Chapter 2
CHAPTER
TWO
Phoebe
When my phone chimes, I automatically grab it even though I don’t know why.
Yes, you do, my brain whispers. You’re hoping that Eli texted you.
If it wouldn’t have Ella questioning my sanity, I’d yell at myself right now.
He’s been sending pictures of Cami and an occasional text, but it’s not often enough to be considered a pattern.
I feel like he probably read the letter I left, the one I wasn’t sure I’d ever give him and that has my thoughts spiraling.
Thank goodness the sheer number of patients we see every day keeps me from diving into a deep hole.
However, it’s times like right now, when I’m curled up in the bunk I’m using while I wait for sleep to claim me that I peek into the abyss.
The bottom line, at least as far as I’m concerned, is I don’t want to destroy the relationship we’ve built that will allow me to stay in Cami’s life.
But if he feels the same way, which I can’t let myself consider, we could have a beautiful life.
Eli: Missing you.
“Well, that’s different,” I muse as I think about how to respond. I mean, I miss him as well, but should I say that? What’s the worst thing that could happen?
Me: Miss you too. Hope you and Cami are both well.
I fall asleep waiting for his response and despite my exhaustion, I find myself waking up to start the day.
Hearing Ella moving around in the RV, I roll out and quickly dress in a uniform I’ve come to hate wearing.
Not the company, of course, but the horrible colors that we’re having to use so that we can be seen.
“You ready for today?” Ella asks as I finally come out of the room I’m sleeping in.
“Not really sure, to be honest,” I admit. “My bones still feel like they’re moving after going all over yesterday in the ATVs. Maybe I’m getting too old to do this shit.”
She giggles while nudging my shoulder. “It’s the terrain, not our age, my friend. Let’s go grab something to eat so we can head out.”
“Will there be wine at the end of the day?” I ask as I follow her out the door, our travel tumblers in hand.
“I’ll see if Thelma can make it happen for us. We deserve some after the other day, don’t you think?” she questions.
“Do you know how the mom and babies are doing?” I query as we get to the tent that’s set up where we both make plates of food and find a place to sit.
“I called to check on them last night,” Thelma says as she sits down beside us. “All three are doing well. Y’all did a great job, ladies.”
“And we ended up on the news too!” Ella squeals.
I roll my eyes because the last thing I expected was to be interviewed by a local reporter about what we were doing.
Still, I hope that it’ll get this area some much-needed help because these people have been holding on by a thread ever since the hurricanes came through.
“Looking like hot messes,” I tease. “We might have made sure we were hygienic when it came to delivering the babies, but you had a smudge of dirt on your cheek, and the bottom of my pants had something best left unmentioned.”
Thelma bursts out laughing at the look on Ella’s face. “Y’all will be heading out on the ATVs again. There’s an old man about a mile further out than where y’all were at who fell and needs to be transported down to us so we can take him to the hospital.”
“Then let’s get going.”
“Well, ain’t you two pretty ladies a sight for sore eyes,” Elmer says after we introduce ourselves to him.
He’s about sixty-five years old or so and has ‘lived on this mountain’ his entire life. A recent widower, he was trying to clean up some of the brush in his yard and he fell, one of the limbs deeply gouging his leg.
“You’re looking pretty good yourself, Elmer,” Ella replies as we sit near him.
While she starts taking his vitals, I prepare to look behind the gauze bandage that’s wrapped around his calf.
I can tell from the smell that it’s likely infected and judging by how glassy his eyes are, I don’t think I’m too off base.
Slipping my gloves on, as well as a mask, I begin unwinding the gauze.
“I cleaned it up as best as I could,” he admits as I carefully cut away the blood-soaked bandaging once I’ve gotten it unwound as far as it’ll go. “But I ran out of the stuff my wife used to make up for cuts and what-not.”
“What stuff?” I ask as a means to keep him talking as I start assessing the injury itself.
