"Has anyone told you?"

Monique's voice was so grim and tight that Casey knew immediately that something was terribly wrong.

"Is he hurt? Not dead, oh please God, not dead!"

"I'll be right over."

Casey waited outside, pacing, crying, wondering why it took so long to drive just a couple of blocks. The two women wept, hugged, whimpered and went over the few known facts over and over endlessly.

"We don't know. He's in the hospital. They're doing all they can."

More buckets of tears.

Daryl had come up from a dive. Some other guys were playing around along the edge of the pool. Pushed, shoved, dumped, a big kid hit Daryl in the backbone with one heel. The hospital said only that tests were being made, they would know nothing until they had the results.

The long drive was dreadful. It was devastating to see him lying there hooked up to tubes, wires and stretched like a torture rack. He didn't know anything. He was knocked out with painkillers.

They stayed until the nurses ran them off. Nothing they could do except get in the way.

"If we could do something. If we knew what was happening."

"He'll be okay, darling. Think positively."

"But suppose he can't walk or dive anymore."

"Or fuck?"

Casey looked at Monique. "I wouldn't care! I'd still love him. I'm his woman. We'd manage somehow. There are lots of guys out there who've lost legs and are paralyzed and they have women who love them. They manage somehow."

"You're right, of course. But don't try to hide from reality. Most of them are great guys, just as loving and horny as the others or more so. But, and that is a large but, most of them live very lonely lives, most women feel compassion but it doesn't extend to fucking them. It can be extremely difficult for both. Don't make a lot of noble promises that you'll regret and feel guilty about later."