
    She had been more than a little confused when Greg had initially pulled into the hospital parking lot.
"What're we doing here?" Rebecca had asked with a stupefied look on her gorgeous face.
"There was another man who was shot that day," Greg says, opening Rebecca's van door to grab Julie from the kid seat, "Do you remember?"
Rebeccas hands clasp to her mouth and her widened eyes show she does in fact recall.
    "Robert?" she asks gingerly.
    Robert is poised on the edge of the bed, while a nurse ties the shoelaces of his sneakers. He has gained almost all of his weight back, which actually wasn't much to begin with. Robert had seemed almost skeletal in those waning hours of the coma. Now he was lively, and wore a huge grin, along with those colossal specs he wore.
    "Hello, all!!" Robert says cheerfully, "Looks like I've got some visitors!!"
    Rebecca steps forward, heels clacking on the hard floor. Greg remarked once again it was a wonder woman could walk in those shoes at all. Greg's ankles would be all mangled after only a day of wearing them. But Rebecca did not have the weight that Greg did to contend with.
Rebecca plunks down right beside Robert and puts an arm around his back.
    "Hello sir!!" she says blissfully, "Do you remember me?"
Robert crooks his arm against his side and tilts his head.
"how can I forget you, lil lady?" Robert says in an eerily spot-on John Wayne impression, "I had a run-in with a crazy injun who pumped me full of lead."
    Roberts impression breaks up with a series of muted coughs. Rebecca pats Robert's back lightly.
    "Oh my, are you okay?" She asks, concerned.
"take it easy, robert," The nurse recommends, as she rises to her feet. She too also puts her hands on robert, feeling his pulse and placing the back of her hand in front of his nostrils to detect his rate of breathing. The nurse studies the clock, calculating his pulse, inhalation and exhalation.
    "He's improved drastically since when he first came in," the nurse says offhandedly, as she multitasks, "were you aware he was in a coma?"
    Rebecca shakes her head, the ponytail whipping back and forth marginally.
Robert sees Julie and his smile returns, despite his respiratory ailments.
    "I'm sucking air like a vacuum," Roberts says with difficulty, "I've only got one windbag inside me now."
    Robert raps his chest lightly with his hand, and Greg knows he is referring to his removed lung. How sad, would Robert be able to resume his rigorous running?
    "To tell you the truth, we've had to confine him to bedrest," The nurse says with a touch of mischievousness, "He won't sit still for nothing."
    "i was just about ready to go on a little stroll," Robert says, as the nurse lines up a walker in front of him, "Care to join me?"
"I'd love to," Rebecca says prettily.
    Greg and the nurse scoop up Robert from his bedside, and only let go when they feel sure Robert won't keel over. Two tennis balls have slits cut into them, and enfold over the rubber stoppers on the legs of the walker. The balls glare brightly, as if turning signals for Robert's walking aid.
    Greg feels torn between sympathy and celebration. On one hand, it's great to see Robert up and around, but it is also heart-rendering to see him struggle to merely put one leg in front of the other. Robert cannot say much. His low grunts of effort show the enormous effort expelled. Perspiration beads on his forehead. The nurse speaks to Greg and Rebecca as they slowly follow Robert's pace.
    "When he was shot, a few nasty shards of bone punctured his lung, along with the bullet," the nurse says absently, as her focus is divided, "We thought we got most of the bone shards removed, but there was one stubborn piece that we just couldn't find, and it kept puncturing little holes when he breathed. We opened him up once more after the initial operation, and we did find the bone. But we also found a nasty infection building up around the lining of the lung. We tried to treat it with antibiotics, but then pneumonia set it. The bacteria grew up a resistance to the drugs, and we had to remove the lung entirely."
    "Don't sound so sorry," Robert says through pursed lips, "You guys did all you could. I wouldn't be here if you hadn't."
    "We think perhaps the trauma of the third operation might have jarred him from the coma," the nurse comments, "Of course, that's only a guess. The brain can go haywire for months, or years, and suddenly snap back on like a lightswitch."
    Rebecca made a conscious attempt to touch Robert on the shoulders, rub his back, and she even gave him a smooch on his thin cheek. She had heard statistics from nursing students at her college which showed human interaction helps the healing process dramatically. Robert soaked up the attention, his eyes closing peacefully as he felt her soft dress press against him in a hug. Difficulty breathing or not, Robert inhaled her fragrance with deep breathes. All that tender feminine attention seemed to transfer akin to something like osmosis.
    She felt a guilt at having overlooked Robert's own heroics. Greg hadn't acted alone. The more she pondered it, the more she saw that Robert helped save lives too. Not all good deeds are noticed. Greg had relative fanfare highlighting his efforts, while Robert had suffered, hanging between life and death. They lapped around the hospital, passing the gift shop. Rebecca stayed behind, with Julie in her arms as she bought a large flower arrangement, and several balloons for good measure from the souvenir store. Rebecca bumbled back to the room, balloons rumpling and trailing behind her like tangible thought bubbles. The silvery floating messages read: Get Well Soon!!!, Heard you were Sick, We Care About Your Health.
    Rebecca had trouble getting in the door. Greg took Julie from her to lighten her load. Rebecca wrangled the troublesome spheres onto Robert's bedside tray. Robert, who was single, marveled at this enthusiastic babe who was more than willing to cheer him up. Her attempts worked quite well.
    Robert looked depleted, just from the small distance trekked around the complex. Greg assisted in swinging Roberts legs back onto the bed. Greg stood over him, Julie clinging to him tightly. Robert held out a hand and Julie grasped his finger with consideration. Roberts strength failed and his digit slipped from little Ju-Ju's clutches. Robert's cheery eyes closed, and his chest rose and fell, if a little bit lop-sided because of his asymetrical lungs.
    Before they departed, Rebecca leaned in and kissed Robert gently on the forehead, and whispered a message that only Robert could hear. It must have been a thankful speech, because Rebecca clasped Roberts hand while he murmured something to her that was also inaudible. As the three marched out of his room, Robert waved goodbye with an unsubstantial motion. The door closed, leaving the recuperating man to rest.

LINK TO PART 58: http://www.ebaumsworld.com/blogs/view/82473252/