Authors: Tarah R. Hamilton
“How
exactly did you hit him with your truck? Were you just not paying attention?”
“I
don’t know.” The intoxication was beginning to show. “I was at the bar and had
decided to leave early. I had gotten in and backed up and felt the truck hit
something. When I got out and looked, he was lying on the ground. His face looked
pretty bad, but I couldn’t see if anything else was wrong. I panicked. I don’t
even know what he was doing out there that late. He should have shifted.”
He
was right. I had never seen any Sayner be struck unless copper was involved.
The shift was a defense mechanism they had that could allow them to dissipate
to a sand-like state before taking a hit. Copper was the only weakness they had,
and it would stop the shift in its tracks. It had been the reason they had
avoided most of the gunshots in Sayner, Wisconsin. The copper-jacketed bullets
were the only ones that made an impact, sticking to their victims and taking
them down.
Chase
was getting caught up again with his guilt. What with that and the beer, I knew
he was going to break down at any minute. Right now, I couldn’t deal with it. Drunk
or not, I needed him to be there with me. He was asking a lot, and I wasn’t
going to do this alone.
“Well,
let’s see what you brought me. I’m not making any promises, but it really can’t
be that bad if you just backed up into him.” I was hoping I was right – not
just for Chase’s sake, but my own.
I
held my breath as he pulled away the blanket. It was worse than I could have
imagined. I would have gasped, but I couldn’t inhale what I was already holding
in. I could hear Chase make a gagging noise from the smell of blood and dirt
mixed together, holding back anything his stomach wanted to expel. I had never
seen anything so horrific in person.
He
had been right. The Sayner’s face looked like it had taken the full force of
the truck. The left side of his face had taken on the appearance of a purple
sack of potatoes. His eye was a crescent, and almost lost in the swelling. The
bruising ran up the left side of his cheek bone to a knot above his eyebrow. It
was hard to see where the damage started and ended, since a gash from the knot
had covered that side of his face with dark crimson blood. There were other
minor cuts on his face that had bled freely across the bridge of his nose and
both lips.
The
right side didn’t look nearly as bad. His mouth was partway open, pulling in
air, and I could see the blood that formed at the corners of his mouth and
between each pearl tooth. It still didn’t look bad enough to die from, but
looking at the rest of him, I could see why Chase should be concerned.
Patches
of semi-dried blood clung to his shirt, probably from dripping off his face.
There was a hole in the right side of his shirt, and I could see a gash running
from his side and across his abdomen. What else was left of his shirt was
tattered and soaked. Something metal in the wound reflected the light. Whatever
it was, it was stopping the flow enough that he wasn’t laying in a pool of his
own blood.
Moving
down to his lower half, there wasn’t any blood, which was a good sign, but
there was something else wrong. Though his right leg looked fine, his left foot
was twisted awkwardly outward. I didn’t have to pull back his filthy pant leg
to know it was broken.
“I
don’t think you did this with your truck; I think someone might have beaten you
to it,” I said, trying to make him feel better about this.
“Why
do you think that? I hit him pretty hard.”
“I
think some of his face may have been your fault, but I think he was ugly before
that.”
I
knew it was wrong to make jokes right now, but it was hard not to. It’s how I
coped with any situation. It made dealing with a crisis easier. Chase wasn’t
laughing. He was still in shock. I tried to explain it in as simple terms as
possible. “There is something in his side. I think it might be copper. I don’t
think anything on the back of your truck would break off, would it?”
He
was still confused, but so was I. Something happened to him before Chase backed
up into him. I don’t think it really mattered anymore who had done what. Chase
was here now with the Sayner, and he felt responsible.
“You
can still fix him up, right? We got him here. I still don’t want him to die.”
“I’m
sorry, but I can’t.” I could see the disappointment in his eyes, the same look
he gave when my mom and I told him a bunny didn’t make it. I needed something
to make him feel better. “I didn’t think he was going to be this bad. We need
help.”
Chase
was scared even more so than before. The thought of having to tell someone else
was the last thing he wanted, but he knew he didn’t have a choice. In the dark,
he might have thought it was going to be an easy fix bringing him here, but even
in the dim light of the room, it clearly was a different story. The Sayner wasn’t
going to make it without professional help.
“I’m
calling Sally,” I told him. “She’s the only person I know that has any
experience. Otherwise, he doesn’t have a chance.”
Chase
slowly nodded. Unless he was planning on dumping a corpse in a field somewhere,
we were going to have to trust her.
I
ran back upstairs to get my phone. I was still calm about the situation. I was
either in disbelief that this could be happening, or I really didn’t see any
hope in helping him. No one was going to miss him. He didn’t have anyone. If he
perished, it would just be another Sayner added to the long list of those who
had died before him. He was just one less headache to deal with.
