Monday, December 9, 2013

Draigkhiun: Chapter Two, Section X



X
I hurt.
I had stayed out drinking with my platoon on the last night of muster. I was sore from a long weekend of hard drills and the beer had been cool and refreshing. It was so refreshing that I had walked home stumbling drunk.
I snuck into the darkened Tchakh Clann through the back door, by the kitchen, so as to not wake my parents. Ma and I were still not on good terms.
Halfway up the stairs, I twisted my right ankle. I stumbled on the step and wheeled over, rolling down the stairs. My ears started ringing as I banged my head on the banister. I lay in a crumpled heap in the entry; my ankle, thigh, wrists, ribs and head throbbing in nauseating pain. I tried to get up; tried to focus. I couldn’t.
I grew cold, laying in the entry and wondering if I’d woken the entire family.



“Caleb?” Someone said my name in the dark. The voice echoed to me as though it traveled down a long pipe.

I felt like I was coming out of a deep, restless dream from which I wanted to awaken but couldn’t quite find the energy necessary.
Someone carefully shifted me to a position that felt better on my thigh. I drifted back towards memories of being a sick child and how Ma cared for me. After I was better, I could never remember if they were real or just fevered dreams.
“Caleb?  Son, we’re gonna take care of you.”
I realized everything was dark because my eyes were shut. I tried to open them but couldn’t find the strength. There was a tearing at my pant leg.
“Kakamas!” a woman exclaimed. “Pap, hand me the cauterizer from my kit.”
“What about disinfecting the wounds?”
“Ma,” I mumbled, “I think I hit my head.” I wasn’t sure if I actually said it. My mouth was sluggish to work. My whole body was leaden pain.
“Damn it, Pap, he’s going into shock! Give me that fokhann thing before he bleeds out.”
“Sorry I woke ya up, Ma,” I mumbled.
“She’s not here, Caleb,” Pap responded. “Hold tight. You’ll get to see her soon.” His voice came down the long pipe, out of the night.
“Sorry I ruined the hunt, Pap.” I could vaguely remember hunting or dreaming of hunting.
“You didn’t ruin a thing.”
Someone cradled my head. I wanted to say more but I was too damned tired.

Burning points along my thigh woke me up. Someone tore through my shirt. The woman gagged.
“I’m—I’m okay,” she said. “Is that EPLB working?”
“Yes, the beacon’s on.”
“Pap, without more help, I don’t know how long he’ll last.” Grief edged her voice. She sounded almost like Cali.
Calliope?
“Keep doing what you can, Gahrinyon, they’ll get here.”
I tried to open my eyes. The world was blurry and disassociated. Rain began to splatter onto my face. I closed my eyes again.
“Fokhann kakamas!” Cali stripped her jacket off and draped it over us. I felt warmer.
“Aaahh!” Burning lines swept along my chest. Pap held me tight and kept me from twisting away from her. Everything returned to black.

“This might hurt.” I woke to Cali exploring my lower leg.
I tried not to shiver as she explored my ankle. She gently grabbed it. She was right about the hurt!
“It’s dislocated.”
I didn’t care. Only the pain mattered. I screamed and instinctively convulsed. Pap couldn’t hold me this time. I twisted out of his grip and vomited. Some of it may have landed on Pap’s lap. The darkness returned.

“Did you have to take such a risky shot?” Cali didn’t sound so much like a little girl any more. She was examining the right side of my head.
“And just what would you have done, eh?” Pap snapped. “I’m sorry, Cali, I—” His voice wavered and he shut up. His body shook as he held me.
A deep, humming drone approached us across the plains. It lulled me towards sleep.

There were new voices; lots of questions. Hands moved and prodded me. I was placed on something hard. Hands moved it into a vehicle.
Someone covered me in the warmest blanket I had ever felt. There were twinges in both arms as needles were deftly inserted.
“I’m not sure about internal injuries,” I heard Cali say. “I could only focus on stopping the bleeding.”
“You did good,” someone responded.
“He’s badly bruised but no ribs are broken. His right ankle’s dislocated, though.” Her voice trailed off through the ringing of my ears and the drone of the vehicle.
“You’re lucky she was here,” a woman’s voice commented next to me. She swam in and out of my blurry vision. I focused on her long, blond hair as she worked at placing bags onto hangers.
“Give him twenty-five mils of Piollairemin,” another voice said from behind my head. I tried to look at the man but my head was immobilized.
My body flooded with wonderful warmth and my shivering decreased. The hard board became soft and relaxing. It wrapped me in a cocoon of comfort, drew me down into it, and I floated away. 




Like what you've read so far? Find it at Amazon:
Paperback          Kindle
All content contained herein is copyrighted and the sole intellectual property of Pat Morrissey and may not be reproduced elsewhere without proper attribution.

No comments:

Post a Comment