Tane lifted my hand from the bowl and set it gently on the towels, taking one up and blotting the skin dry. I felt the ministrations but still refused to look.
“Ouch.” I sounded like a baby but I couldn’t help it. There was so much bright red blood still gleaming on the table as if some terrible crime had occurred.
Tane held up the first tube. “This stuff might sting.”
I held my breath as he opened and applied a cold gel. It did sting, but I kept my mouth shut.
“This stuff is numbing ointment. Should help it not hurt so much.”
I wanted to protest that it didn’t hurt that much. But it did. I let him put that on, as well. Immediately, the pain subsided.
“Oh. That really works,” I said.
“Good.”
I was able to look now. My hand was all slimy-looking, but I still had all my fingers. And there weren’t any scary flaps of skin hanging down.
Elias unraveled the spool of bandage and cut it neatly with scissors from the kit. He handed each strip to Tane, who gently began to wrap my hand. They wrapped it tight and thick over the palm and all the way up to my wrist, using tape to keep it all together.
When it was done, I looked at my hand. They really had done a great job. The bandage had some sort of placebo effect, because I wasn’t as queasy or dizzy anymore. The pain had gone. For now.
“Try not to move it too much.”
I placed my hand in my lap, looking down at it.
“I’ll make up two new plates and serve the rest of your lunch in the breakfast nook, sir.” Elias began to clean up the mess.
I wasn’t hungry anymore, but I got up and followed Tane to the small area off the kitchen. I swayed once and Tane turned as if sensing it and place his hand on my shoulder.
“Okay?”
“Yeah.” His hand was warm, like a sturdy and steady force. I didn’t want to need that, but right now, I did. I also had my glass of Scotch with me. It was disappearing fast.
Elias brought us out all new plates, the food hot and cooked perfectly. New steaks and all the trimmings. We had barely gotten started eating in the dining room.
But there was another problem. The hand I’d hurt was my dominant one. I couldn’t use it to cut up my steak. I just stared at my plate.
“Are you no longer hungry?” Tane asked.
“I’m not left-handed.”
“Sorry. You need your steak cut, don’t you?” He leaned over the table and took my plate. When he finished, he placed the plate back in front of me.
We didn’t talk anymore about my safety or future plans. We didn’t talk at all.
I picked up my fork and awkwardly speared the bites. It was a slow process to eat even half my food. By that time, I really wasn’t hungry. I felt sleepy. And strange. I started to laugh. Elias had refilled my whiskey glass and it was all gone again.
“I guess I’m not as hungry as I thought.”
“Does your hand hurt?”
“Not really, but I’m afraid to move it. And I feel funny.”
I tried to get up but fell back. Tane rose and came over to me.
“Come on. I’ll help you.”
I couldn’t get my feet properly organized underneath me to walk right. I leaned against Tane, laughing again even though I knew I was being ridiculous.
