Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14 Pictures floated in and out of Chet's mind. Fuzzy pictures — men lifting him off the dock, the inside of Dr. Jay's motorcar, the white walls and white sheets of the hospital, unsmiling doctors shaking their heads, a pretty nurse with a soft voice. And Uncle Jerry, who always seemed to be sitting right next to Chet. Was Chet asleep? Was he awake? Was he alive or was he dead?

It was two days before Chet decided for sure he was alive, and three more before he understood what had happened to him — that the shark had ripped away part of his calf. Another few seconds and that shark would have taken off his whole leg. "It will heal," the doctor said, patting Chet on the shoulder. "It will take some time. But your leg will heal." "The miracle kid," said Uncle Jerry. "That's what the newspapers are calling you. And it's true." By then Chet had heard about the others — the boy attacked a mile down the creek from Elm Hills and the man who jumped in to try to save him. Both were dead. Chet's room was filled with flowers and cards from people all over the country. But none of it mattered to him. His leg hurt worse than it had when the shark was biting him. The medicine they gave him made him feel sick and woozy. He wanted Mama and Papa, but their train was still making its way across the country.

Every time Chet fell asleep, he woke up suddenly, shaking with fear, his bed soaked with sweat. The terror faded some when he was awake. But somehow that shark was always lurking. Its black killer eyes watching him, its bloody teeth glistening. Chet had never felt so alone.