face with a nod. “Alright, I’m going, I’m going.”
Kennedy traded positions with Jacob, a shorter guy slightly packing on weight with age. With curly brown hair and a goatee, his windbreaker and mud-soaked jeans made him look more like a lost hiker than one of the only people in town with medical knowledge. He always talked a little off, an unidentifiable accent from somewhere on the east coast masked with a soft-spoken clarity. He had a puppydog kind of presence, like he’d lay down to take a bullet for a group of misunderstood kittens, but a resilience that made it seem like he already had.
“I’ll be gentle,” Jacob promised, already pulling apart the bandages. “It’s not too bad. It will hurt the least if I do it really fast, like a BandAid. I don’t want to make you suffer through it gradually. Think you can handle it? I thought so. You’re being really brave.”
Sarah gasped through her teeth, visibly holding back tears. Stringy beads lapsed between the burn and the bandage. It looked like saliva. Noah hoped it was the aloe.
“I know it hurts. We can make that go away. This stuff smells funny, but it only stings for a second. It’ll clean it out and keep it that way, and numb the pain a bit. It should help the healing process along, too. You, Miss Sarah, are a trooper.” As he spoke, he distracted her as he cleaned the gauze from where it started to fuse in, asking about school starting in the fall and summer plans, how the day was and what happened. “There you go – all set. I’m going to talk to your dad about getting some of this for the next few weeks. There’s a salve you use every three hours, and a wet bandage that you should change every morning, just like I did it. When it drives you crazy, you can take two Tylenol.”
Jacob stood up, disappearing through the kitchen doors where Lee’s head bobbed. It was barely a moment before he returned, flattening a crumpled script. He approached Noah with a concerned frown. “It appears your father isn’t interested in investing in medication.”
Noah blinked. “You’re serious? He refused the prescription because he doesn’t want to pay for it?”
I can’t even imagine how much they spend on alcohol and chewing tobacco in a week.
Jacob sighed, scratching his head. “So it seems. I don’t know if you can convince him, but it’s really in her best interest.”
Noah set his jaw, glaring at the kitchen doors. “I have no power over that man, at all, whatsoever.”
Jacob furrowed his brow. "I'm taking the wife to Anchorage this weekend. In the big stores, there's a generic brand that's over the counter."
Noah chewed his cheek, mulling over the silent offer.
“How much?” he asked finally.
Jacob hesitated, face twisting in sympathy. “Thirty-five on the low end.”
Noah stifled a groan, all business. “I can cover twenty now. I get paid again on the twentyfifth.”
Jacob reached into his bag, shoving a handful of samples into Noah’s arms.
“That’s on me. For the big can, I can cover the rest.” Jacob insisted, “You’re a good kid, Noah. Your sister's lucky to have you.”
Noah dumped them on a table, sliding a duct-tape wallet from his back pocket. Pulling out the last of his paycheck, he forked over the bills.
“It's family,” he shrugged. “You know how it is.”
“Something tells me 'family' is limited to you and Baby Bear.”
“Most days,” Noah laughed. “Does that make me Goldilocks?”
“You might need to borrow Lee’s mullet.”
Noah tried to maintain a straight face, but the image of the outrageous mane acting as a backwoods understudy for the golden tresses of the childhood tale was too much. An eruption of laughter exploded from his chest, resounding in his throat.
Ridiculous suits him. What else do you call a father who can’t even take care of his kids without four-letter-words?
Jacob patted Noah’s back and wiped tears from his own eyes, still shaking with chuckles as he left the diner.
“I’ll pay you back,” Sarah swore.
He shook his head, unable to rouse the unspoken ‘hell no’. She nodded, refusing his refusal.
“Put it away for school,” he said, attempting an encouraging smile.
Reminded of her dream means of ditching Ashland, Sarah burst into tears. Drawing her knees to her chest, she slid back in the booth, bandaged arms uselessly at her side. He climbed in the low seat back-to-back with hers, pushing to the very end.
“Hey – it’ll be okay. I swear,” he promised. Sarah whimpered, shaking her