Page 83 of Charlie and Her Sweet Escape
“I don’t think so,” he said. “Just sore. I landed on it wrong.”
“Can I look at it?” The only medical experience I had was with animals, but I still wanted to get a sense for how bad it was. I wouldn’t put it past Bennett to downplay an injury to not worry me. Well, too bad for him—I was already worried.
“Yeah.”
The skin around his ankle was puffy, but it wasn’t bruised yet, and it seemed like a good sign that it had full rotation.
Bennett had a restless night, and I wondered if the pain kept him awake. He couldn’t seem to get comfortable. I tried scooting away from him to give him space. I tried turning my back to him so I didn’t inadvertently breathe on him and disturb him.
What would Bennett do if I was the one hurting?
He’d comfort me.
I turned toward him in the sleeping bag and ran my hands gently through his hair. He let out a long sigh, and his shoulders relaxed. “That feels really nice,” he murmured.
I didn’t say anything, but I continued to draw my fingers through his long strands until his breathing deepened, and he was finally asleep.
I understood, now, how he’d felt when I’d been injured during our first challenge. Bennett was hurt, and it didn’t matter that we hadn’t won yet. Or that we’d made it this far. Nothing mattered but getting through the night so we could go home tomorrow. Nothing would stand in the way of making sure Bennett got help.
33
BENNETT
“We are not leaving.” I folded my arms firmly across my chest. It was the best I could do to look stubborn and immovable, even though I was sitting on our sleeping bag, my foot elevated and wrapped in a compression bandage from the first aid kit. That kit was getting a lot of use from us this season.
Charlie knelt a few feet away—our shelter was too broken for us to stand—holding the SAT phone in her hand. Her hair was wilder than our campsite post-bear. Her comb had been broken in the bear’s search for food, and the static electricity from the sleeping bag and wool were giving it extra heights. “Yes, we are.”
“It’s not too bad.” I rotated my ankle to show her I could. “If I stay off it a couple of days, and baby it a few more, it’ll be fine.” It wasn’t broken, and I wasn’t going to let my stupid fall ruin this experience for her.
“It needs to get looked at by a doctor.” Her expression was determined.
“I don’t need a doctor. I have you.”
“Ben—no. You need an actual doctor. Medical equipment. X-rays.”
“Weren’t you just wishing you had a cute little animal to care for?” I asked teasingly.
The honest truth was, I didn’t know how to deal with Charlie being so worried about me. I was usually the one taking care of everyone else. But I knew how to tease Charlie, so that was easy to default to.
“You’re not cute or little,” she muttered, but her finger had moved away from the call button on the SAT phone, so I felt encouraged.
“You’d turn down a big, hairy animal if they really needed you?”
“Bennnnn,” she groaned. She scooted closer to me, and her eyes filled with tears. “I’m really worried about you.”
“I know. I’m sorry I’m teasing you.” I reached for her free hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “What if we give it a couple of days? If it gets any worse, we can go home.” I swallowed hard. I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t want to give up this lightning-in-a-bottle situation with me and Charlie. Once we left here, she’d go back to her life. The one I only had a small part in.
“But our shelter.”
“This will work for now,” I said, hoping it was true. I’d have to make it true. Charlie had called memine, a word that had reverberated through my soul. “We can make it to the end.”
Ihadn’t anticipated how hard it would be tonotwork the next three days while I elevated my foot. Every time I thought about standing to help Charlie, she’d give me the stink eye and point at me like she could read my mind.
And I’d rest back on my elbows and content myself with watching her.
I could watch Charlie for the rest of my life. She had tied her hair back with a bandana that stretched over her forehead. Bouncy pigtails popped out of the back, bobbing every time she moved her head. Her pants had gotten too lose, so she’d tied a paracord belt around them, and she still had to hike them up her waist every few feet.
She’d gotten the area around our shelter cleaned up by herself; had retied a clothesline; managed to catch two fish, skin, and clean two fish; and was now working on rebuilding our fallen shelter wall.
