Surviving Solitude Part 6
Daniel looked so peaceful sleeping on Grant's bed. Then again, he's been sleeping a lot lately. It worried me that one day... He'll never wake up. That his chest will fall and never get back up. Looking at the fluffy leg of his, it reminded me of when my father worked with a wounded cow. Then an idea strict me square in the head. I walked over to the end of the bed where his head was, and kissed his forehead. This apparently stirred him up.
"Huh?" He said half asleep. I went over to sit at the end of Grant's bed.
"Hi sleepy head. You miss him?"
"What? Oh. Yeah, I miss all of them." Daniel said, sitting upright against the backboard of the bed.
"Well we need to clean your wound," I said, patting his calf, "can't just leave it there for three days under a towel."
"Hey, uh, I gotta pee. So, can you help me?"
"Sure" I said annoyed. Did he even listen to what I said about his wound? Well, at least we don't have to worry about staining the bed further than what already happened.
After he used the toilet, I dragged him into the tub. Then I looked under the sink and found a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. I just know it because of what my dad used on the cow.
"Ok, sit still." I breathed out. Daniel's eyes widened and his arms grabbed the edges of the tub like he was in a fight or flight stance."Hey hey, calm down," I said, "here, use this to bite down on." I tossed him a clean cloth.
"Why?" Asked the wolf as he took the cloth in his mouth, and I taking the bloody one out of his leg. It looked dark, scabs outlined the entire insides of it. Poor guy, going to go through this. It seemed fine, it still had fresh spots. I looked up at his eyes before I made my move. The lid came off, and on it went into his wound. It sizzled and hissed as he cringed. Next, I quickly left to retrieve a lighter and an arrowhead.
The second I entered the room, he yelled, "Oh hell no!"
"If you flex your leg and no blood comes out, then I'll put these away." I said with emphasis on the word 'then'. He looked down at his leg, then back at me.
"It hurts too much."
"Oh stop being a baby, or I'll make you flex." His eyes searched mine for mercy, for an escape route. But there were none for him. He needed care until Nate and the others get back. After all, Nate is the only one here with any medical background around here. Lately, he's been teaching Grant and I some things here and there; things useful in minor situations.
Daniel, so far, did nothing but look at his leg for the past minute. As time flew by, my patience began to deplete much more quickly than anticipated. Eventually, it got the better of me.
"Here comes Mr. Tickles!" I exclaimed as I dove for his feet. He laughed so loud, and in such a cute way, I smiled a toothy grin. It's been a long time since he laughed like that. In fact, I got a little stiffie working on an expansion over here. I just hope his wound is sealed so I don't have to hurt him. Looking down, the dark crevice in his fluffy leg still shone a maroon red. Not a drop of blood was present.
* * *
An old goat stood at the corner of the dining room, with a straw of wheat nuzzled between his teeth. His cowboy hat, plaid red shirt, dark blue jeans, and brown boots clearly stated the rest of his agenda. Not to mention his crossed arms, leaning against the wall in a dark corner. The mistress had on a pale pink dress, a bonnet, and a large apron at the front of her. Her goat ears stuck out of her hat like a sore thumb, also she sat in front of me. Martin, to my right at the end, just smiled his funny face at us with his legs swinging back and forth under the table like a pair of swings.
Dinner was more of a ritual to our senses. The aroma in the room was wonderful. All those pungent smells of meat, black pepper, and freshly-made biscuits soothing my lungs with comfort. However the smell is half as pleasing to the nose, as to the eye. The meat was as large as a 16 eggs in a 4x4 grid shape. Steam rose from both biscuit and meat. They danced their offerings to our noses like we were gods. The people were of a dark red color, and a bright, fluffy-yellow color. The touch of the bun was warm, kinda like Nate's flesh out in the field. As it crunched under my teeth, my tongue was drenched in a buttery goodness.
"So where ya'll from?" Asked the old goat as he went to join us.
"We are from the Sowinski farm south of Regrove, heard of it?" Said Nate for me. I had my mouth full of that savory biscuit.
"Old man Jeff Sowinski? Good man," he said, looking at me, "yeah, delicious." I looked at him perplexed. "Oh, no. The food I meant." We laughed awkwardly.
That night, we stayed in a full bed, in a spare room. They seemed nice, and I learned their names, too. Margaret was the mother of Martin, and Billy was the the kid's grandfather. They even mentioned that Martin had a dad that left town three days ago, but hasn't returned yet. The thoughts of the intruder came into my mind, thinking we could be in the house of the people we harmed. I pushed it aside and focused on Nate. He slept in my arms, his quiet breathing made me feel calm. As long as I have him, I know I can go on.