Carson was rescued from the third-degree questioning when Uncle Phil came out and addressed the crowd.

“Come on everyone, back in the house. I’ve got to take care of Carson’s arm.”

He waved his hands in front of him, shooing them toward the door and encouraging them to go inside, which they did with a round of ‘nice to meetcha’ and ‘see ya later’ and ‘happy birthday’ along with Brian calling out ‘hey, remember to stay out of David’s way in the future!’ followed by everyone laughing as they headed into the house.

I grinned. “I guess you’ve figured out that my family’s a bunch of kidders and that we all love to laugh and poke fun at each other. But we’re friendly, and usually we don’t bite. Though it’s a good idea to keep your fingers out of the way when food’s around.”

Carson looked at me and smiled. “I like your family. I’ve never been around a bunch of people like your cousins. And your sisters and your brother. But ‘specially not like your cousin Brian.” He looked away for a second, then turned back and stared at me for a couple of seconds. “And I like you, too, even if it took us smashing into each other for me to meet you.” Then he blushed. I thought that was cute.

Uncle Phil motioned that I should move, so I stood up and leaned on the porch railing, and he sat down on the bench.

“Carson, I phoned Hathaway House and talked to Amanda Sanchez. She said Wayne Hagen was out. I explained what happened to you so she gave me Wayne’s cellphone number. I phoned him and he said to go ahead and take you to emergency and he’d meet us there. He asked if you needed an ambulance, and I said it was my opinion that you didn’t. I made a sling out of a couple dishtowels that will hold your arm against your chest and will keep it from moving around and hurting while we drive you to the emergency room at Redwood Hospital.”

“Okay. Uh… Uncle Phil, thanks for doing all this for me.” He paused and grinned. “Or should I call you Doctor Uncle Phil now that you’re treating me?”

I laughed. I was happy to see that Carson was getting into our family’s way of kidding each other. Just then my folks walked out onto the front porch.

Uncle Phil grinned. “It’s my job, especially when I have such a cooperative patient. And just Uncle Phil is fine. Now, let me fit this temporary sling over your left arm. Oh, before I forget, this is Cynthia and Rob Dempsey, David’s mom and dad. This is Carson Evans, the boy I was telling you about.”

Mom and Dad smiled at Carson and they both shook hands with him.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Dempsey.”

Dad replied, but of course had to include a comment about me. “Nice to meet you too, Carson. I understand my ‘always running when he should be walking and being more careful’ son David is responsible for what happened to your arm.”

“Oh, no sir. I was running to get away from a big dog and I ran into David. It was my fault.”

“A big dog?” Dad turned to me. “What dog, David?”

“First, it wasn’t Carson’s fault or my fault that we ran into each other. It was just a no-fault accident.” My dad’s expression was the one he uses when he thinks maybe what I’m telling him might be debatable. “Second, the dog was Woofie. Carson said that when he was little he was bitten by a big dog, and he’s been scared of dogs ever since.”

Mom chimed in, “But Woofie wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

“I know, I told Carson that. But he didn’t know that about Woofie. She came toward him and scared him so he started to run. You know Woofie, she thought he was playing chase with her and so she chased him. Anyway, he’d just gotten away from Woofie and we sort of smashed together when I went outside to get a package out of Uncle Phil’s car. Oh… I forgot. Uncle Phil, here’s your car keys. And the package is still there, I didn’t get it out yet.”

“Thanks, David. We can take care of the package when we get back. Now, Carson, how’s your arm feel in the sling?”

“Okay. It’s sort of buzzing inside right here.” He pointed at where his forearm was inside the sling, “but it doesn’t hurt as much right now. The sling really helps. Wearing it lets me relax instead of having to be careful of my arm.”

“Well, let’s get you to emergency and get your arm x-rayed. David, I assume you’re coming, and your dad’s decided to come along as well.”

We said goodbye to Mom, got into Uncle Phil’s SUV, and headed to Redwood Hospital.

“Carson, I phoned the hospital, and they’re expecting us in emergency. They’re not busy tonight, so as soon as we get there we’ll have an exam room available. Wayne Hagen will meet us and take care of signing you in under the Hathaway House medical insurance. Your arm will be x-rayed as soon as we arrive, and I’ll look over the x-rays and let you know the prognosis.”

“Okay.”

Carson seemed tense. I guess it was the idea of going to the hospital. I never had to go to a hospital that I could remember. Of course I was in one when I was born, but I sure don’t remember that. A lot of my friends have been in a hospital, mostly to have their tonsils taken out. Alan had his taken out and he keeps telling me about it, trying to scare me I think. It’s working ‘cause I sure don’t want to have to that operation, no way!

I decided to try to take Carson’s mind off of his arm and having to go to the hospital.

“Hey, Carson, there was someone who brought a weapon to my school last week.”

“Really? What happened?”

