#5
Ev rattled the knob again, putting some muscle into opening the stuck door. He had never known Evie to lock her door, so he never suspicioned it was now. Clora went flying into the kitchen, shining the flashlight directly into Ev's face through the window. Ev threw up his hand to shield his eyes, and stepped back away from the attack.
Discovering she knew the person, Clora opened the door and motioned Ev in with a shush finger to her lips.
"Is everything OK? I saw the lights and thought you were outside. After this morning, I thought I should give a check. What is all over the porch, sure looks like blood and I hope Inky wasn't hurt." Ev had more questions that a 4 year old at the zoo. Clora attempted to keep his voice down, and finally broke in to scold.
"Ev! hush for a minute!" Clora got a late word in edgewise. "We have a situation here, and I want you're word that you will keep silent about what you see and hear."
Ev's eyebrows shot up into his bushy hairline and his nose twitched above his unruly mustache and full beard, he cleared his throat and shifted his feet. Curiosity was killing him, he could never stand a mystery without knowing the outcome.
"Ya, sure 'nuff," he promised, waiting impatiently for Clora to ease his curiosity.
"Come help us then," she invited. "We have a person who has been shot, and we need to be silent about him and his problems."
Ev practically pushed Clora in his eagerness, following her into the bedroom. His crestfallen face when he discovered it was the grandfather from the next door was almost comical.
"Ev," Evie acknowledged her friend and neighbor. "I'm glad you came. We need help taking this off Davis," she pointed to the Kevlar body protection. "We need to get to his wound."
When he heard that someone unknown was in the room, the older gentleman got very agitated and was practically shouting. "No!, No!, get him away! Where is my gun? You will not take my armor off."
"Davis, we need help, Ev is an old friend and he's here to assist us. Calm down," Evie ordered sharply.
"What happened here?" Ev was bursting with questions, and the ladies were exceptionally slow at imparting what they knew.
"Davis has been shot, and everyone but we three, needs to think he is dead. His shooter was a member of his family, so we have to be extraordinarily cautious, as they are so close." Evie explained softly.
Davis fairly vibrated with anger as he tried to get up out of bed. "I told you that NO ONE was to know that I am here. I have to leave, let me get up NOW!"
"Listen you old goat. Lay down and shut up. This happens to be my grandson's bed you are bleeding all over." Evie kept her voice normal, but the steel in her tone left no doubt as to whom was in charge.
Ev said "phew," as Evie shook her finger at Davis, indicating he was glad he wasn't on the receiving end of that particular scolding.
Davis fixed him with a baleful eye, letting Ev know he wasn't the least bit amused by the backwoods humor. "Are you sure he is trustworthy?" Davis coughed as a fresh wave of pain rolled over him. Panting with exertion, he fought to force his response to the crippling torment, he was loosing control of the situation.
Ev said, "what do you need done?" to Evie, as she mopped a rag around the edges of the oozing wound.
"We won't take your protection off," she pacified Davis, "but we need to get the edge away from the wound so we can clean and have a look at it."
"Ev, pull his pants waistband down so we can get the material out of the way. Clora you grab the bottom of the vest and twist it to the side." Evie swatted Davis's hand away as he tried to grasp the open, sliced flesh that was paining him so. "Grab his hand Ev, you're the only one that can hold him."
Holding the flashlight, Evie directed the beam to illuminate the weeping, serum bubbling hole. Her heart sank. This was a major wound, not a back woods fix by a ancient old woman. Evie briefly wondered what they did during the early wars, before doctors.
That louse Inghram had deserted them as a relative, and the only physician. In her life experience, Evie had never had to deal with a problem of this stature, and she was stumped as to what to do. With the horses, one had to keep the wound open and let it heal from the inside out, keep it clean and covered and dry but not gooey moist. So, that's what she planned to do for Davis.
Right or wrong, if he died, he died. She didn't mean to be callous and she really was going to try, but unless he would allow a doctor, he probably would. The wound could be flushed with boiled and cooled water, so that's what she would do.
Evie went to put the teakettle on the stove, filling the firebox with new wood and went back to the bedroom to speak with Davis.
Holding his hand she patted the scared and twisted fingers to have Davis focus his attention completely on her. "I won't lie to you, it's bad," she consoled him gently. "Bigger than I have the expertise to deal with. If you want to live, we need to get you to a doctor."
"Now stop," she ordered Davis who wanted to jerk his hand away. "It's your decision to make. We won't override your wishes, but don't take so long that it's impossible to help you when you want to be saved."
David was so weak, he had to lay back. He had enough strength to close his eyes and that was all.
Evie shook her head in frustration, this wasn't going to end well, she was sure of it.
