Percival Everett - Wounded

“We’re in a cave,” I said.

“A cave?”

I imagined he felt his body and realized he was naked. “John, what’s going on here?”

I turned my light on again. “You got drunk, had a fight with your father, ran out into the snow with sneakers and no jacket, I followed you into the woods, found you, and brought you here to get warm.”

“I’m naked.”

“You were soaked.”

He was quiet while he sat there reconstructing the previous night, the flashlight illuminating the ceiling. “I got drunk,” he said.

“I’ll say.”

“Where am I?” he asked again.

“I brought you into this cave to get warm. It was closer than the house. How do you feel?”

“I don’t know.” I thought I heard him start to cry. He grabbed his shirt from near him on the ground and pulled it over his lap. “My toes hurt.”

“We’ll have to look at them later,” I said. “I’ve got to get you back to the house. You’re going to wear my boots.”

“I didn’t wear boots?” he asked.

“Like I told you, you ran out in your sneakers.” I was concerned that he still seemed disoriented.

“Shit.”

I nodded. “It’s relatively warm in here,” I told him. “But it’s freezing out there. We’re lucky, at least the snow has stopped. There are some people worried to death about us.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t worry about that now. Let’s just get home. Get dressed. Put on my jacket as well.”

“What about you?”

“I’m in better shape than you are, that’s for sure. Just do like I said. Get dressed and meet me over by the entrance.”

“My toes really hurt,” he said.

I put the light on them. They were frostbitten, that was certain. I didn’t know how badly. And since I didn’t know, it was unclear to me whether I should try to thaw them out or leave them alone. I took off my socks. “Here put these on. Yours are still wet.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll wear your sneakers. Now, hurry up.”

I was tightening the cinch when he joined me. He could barely walk. The front of his clothes were open.

“I can’t do the buttons,” he said. “My fingers hurt.”

I fastened up his trousers, shirt, and jacket.

I stuck a sneakered foot in the stirrup, thankful that his feet were slightly larger than mine, climbed up into the saddle, and then leaned down to help him onto the horse behind me. He was staring at my eyes and I was fairly sure he was remembering having kissed me.

“Come on, son, I’ve got to get you someplace warm, both of us someplace warm.” He took my arm. “Put your foot in the stirrup,” I said. I pulled him up. “We’re not going to ride fast, but it’s steep in places, so hold tight.” His clasped his hands around my waist. I rubbed the App’s neck. “Sorry, old girl.”

We rode off. The sky was clear and the snow was deep in places. My bare feet in the sneakers were aching and I could only imagine what they would have felt like sunk down into the snow and what David’s feet must have felt like. There was not much wind at first, but when we came around the last turn and started down the hill, a breeze tore through my shirt and reminded me of all sorts of things. I was sick with the fact that Morgan and Gus would be worried. I was concerned about the horse; I wanted to bring her into the house. I was concerned about David’s fingers and toes. The cold air made my nipples as tight and painful as I had ever felt them. But now I could see the house and so some kind of end. “There’s the house,” I said.

David didn’t respond. I could feel his breathing, but I couldn’t tell whether he was asleep or unconscious. As much as I hated to, I asked the App to trot across the big meadow. She was huffing.

I hit the south gate and saw a sheriff’s rig parked by the house. I called out and Morgan came blasting through the back door, calling out behind her for Gus. Gus and Bucky followed and they ran to us. Bucky and Gus took David down. He was just awake and again trying to get his bearings. They helped him into the house. Morgan helped me out of the saddle, hugged me tightly.

“Into the house,” she said.

“The horse,” I said. I loosened the girth.

“I’ll take care of the horse,” she said. “She can stand for a minute.”

“Okay,” I said. “She saved me, Morgan.” I could feel that I was a little disoriented, too, that perhaps I was suffering from the onset of hypothermia. “Into the house,” I said.

“Where are your boots?” she asked.

“The boy is wearing them.”

Morgan helped me up the steps and in through the back door. The house felt flat-out hot. But that was good. I knew that was good. My feet ached like mad as blood and feeling tried to creep back into them. Morgan took me into the living room and sat me in front of the stove.

“The horse,” I said.

“Okay, I’ll go out now.” She stroked my face, her hand feeling so warm. “You rest.”

“Make sure you get all the ice out of her feet. Get her legs good and warm and rub them down with liniment, put her in a closed stall, put a blanket on her, give her some grain.”

Morgan patiently listened, almost smiling. “Okay, sweetie.”

“Rub her ears a bit, the tips.”

“All right.”

I drifted off to sleep.

I awoke to voices. Zoe was lying with me on the sofa, her back to me. I stroked her fur and felt her breathing. Gus’s doctor, a fat man named Pep Clayton, was standing not far from me talking to Morgan. I sat up and Zoe moved to the floor. Clayton and Morgan turned to me.

“Pep,” I said.

“John.”

“Am I dead or do I just feel like it?”

“You just feel like it.” He put a hand on my face. “You’re fine. You no doubt saved that young man’s life.”

I tried to stand, but felt weak. I noticed that my feet didn’t ache. Someone had put thick socks on me.

The doctor put a hand on my shoulder and pressed me back into the sofa. “You need to rest.”

“How’s David?” I asked.

“He’s resting in the other room,” Morgan said.

“He could be worse,” Clayton said. “He’ll make it through this just fine.”

“What about his feet?” I looked at Clayton’s eyes.

“He’ll lose a few nails, but no toes. His fingers are all right.” Clayton sat beside me. “How’d you make it through the night?”

“I took him into a cave. He was soaked and it was closer than the house. It’s warmer in there. His belly was like ice.”

“He’s pretty weak. He’ll probably sleep for a while. I told his father and Morgan that they have to keep him warm, massage his limbs, keep the blood flowing.”

“How’s the horse?” I looked at Morgan.

She smiled at me. “The horse is fine.”

“Is David asleep now?” I asked.

Morgan nodded.

Gus came into the room. “I’m glad to see you in one piece,” he said.

“Me, too.” I looked at the window and at the bright light outside. “What time is it?”

“Nearly two,” the doctor said.

“Two,” I repeated. I was still trying to wrap my mind around all that had happened. “Where’s Howard?”

“He’s pretty shaken up,” Gus said. “He’s sitting in there with David. Pamela’s in the kitchen. She’s making soup, she says.”

I looked at the fire in the stove. It was hissing and popping with a new log. I reached down and rubbed Zoe’s head.

“Well, I’ll be going,” Clayton said. “There’s not much else for me to do around here.”

“Thanks for coming out here, Pep.”

“I’ll see you out,” Morgan said and walked away with the doctor toward the front door.

“Is Bucky here?” I asked Gus.

“No, once he saw you were both here, he left.”