Part 21 (1/2)
”Lloyd used it.”
”And what, he thought we were right around the corner from Wal-Mart?” Mitch.e.l.l spat into the sand. ”I pay three thousand bucks and you can't provide me with a five-dollar roll of gauze?”
All this time the Mother b.i.t.c.h had been sitting off to the side, flossing. Shoot this guy Shoot this guy, she said. Tie him to a rock. Let him fry Tie him to a rock. Let him fry.
At that point, Lena spoke up in what seemed to everyone to be the first time she'd said much of anything the entire trip.
”Mitch.e.l.l,” she said. ”Behave yourself. We're a group, and someone else got hurt, and we used up the gauze. We didn't mean to but we did.” Her use of the first-person plural reminded everyone that she did indeed teach kindergarten. ”Now give me your handkerchief, and take this,” and she handed him a paper towel.
”Do I need st.i.tches?” he asked her.
”No,” said Lena. ”You don't need st.i.tches. There's a lot of blood, but trust me, it's a small cut. Head cuts are like that.”
”Lie down, Mitch.e.l.l,” said Dixie.
”I'll bet if I walked into the ER right now, they'd give me st.i.tches,” Mitch.e.l.l said. ”Now I'll have a scar. But hey, what's the big deal? Fifty-nine-year-old guy, why should he care about his face?”
”Come on, Mitch.e.l.l. Lie down,” said JT.
”I wouldn't be surprised if this dog has rabies,” said Mitch.e.l.l.
”The dog does not have rabies,” said JT.
”And you're an expert on rabies how again?”
”Mitch.e.l.l! Lie down and SHUT UP!” said Dixie.
Lena held up her hand. ”I think it would help if everyone took a deep breath. Mitch.e.l.l, you don't need st.i.tches. The dog doesn't have rabies. Dixie and JT have everything they need to bandage you up. Now it's time to cooperate.”
”Thank you, Lena,” said Dixie.
”Please, Mitch.e.l.l. Lie back,” said JT wearily. ”I want my beer.”
Mitch.e.l.l lay back with a grunt. JT cradled the man's head in his lap. His beard was rough, his skin craggy. Mitch.e.l.l closed his eyes, and JT was thankful for that. Lena told Mitch.e.l.l to think of a nice place.
”I'm in a nice place,” he grumbled.
”A nicer place,” said Lena.
”On three, Mitch.e.l.l,” said Dixie.
Mitch.e.l.l grimaced as Dixie poured peroxide directly onto the wound. JT blotted it, then Dixie swabbed it with antibiotic cream and taped three Band-Aids over it.
”Okay, kiddo,” she said.
Mitch.e.l.l opened his eyes.
”All in the antic.i.p.ation,” Dixie said. ”Isn't that right, Sam? Sit up, Mitch.e.l.l. Take a look.” She found a small mirror in the first aid kit. Mitch.e.l.l peered at Dixie's bandaging job. He did not look too terribly unhappy, but he was not going to begrudge anyone anything at this point.
”If this gets infected, you are going to regret this decision like no other,” he told JT.
JT stood up and cuffed sand off the back of his shorts. ”Which decision might that be?”
”The decision to keep the dog,” said Mitch.e.l.l. ”What are you guys governed by, a state licensing board? I imagine it doesn't screw around with decisions like this. One hundred and twenty-five trips, did you say? Maybe that's a nice round number to call it quits.”
Stake him to an anthill, said the Mother b.i.t.c.h. Want me to do it? No qualms here Want me to do it? No qualms here.
”Oh goodness,” said JT. ”I wouldn't go that far.”
”Don't test me,” said Mitch.e.l.l.
Afterward, Evelyn made her way down to the boats and hovered about until the guides looked up.
”I'm not second-guessing you,” she said, ”but peroxide is no longer the disinfectant of choice. You should use Betadine.”
”Oh. Okay,” said JT. ”Thank you, Evelyn.”
Evelyn turned and toiled back up the slope.
”She's a good lady,” said Abo. ”Even if she is a fuddy-duddy.”
”She is,” said JT.
Dixie leaned back and closed her eyes. ”JT?”
”What's that?”
”Have you ever wished for any of your trips to be over?”
”Are you counting the days, Dixie?”
”Nope,” said Dixie. ”But I'm glad I'm not the Trip Leader right now.”
34.