Nurse Abigail’s New Patient
by Jack Somers
A little after four in the afternoon, two frizzy-haired, mud-spattered boys carried in a young black man, and together we laid him on a cot in the back of the tent. He looked too thin with hips as narrow as a child’s and a bony, hairless chest the color of cream coffee. His clothing was wild, but no wilder than anything else I’d seen over the past three days—a white leather jacket with beaded fringe and blue velvet pants that hugged the thighs and flared out at the bottom. His eyes were closed.
“What’s wrong with him?” I asked the boys. “Is he on drugs?” All of