CHAPTER 6 #3
The spray worked. She jerked back and quickly turned away shaking her head. I recall actually feeling bad for her, but I knew she’d be all right as she turned and trotted off with her cubs.
Still stunned at what just happened, I stood there wondering where Ash was the whole time. But there he was, right behind me holding his can of bear spray up. “Dude, I’ve never seen anyone move that fast. It was like something out of a Marvel movie.”
That’s when I realized my heart was pounding so hard it was beginning to hurt, like what I imagined the early stages of a heart attack must feel like.
That gave me a new sense of panic. Heart failure out there, so far from help, would have been fatal for sure.
And it wasn’t until then that I realized my arm was torn to shreds leaving the entire left side of my body covered in blood.
It’s a wonder that I didn’t go into shock.
Maybe I did a little. I hadn’t felt the excruciating pain until then, but when it hit me, I fell to my knees.
Now that the whole incident is a distant memory, I almost crack a grin thinking about how my sister reacted when she found out.
Of course Ash and I were wearing our GoPro cameras the whole time.
I had one on my head and another on my chest. Ash did too, so the whole thing, blood and all, was captured.
In typical Elsie fashion, she wasn’t worried or concerned or even glad that we were okay. No, she was ecstatic. Later, she informed us that her new vid set a record for views. I remember standing there with Ash’s terrible stitching job muttering, “We aim to please.”
She didn’t catch the sarcasm and responded with, “Good job!” like we were a couple of puppies who finally used the doggy door instead of peeing on her carpet. It’s how she treats us when we do something she likes.
“It’s a long story, but a bear got a lucky swipe at my arm.”
She doesn’t look up but stays focused on what she’s doing. “Seriously? How are you still alive?”
Good question. “I guess I was even luckier. I had bear spray with me; otherwise, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Not many people survive something like that. You were definitely lucky, depending on how you look at it I guess.”
It might be the most reasonable conversation I’ve ever had about the scars. Usually, people ask the dumbest questions or make stupid observations that don’t make any sense, and I have to try to be polite with my responses. But this isn’t like that.
“Yeah, I would have been luckier if the bear hadn’t found me in the first place.”
I watch as she moves up the wound to repeat the process of pinching the cut closed and applying glue. She’s doing a remarkable job, better than Ash would have, and he’s had lots of practice. We’ve glued each other back together more times than I can count.
“You’re good at this. Are you a nurse?” She looks too young to be a doctor.
“No, I’m a seamstress.”
“Really?”
She’s focused so intently on my cut she still doesn’t bother to look up. The smell of her hair is intoxicating.
“Yeah, really. You sound surprised.”
“I don’t know. You look too young to be a seamstress.”
She laughs. “Let me guess. You’re thinking of an older woman with gray hair in a bun and cat-eye glasses. I get that a lot, but I’m only twenty-eight, and I never wear my hair in a bun.”
I can’t picture her with her hair up or wearing cat-eye glasses. She definitely doesn’t fit the seamstress stereotype I envisioned. “Yeah, that’s sort of what I was picturing,” I admit. “Sorry.”
“Done.” She leans down and blows a warm breath on her handiwork.
I wish she wouldn’t do that. I can feel little me getting excited again. If I have to, I’ll cut my other thumb and pour the rest of the superglue in it.
As if my cock heard that threat, it doesn’t grow any larger, deciding instead to remain manageably chubby. Good boy!
After wrapping my cut with gauze and medical tape, she finally sits up with, “That should heal just fine now.”
“Thanks.”
Suddenly, the air is thick with an awkward silence, like neither of us knows what to do next.
I’m about to say something incredibly stupid, like ask her if she wants to have dinner with me later, but to my relief she stands, looks around, then zeros in on the shelter.
The fascination in her eyes is typical. People always think these things are harder than they are.
Ignoring me, she pads over to it and peers inside. “I can’t believe you made this already. I wasn’t gone that long.”
I come to my feet making a mental list of what still needs to be done. Thank goodness I only need to make two chairs. It’s all I have the energy for. And what does she mean she wasn’t gone that long? It was long enough that I didn’t think she was coming back. “You were gone a while.”
She shoots up straight as her body stiffens with a gasp like I just embarrassed her, but how?
I look around to see if something else is happening, maybe something I missed, but I don’t see anything.
What the hell just happened? She’s just standing there, turning red in the cheeks, and I have no idea why.