One hour. Aubrey looked at the clock. Aubrey had been sitting… lying on a stretcher in the hallway for an hour. Every time an X-ray employee passed by, her heartbeat with excited anticipation that maybe, just maybe they would take her back for her schedule x-ray.

The leg. At first the leg impossible to ignore. At first she just lay there on the court writhing in pain. She had completely forgotten about all the other players on the court, and the people in the stands. She couldn’t even hear herself scream. Time was standing still.

Gradually the leg became easier to ignore. This was only possible because the paramedics and ER nurses made generous deposits of painkillers into Aubrey’s blood stream. Both reassured her that their contribution would take the edge off of the pain. The edge? It felt like a little more than that.

That edge everybody kept referring to felt as though it were returning. The edge might have actually been an accurate reference. After all it was probably the edge of a broken tibia, fibula, or whatever other broken bone was digging into her leg.

30 minutes later Aubrey found herself back in her quaint little curtained off area of the emergency room. The edge was now back full force. It was clear to her that it was in fact much more than an edge. It felt like an ice pick was swimming around in her leg, cutting through muscle fibers as it squirmed around in her leg.

Her season was definitely over. Possibly her career as well. Her season had just begun and now it was over. This had only been Aubrey’s second game of her freshman season. The University had given her a full scholarship for her superb volleyball playing skills. They wanted her to be a part of their team, their family. The end of her season might possibly mean the end of a scholarship too.

"How are you doing?" A familiar voice brought Aubrey back from mental limbo to reality. Her head darted upward to confirm that the familiar voice did in fact belong to a smiling face that belonged to her volleyball coach. Coach Jane Reeves. Coach Reeves was a plainly pretty woman. On the court Coach Reeves was all business. She was a determined slave driver, but off the court she was a kind and personable woman. On the court she insisted that her girls refer to her as "Coach Reeves," but off the court she encouraged them to call her Jane.

"Okay, I guess. It is starting to hurt again." Hurt really wasn’t even the right word. It throbbed, it ached, and ay other word that involved the presence of pain.

"Is it broken?" Coach Reeves (or was it Jane?) stared at Aubrey’s bare left leg resting in the splint.

Aubrey forced herself to stop looking at her leg. It wasn’t that it was turned or twisted at some grotesque angle; she just couldn’t bare to look at it. It seemed to hurt more every time she looked at it. It even had a broken look to it. It looked normal and broken at the same time. The broken look was more of a psychological thing. If legs had emotion, Aubrey’s leg would be exuding the emotion of "broken."

"In my opinion or in the doctor’s opinion?" Aubrey tried to maintain her wit even in the hospital.

"The doctor’s opinion." The team must have lost. Jane seemed kind of down. She took losses very personally. She felt they reflected on her as a coach rather than the girls as players.

"The doctor hasn’t given me his opinion yet. I just got back from x-ray. I’m almost positive it’s broken. Probably in multiple places." Aubrey tried to be honest with herself as much as possible.

"It happens to the best of us, kiddo. If not once, then multiple times. Pretty much all the girls on the team have broken, twisted, or torn something. If they haven’t then their time will run out soon." Coach Reeves little talk helped mildly.

"What about you?"

"I’ve broken my right leg twice. Same place each time. My first broken bone was playing soccer my senior year of high school. I spent almost the whole spring semester in plaster. I had to limp across the stage in my walking cast at graduation. The second break was my very first year of coaching." Aubrey made a mental note to ask about that story at a later date. It was probably a gem of a story.

"Is it bad?" Aubrey was pretty scared about the whole process.

"The worst part is the actual breaking of the bone. After they’ve casted you or inserted a rod somewhere then it is more of an inconvenience than anything." Aubrey wasn’t too comfortable with the prospect of surgery. Her uneasiness worsened when Dr. Benson entered her curtained abode.

Dr. Benson was a nice man. He had been a lot kinder than her nurse had been. He talked to her like a human being as opposed to someone educationally inferior. The compassion in his voice was genuine instead of forced.

"How bad is it?" The knots in Aubrey’s stomach tightened and tied themselves into even bigger knots.

"Its bad, but not too bad. Both the tibia and fibula are broken, but the displacement of each is very minimal. Surgery definitely won’t be necessary." Dr. Benson studied the x-rays again making sure he didn’t miss anything. Aubrey’s nerves had been calmed mildly.

"If not surgery then what?" Isn’t that all there is anymore? This break seems a little too bad for one of those Velcro boot thingers." Aubrey said.

Dr. Benson chuckled at Aubrey’s medical cynicism, "Believe it or not, but we do still do casts. The plan of attack is going to be getting you transferred over to the ortho clinic, getting the leg set, and casting it. I’ve already written out the order for the cast."

"What about volleyball? This season is obviously no good, but will I be able to play again?" Aubrey asked the question that was on both she and Coach Reeves’ minds.

"You’ll definitely make a full recovery," Aubrey and Coach Reeves both let out a sigh of relief, "After the cast is removed and some physical therapy you’ll be as good as new for next season."

Dr. Benson rummaged around through one of the pockets on his lab coat, and drew out a business card, "Here is a card for my clinic. Call tomorrow and make an appointment for a check-up in about a week or two. I’d really love to stay and do the cast myself, but duty calls."

"Well then who is going to do it?" Aubrey asked confused.

"The ortho clinic. They do an excellent job."

"Well thank you for everything, and for being so nice to me." Aubrey shook is warm hands.

"See you soon." Dr. Benson left Aubrey’s not so secluded emergency room hideout.

"I’m sorry, kiddo, but this is also my cue to leave. My husband is working late tonight, and the chillins’ sure as hell won’t feed themselves." The look in Jane’s eyes was that of empathy and a true regret that she had to leave.

"Okay." Aubrey wrapped her arms tightly around Jane when she leaned down to hug her.

"If you are feeling up to it, you should stop by practice tomorrow. I’m sure the girls would love to see you, and leave their personal ramblings and Joan Hancock’s all over your cast. I’m sure it would also put poor Katie mind at ease. She feels absolutely terrible about what happened. Poor thing would never hurt a fly." Jan glanced down at Aubrey’s left leg; it would be the last time she’d see it bare for a while.