you
ready?”
“Okay, yes. What should I do?”
“You’ve the best eyes of the bunch and the steadiest hand
next to the Flowers. You’re going to have to do this because we can’t ask her
to work on her own father.”
“Do this?” I said stupidly.
“You’re going to have to be my hands. Just do as I say and
everything will be fine. You have a soft touch.”
“You want me to remove his appendix?” The horror I felt was
reflected in my voice.
“No.” I felt premature relief until he added, “But you are
going to put in a drain to buy some time until I can get there.”
I swallowed. A hundred protests arose in my head, but I
didn’t utter them. I had to do this. Somehow.
“Okay,” I managed to whisper. “Tell me what to do.”
* * *
“Good girl. With your eyes, draw a line from the belly
button to the hip bone. Halfway down it is where the appendix is. It’s where
things hurt most if you need confirmation,” the Bones added. He tied off the
first suture and glanced at his patient’s face. Billy’s color and breathing
were better now that they’d got some blood and saline in him.
Linda, who had steadier hands, would usually have been
assisting with closing but was working the radio. Doc was having to do the final sew-up himself.
“Okay, got it.” Butterscotch’s voice was steady. The Bones
was proud of her. She had obviously been shaken but was ready to do whatever
was needed. Thank God she was level headed. Marge was competent but her eyes
were going and her hands were none too steady anymore. Kind of like his.
Doc pushed the thought away.
“Have Madge give you her smallest knife and then she needs
to be ready with salt pork and rolls of gauze.” The Doc added, “The salt will
stop the bleeding.”
Or so he hoped.
“You are going to want to cut across the mental line you
drew—not along it. Across it. Not too long a cut. No
more than three inches. And not real deep on the first pass. You need to open
him enough to get past the muscle and see inside and you will have to go
through muscle wall. Go with the grain, don’t cut through it. You’ve helped
butcher deer before?”
“Yes.”
“You’ll need to use about that much pressure. The insides
aren’t that much different when you get past the skin.”
He hoped that she could do it, pretend that Big John was a deer. The Bones still remembered his first body. It
had been a cadaver, but cutting it open had been horrible, terrifying. He could
only imagine what she was feeling.
“You are looking for a thing that looks like a worm. When
you find it, cut a small slit in it and insert the straw. Make damn sure it
isn’t the intestine.”
* * *
“I did it,” I said hoarsely, sweat trickling down my back. “I
put the straw in.”
“Is there pus?”
“Yes. Some. And a little blood.”
“You need to suck out as much as you can and then pack the
incision with salt pork. I’m going to sign off now. We are leaving immediately
and I’ll be there in just a few hours.”
“Okay,” I whispered, feeling dizzy and looking for the last
bit of will that would allow me to put my lips to the blue straw.
“Let me, I know how. I’ve done it with the dogs,” Madge
said, pushing me gently aside. The Flowers had fainted a few minutes back and
Sasha had laid her on the counter with her feet propped up on the old-fashioned
cash register. “There’s someone here for you that might need you more.”
“What?” I looked up from the red wound I had made in my
mentor and it took a moment to see Chuck standing a few feet back from Big
John’s body. He was covered in dirt from his hair to his boots, but he had
never looked more perfect.
“Chuck!” I cried, pushing to my feet though my legs had gone
to sleep and didn’t want to hold me.
“Butterscotch,” he whispered, taking me in his arms. I did
my best to keep the blood on my hands from touching him, but only half succeeded.
Chapter 8
ready?”
“Okay, yes. What should I do?”
“You’ve the best eyes of the bunch and the steadiest hand
next to the Flowers. You’re going to have to do this because we can’t ask her
to work on her own father.”
“Do this?” I said stupidly.
“You’re going to have to be my hands. Just do as I say and
everything will be fine. You have a soft touch.”
“You want me to remove his appendix?” The horror I felt was
reflected in my voice.
“No.” I felt premature relief until he added, “But you are
going to put in a drain to buy some time until I can get there.”
I swallowed. A hundred protests arose in my head, but I
didn’t utter them. I had to do this. Somehow.
“Okay,” I managed to whisper. “Tell me what to do.”
* * *
“Good girl. With your eyes, draw a line from the belly
button to the hip bone. Halfway down it is where the appendix is. It’s where
things hurt most if you need confirmation,” the Bones added. He tied off the
first suture and glanced at his patient’s face. Billy’s color and breathing
were better now that they’d got some blood and saline in him.
Linda, who had steadier hands, would usually have been
assisting with closing but was working the radio. Doc was having to do the final sew-up himself.
“Okay, got it.” Butterscotch’s voice was steady. The Bones
was proud of her. She had obviously been shaken but was ready to do whatever
was needed. Thank God she was level headed. Marge was competent but her eyes
were going and her hands were none too steady anymore. Kind of like his.
Doc pushed the thought away.
“Have Madge give you her smallest knife and then she needs
to be ready with salt pork and rolls of gauze.” The Doc added, “The salt will
stop the bleeding.”
Or so he hoped.
“You are going to want to cut across the mental line you
drew—not along it. Across it. Not too long a cut. No
more than three inches. And not real deep on the first pass. You need to open
him enough to get past the muscle and see inside and you will have to go
through muscle wall. Go with the grain, don’t cut through it. You’ve helped
butcher deer before?”
“Yes.”
“You’ll need to use about that much pressure. The insides
aren’t that much different when you get past the skin.”
He hoped that she could do it, pretend that Big John was a deer. The Bones still remembered his first body. It
had been a cadaver, but cutting it open had been horrible, terrifying. He could
only imagine what she was feeling.
“You are looking for a thing that looks like a worm. When
you find it, cut a small slit in it and insert the straw. Make damn sure it
isn’t the intestine.”
* * *
“I did it,” I said hoarsely, sweat trickling down my back. “I
put the straw in.”
“Is there pus?”
“Yes. Some. And a little blood.”
“You need to suck out as much as you can and then pack the
incision with salt pork. I’m going to sign off now. We are leaving immediately
and I’ll be there in just a few hours.”
“Okay,” I whispered, feeling dizzy and looking for the last
bit of will that would allow me to put my lips to the blue straw.
“Let me, I know how. I’ve done it with the dogs,” Madge
said, pushing me gently aside. The Flowers had fainted a few minutes back and
Sasha had laid her on the counter with her feet propped up on the old-fashioned
cash register. “There’s someone here for you that might need you more.”
“What?” I looked up from the red wound I had made in my
mentor and it took a moment to see Chuck standing a few feet back from Big
John’s body. He was covered in dirt from his hair to his boots, but he had
never looked more perfect.
“Chuck!” I cried, pushing to my feet though my legs had gone
to sleep and didn’t want to hold me.
“Butterscotch,” he whispered, taking me in his arms. I did
my best to keep the blood on my hands from touching him, but only half succeeded.
Chapter 8
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