“A rubber band pistol was confiscated from a guy in my algebra class because it was a weapon of math disruption.” I could barely keep from laughing. At first Carson just looked confused, then he groaned.

“Oh, god, please say you’re not one of those people who spouts puns all the time!”

Now I was laughing. “Puns? Me? Never! What happed at school is that the guy was upset when he couldn’t answer a question on a quiz. Here’s the question: Who was the roundest knight at King Arthur's round table, and what did he acquire to make him that way? You said you’re a math geek, so you should know the answer to that math problem, right?”

“I can’t believe I’m participating in this. No, I don’t know the answer, David.”

“Well, it’s pretty obvious if you think about it. The knight was Sir Cumference. What he acquired to make him the roundest was too much pi.” I grinned, waiting to hear what Carson would react. It was two puns, two awful puns, in one.

“Aaaarrrrrrrggghhhhhhh! My brain just exploded from a punny overload.”

“My geography teacher went on a vacation and thought he saw an eye doctor on an Alaskan island, but it turned out to be an optical Aleutian.”

Carson shouted, “Stop, stop, stop! You’re killing me!” But he was laughing, too.

“Hey, I got a million of ‘em. Now, how about a physics lesson. No matter how much you push an envelope, it'll still be stationery.”

Now Carson was laughing so much he couldn’t talk. Uncle Phil and my dad were laughing too.

“I like Biology. We learned about the two silk worms that had a race. They ended up in a tie.

“Then there was my first day in PE this semester. I wondered why the baseball kept getting bigger. Then it hit me.

“Have you heard about the soldier who survived mustard gas and pepper spray? He’s now a seasoned veteran.”

“Enough! Enough! I surrender! I surrender!”

“Okay, just one more. Did you hear about the tribe of cannibals that ate a missionary? They got their first taste of religion.”

The laughter, and groaning, subsided. Carson was smiling, and would giggle once in a while as, I assumed, he recalled some of my wonderful puns. I could see that he’d forgotten about his arm.

“By the way, I’m the unsurpassed master of the awful pun at Hillcrest High School. Heck, in the whole school district. Maybe in the all of Contra Costa County. Ah, heck, in the entire state of California.”

Carson shook his head. “No, calling them awful puns doesn’t give them justice, David. Excruciatingly horrible puns comes closer. You should be ashamed!”

With that my dad and Uncle Phil both yelled, at exactly the same time, “I second that!” Now, that was funny.

We pulled up to the hospital emergency entrance with all four of us still laughing, and Uncle Phil turned around and looked at Carson, who stopped laughing.

“Here we are. I’m going to drop all of you off and park. Go in the emergency entrance and check in. They’ll have your name, Carson. Wayne Hagen is either here already or will be here in a little while. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Okay?”

“I guess.” Carson looked maybe a little lost, and Dad noticed that.

“David and I’ll be with you and we’ll help take care of everything.”

Carson turned to my dad and seemed relieved. “Thanks, Mr. Dempsey.”

Dad put his hand on Carson’s right shoulder, waved for me to go ahead of them, and we entered the Redwood Hospital Emergency Department. There was a woman with a small girl sitting in the waiting area, a woman at the admission desk, a guard at what I figured was the door to where the examination rooms were located, and that was it. Mr. Hagen hadn’t arrived yet, so Dad led Carson to the admission desk.

“This is Carson Evans. Doctor Phillip Dempsey called about him earlier, and he’ll be here in a few minutes. He’s parking his car and told us to get Carson checked in.”

The admissions person had a badge with her name, Virginia Holmes. She looked through some papers and pulled one out. She looked at Carson and smiled. “You’re all set. You’ll be in examination room three. Let’s get you checked in.”

Virginia entered something into her computer, and a narrow label with printing on it came out of a stubby little printer. She pulled a narrow strip of thin plastic out of a box on her desk. It had holes along one end and the other was plain. She peeled the label off of its backing and stuck it onto the plain end of the plastic strip.

”Carson?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“This is your patient ID band. I’m going to put it on your wrist. Before I do that, I want to confirm your name and ID. Your name is Carson Ryan Evans, you are fifteen years old, your birthdate is November 24th, 1996, and the last four digits of your social security number are 4721. Is that correct?”

“Yes, ma’am, except for the social security number part. I don’t know my social security number. When Mr. Hagen gets here he can tell you if that’s right.”

“You must have been in Redwood Hospital at some time, because we have your records on file.”

Carson looked surprised. “Uh, not that I know of.”

“Well, no problem. When Mr. Hagen gets here I’ll ask him to confirm your information. By the way, happy birthday. I’m sorry you have to spend part of it in the hospital.” She smiled. “Since you’re here to have your left arm examined, please hold out your right arm and I’ll put on your ID band.”

Carson did as she asked, and she put the plastic band around his right wrist like a bracelet.