Infection is definitely present based on the swollen, hot to the touch, skin that looks like an overstuffed sausage casing.
The drainage is horrific and while I wait for him to give me more information, I begin cleaning it, using a wound wash that we’ve found works wonders.
I suspect it’s abscessed, but that’ll be up to a doctor to make that diagnosis; I’m leaning on my years of field experience and will make sure my notes indicate what I’m seeing.
“Let me grab a few pics and send them to Thelma so she can forward them on to the hospital,” Ella says from over my shoulder.
“Local honey. She used to make it into a paste of sorts then slather it on and it would pull out any infection,” Elmer replies. “But I ran out a few weeks ago and it’s not like I’ve had the ability to make up more, although I’ve got her recipe.”
“We often use Manuka honey on wounds. Couldn’t explain to you why it works though,” I tell him as I finish cleaning the gash.
“It’s possible with the bark pieces that are coming out that you might not have gotten everything out, Elmer, but we’ll get you down to our base so we can get you seen at the hospital. ”
“What about Buster?” he asks, pointing to the older hound dog that hasn’t moved since we arrived.
“We’ll take him with us. There’s a local rescue group who has set up a temporary shelter for those who had to have more care than just a house visit. He’ll be checked over, then fed and watered until you’re ready to come back home,” Ella says.
“Good, good. He’s the only living thing of Edna’s I have left,” he sadly replies.
“Got him for her when he was a puppy when I was still able to work. He followed her around and gave me peace of mind whenever I wasn’t able to get back home.
” I know he sees the confused expression on my face because he adds, “Did some trucking back in the day. Most of my trips were done on the same day, but there were a few that had me coming home the following day. Never had to worry about my girl with him here.”
“If you have a leash, I’ll go grab it so we can get you loaded up,” I say. “Anything else you need me to bring?”
“Got my weekly medicine container on the kitchen counter next to the coffee pot, Phoebe. Thank you,” he replies.
“Give me a few minutes and I’ll put a bag together for you, Elmer, because I think the tree that felled you has earned you an admission in the hospital,” I tease as I put a new bandage on his wound.
It’ll do until he gets to the hospital, but at his age, time is of the essence, especially since I don’t know the rest of his medical history or any underlying health issues he might already have.
Heading inside, I’m unsurprised to find his house as neat as a pin.
I also don’t think anything has been changed inside since his wife’s death.
Lacy doilies are underneath lamps, decorative coasters are on the side tables, and throw pillows are on the couch, with a beautiful quilt gracing the back.
I find his medicine, then look for the master bedroom, where I quickly pack a bag for Elmer, including the charger for his cell phone.
As I walk back out to the porch, I see a leash hanging, along with several hats, and a set of housekeys.
With everything in my hands, I turn and lock the door behind me, then put the keys inside the duffel bag.
“You ready?” Ella asks as she takes care of the small pile of trash, placing it in a garbage bag. “I’ll take this with us so we can put it in the biohazard bin.”
“Wait, let me go back in and get his trash then, since that would be horrible for him to come back home to a smelly house,” I murmur.
Pulling his keys out I head back into the house and gather that, then pull the few things from the fridge that probably won’t survive his hospital stay.
Finally confident that we’re leaving him in as good of condition as possible, I go back outside and see that Ella has helped him and Buster to where the ATVs are parked.
With Elmer already seated in one, I realize I’ll be riding with the dog and giggle.
I strap the trash in the back of my ATV, then help Buster onto the opposite seat. As Ella turns to head down, I follow, laughing out loud at how Buster’s tongue is lolling as he keeps his focus on his owner.
After Elmer was sent to the hospital via ambulance and Buster was handed over to Carole, one of the rescue volunteers, the rest of the day flew as if it had wings.
We’re exhausted as we make our way to the RV, a bottle of wine courtesy of Thelma clutched in Ella’s hands.
When Ella stops, I nearly crash into her, my eyes widening in shock.
“Hello, Phoebe,” Eli says.