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up at him in disbelief.
     
    “Any Insurance, money, anything?"

The tension that had built within Juicy at his question quieted and she closed her eyes. "I have a Medicaid card but that and my money was in my purse. You didn't manage to-?"

"No I didn't manage to do much but..." Mr. Cracker halted long enough to hoist her up. Juicy grimaced.

"Okay?" He asked.

"Yes." Was her weak response. "Are you carrying me to the hospital?" Because that was so crazy, to be carried to a hospital…Why didn’t someone stop to help them?

"I don't have much choice. The ambulance never came." Juicy gave him a sharp look but Mr. Cracker either ignored it or didn’t notice it.

Juicy’s world began to turn black again. "I'm really bad off Mr. Cracker..." And then she remembered no more.

***

Troy liked the name. Mr. Cracker...sounded right.

He had needed to get the lady to General Hospital where they took nameless, invisible people; like them. People drove by without stopping, without helping until finally a taxi cab had stopped. The good samaritan had given them a ride. His arms had been about to give out and he was sweating furiously by that time. But if he left her then she'd be nothing but another dead invisible person. Just like the countless others he'd seen over the years.

When they got to admittance it was already crowded wall to wall with people in various stages of illness; from drug overdose, to broken limbs, even a gunshot wound.

They placed the lady on a gurney while an intern checked her injuries. Mr. Cracker noted that she didn't wake up while they did it. They took some time to ask him questions about her. He lied about the things he didn't know...Like her name. She looked like a Shanice to him and so that became her name for the records. And because he was Mr. Cracker, she became Mrs. Cracker. Otherwise, they would shut him out...and he knew the routine. If he didn't stay around they'd leave her on the gurney until she slowly passed away, and it would be written up as if she had died of her injuries instead of died of neglect.

Mr. Cracker didn't fault anyone for this. He was too realistic for that. This hospital treated all classes of people and that the majority of their patients were the poor and uninsured meant that there was less room for the patients that could pay their bills...they came first while the invisible came last. It was just the way of the world.

Still he didn't like that she was still on the gurney an hour later. Thankfully the cops had arrived to take his statement. He got through it without stuttering much, or blacking out. Remembering Kelly helped him.

It was their insistence that she be seen immediately that finally got her into x-ray and then surgery.

Mr. Cracker felt bad that he didn't know who her next of kin was so that he could call them. Instead he played the role.

'Mr. Cracker we're so sorry, your wife's in a coma.' 'Mr. Cracker if she makes it through the next twenty four hours then it looks promising.' 'Mr. Cracker please be prepared for a vegetative state', and so on and so on and so on.

He checked the papers everyday for news of a missing person...but there wasn't any. Strange how easily Shanice had disappeared from society. After three days she wasn't in the papers, and not in the news.

But three days did signify something important; she opened her eyes.

Mr. Cracker was very happy. He'd been using her hospital shower to bathe and had been eating her meals, which they brought everyday even though she was being fed intravenously. Sloppy and a waste of money, but why should an underpaid attendant care what happened to the hospital’s money? However, when she opened her eyes that first time after three days in a coma, he was fine with giving up her meals and shower.

Juicy squinted at the sunlight streaming into the window. The first thing she noted was that she was comfortable. She was in a bed with pillows and blankets. Silently she realized that it was a hospital. Lastly, she