In the Heart of the Canyon - By Elisabeth Hyde Page 0,72

fur and gaudy fabric, here and there a well-tanned limb jutting out, pinballing against rocks and prickly shrubs, only to be stopped, finally, by the rubble at the water’s edge.

JT was sitting on his boat enjoying his second beer of the evening when this happened, and he was mellowed out enough that the descent seemed to occur in slow motion, during which time three things occurred to him:

One, the dog was surely going for Mitchell’s jugular;

Two, far be it that Mitchell might be lucky enough to score a soft landing against the rafts;

And three (this realization occurring just as Mitchell collided headfirst with the rocks), they’d run out of gauze two days ago.

Mass confusion ensued as Lena raced down the hill and JT leapt out of the boat and Mitchell struggled to right himself from the crotch of two boulders.

“Grab my hand!” Lena cried, extending one of her sparrow arms. Mitchell bicycled his legs in the air, and Peter finally had to reach down and lend his arm so that Mitchell could haul himself up.

At which point JT couldn’t help but wince, for Mitchells forehead was covered with blood. He tried to stop Mitchell from touching it, but it was too late. Mitchell stared at his fingers.

“The dog bit me,” he marveled.

By now almost everyone was crowding around to see how badly Mitchell was injured. Even Ruth came hobbling down.

“He was teasing the dog,” Sam reported.

“I wouldn’t call it teasing,” said Lena.

“Well, he was holding his hands up in the air, and the dog jumped,” said Mark.

With all this chatter, JT felt like his head was going to burst, this at a time when he needed to stay calm. Was it him, or were they having more medical crises than usual on this trip? He was grateful when Dixie squatted beside him with the first aid box.

“Is he up-to-date on his tetanus?” Dixie asked Lena.

“I can hear every word you’re saying and yes I’m up-to-date on my tetanus,” said Mitchell. “Now could someone please bring me a mirror?”

“You don’t need a mirror, Mitchell,” said Dixie. “Let me look.”

With great stoicism, Mitchell raised his head. JT and Dixie and Lena all peered closely. There were many small abrasions on his forehead, but most of the blood was coming from a small split near his hairline. It did not look like a dog bite.

“I think you cut it on a rock,” JT said, sitting back.

“Besides, Blender would never bite anyone,” said Sam.

“He would me,” said Mitchell. “I told you, dogs have been biting me my whole life.”

“Lie back, Mitchell,” said Dixie as she opened up the first aid box. “Hey. Where’s all the gauze?”

“We’re out,” JT said. “Use paper towels.” And Abo, as though having already read JT’s mind, handed him a roll from behind.

“How can you be out of gauze?” Mitchell demanded.

“Lloyd used it.”

“And what, he thought we were right around the corner from Wal-Mart?” Mitchell 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 Bitch had been sitting off to the side, flossing. Shoot this guy, she said. 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.

“Mitchell,” 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 stitches?” he asked her.

“No,” said Lena. “You don’t need stitches. There’s a lot of blood, but trust me, it’s a small cut. Head cuts are like that.”

“Lie down, Mitchell,” said Dixie.

“I’ll bet if I walked into the ER right now, they’d give me stitches,” Mitchell 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, Mitchell. Lie down,” said JT.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if this dog has rabies,” said Mitchell.

“The dog does not have rabies,” said JT.

“And you’re an expert on rabies how again?”

“Mitchell! Lie down and SHUT UP!” said Dixie.

Lena held up her hand. “I think it would help if everyone took a deep breath. Mitchell, you don’t need stitches. The dog doesn’t have rabies. Dixie and JT have everything they need to bandage you up. Now