“Olly, tell us what hurts.”
“My arm.My head.”He makes eye contact with her, but he squints to see her clearly.
“There’s a lot of blood, and blood is scary, but you’re okay,” she assures him calmly.
He nods as she examines the cut on his forehead.
“Two inches, superficial laceration, some dizziness,” she reports, her voice even-toned.She glances at the tree branch overhead.“Your head hit an exposed root, and your arm…”
Olly cries and whimpers as she tries to move it gently.
“… Appears to be fractured.I know it hurts,” she says, her expression softening as she bops his nose.
“I’m okay,” Olly says weakly, though it’s clear he isn’t.
Her eyes land on mine.“It’ll be okay.I promise.His airways are clear, breathing sounds good, and his circulation seems unencumbered.His eyes look fine, and he is coherent enough to follow my instructions.His head wound is probably superficial, though he may be concussed, and the arm is a concern.He’ll need an X-ray.”
I nod, remembering her EMT-B certification and feeling grateful that she’s here regardless.Her calm authority comforts Olly and me at once—a stark relief against the pure terror of the moment.My head spins with what-ifs, but somehow, Venus battles them back.
She unravels the scarf from her hair and pulls another from her pocket.“Henry, use this to apply gentle pressure to his head.”
I angle Olly against one arm while I tend to his gash with the other.“It’s okay, son.We’ve got you.”
Venus secures his bent arm in a makeshift sling, and he tucks it close to his chest.“Try not to move it.”
“I can’t move it,” he cries, his tears wetting my shirt along with his blood.I’m devastated for him, pained for him, and pissed at myself for not waking when he left the tent.“I just wanted to climb the tree.I thought I could be like Venus.”
He buries his head against me like he’s embarrassed.Venus glances at me, her brow pinched, and I can almost see the guilt settling on her shoulders.
“It’s not your fault,” I say sternly to them both.“It was an accident.”
She doesn’t look convinced.She grabs Buster’s leash.“Okay, Olly.Ready for a short drive?”
He shrugs and winces with the movement.
“Henry, if you’ll carry him to the Jeep, I’ll meet you there,” she says, tugging Buster toward the house.“Oh, and keep him talking.”
I rise, gently scooping him into my arms as I go.Cradling him to my chest with as little movement as possible, I say, “I know it hurts, but you’ll be alright....How about telling me your favorite things about camping?”
Following the solar lights that mark the trail, I make my way through camp.It’s barely sunrise, gray with sun peeking through.
“S’mores,” he says, looking slightly loopy against my chest.“Sleeping in the tent with Buster…”
“Yeah, that was nice.Buster’s a good dog,” I say, snaking my way through the garden.“What else?”
He smiles against my chest.“Your stories… and Venus.”
I reach the Jeep at the same time as Venus.Buster barks from inside the house.My med bag hangs across her chest—I hadn’t even thought about my inhalers—and she has my keys in her hand.She opens the back door, and I ease Olly into his booster seat.
“Ride with him,” she instructs.“It’s best if he doesn’t fall asleep.”
Venus closes the door once I’m inside and settles in the driver’s seat.She peeks at us in the rearview mirror as she drives away from the fairy house, kicking up dry dirt along the path.
“Do you remember that time when you had the flu, and you had to get an IV?”I ask Olly.
“It was awful,” he breathes out.
“But you felt better, right?”