Even
at this time of night, I knew she would answer. It only took two rings before
she picked up.
“It’s
awful late to be calling, sweetie.” She didn’t sound like she had been sleeping
yet. Her voice was just as cheery as it was in the morning.
“Sally,
I have a problem, and I’m not sure if you’re even willing to help.” I told her
everything and gave her as much as I could report on his injuries and what was
going on. I held it together much better than Chase had with me. There was
still my fear about keeping the Sayner here, but I knew that if Sally could
help, it would make things easier.
She
listened to every word and waited till I was finished before speaking. There
was a long pause before she spoke. She must have been mulling over everything I
had just thrown at her. It was a lot to take in. I held my breath, waiting to
hear what she was going to do. For the first time in my life, she was a bit
unnerved. Her light-hearted tone was gone, and was replaced by one with a more
serious sound to it.
“You
are going to need to get some items before I get there. Okay?”
I
nodded to acknowledge her, but realized she couldn’t see me.
“Yes,”
I finally responded back.
“You
need to get as many clean towels as you can. You’re also going to need some water.
Any medical supplies you have would be handy, too. I need you and Chase to try
and remove as much clothing as you can from him. It’s very important you don’t
move him, so if you can, it would be better to cut them off. If you can find
anything to make a splint, that would be great. It’s going to take me a little
bit to find my first aid kit, so if you want to start cleaning him up, you can.
Just don’t remove whatever is in his side. You think you can do this for me?”
My
head was swimming with everything she requested. “I think I can. So you’re not
going to tell anyone about this, right?”
“No.
I won’t say anything. I don’t know much about his race, but it’s worth a shot.”
The
phone went dead as she hung up. I knew I had to get started getting everything
together. It was going to be a long night, and it wouldn’t take her long to get
over here.
Most
of the things she asked for were easy to find. I had an abundance of clean
towels and bottled water. I had a pair of scissors in a drawer. The most I had
for first aid was a few Band-Aids, some gauze, and an elastic bandage. I
couldn’t even remember the last time they were used, or if they were even mine.
Finding
something for a splint was a little harder. I considered kitchen utensils, but
wasn’t able to find anything long enough. He was pretty tall, and I needed
something that would work for length. Rummaging through the kitchen, I could
see it sticking out from behind the fridge: a yardstick that hadn’t been used
in years. It would have to do.
I
clamored back down to the basement with my armload of supplies. Chase had moved
a folding chair from another part of the basement to the foot of the bed; another
was placed on the left, near the Sayner’s head. I couldn’t recall ever having
them, but they seemed convenient for the time. He had definitely calmed down
since the phone call. It seemed he was handling things as well as could be
expected.
“You
know, his name is Job,” he said slowly. “Like in the Bible.”
It
was almost as if saying his name made him more like a person and less like an
animal. I had no idea what to say. His name was the least of my concern.
The
Job I remember from the Bible was a good man who was put through trials because
of a bet. This was a slave that was less than human that probably deserved what
he got. I couldn’t see how the name fit him at all. I didn’t want to take my
focus off of what Sally had requested. I was doing this so Chase felt better,
and so I wouldn’t have a body in my basement stinking up the place in the
stuffy heat.
“That’s
good to know. Sally is on her way. She wanted us to try to get him cleaned up a
bit before she gets here.”
After
the two of us pulled the disgusting to-be-burned-later blanket from under him,
I instructed Chase to get some of his clothes off while I tried to wipe off his
face. I was still scared, but figured if he was in this condition, he really
wasn’t going to put up a big fight if he did wake up.
I
set the chair Chase had brought out near the edge of the bed, so I could get
closer to his face. My hands were shaking as I poured some of the water from
the bottle onto a washcloth. I started at his forehead, where the largest cut
was. After the towel started to pick up the dried blood, I waited for the cut
to issue a fresh new wave. It seemed the gash wasn’t as deep, but it must have
bled a lot when it first happened. I watched him closely as I wiped off the
rest of his face. I was waiting for him to flinch, or make some sudden move.
I
couldn’t tell if he was still breathing or not, but I looked down where Chase
had removed part of his shirt and could see his bruised muscular chest moving
up and down rhythmically.
Most
of his face was dirty or caked with blood. As I wiped both off, I could see his
features better. He appeared to be in his mid-thirties, but didn’t show any
signs of someone who had lived such a hard life. He had baby-soft skin, like a
boy who had never seen a razor before. It was surprising to see how perfect and
white his teeth were in contrast to his deeply tanned skin.
I
looked back to see how Chase was coming with his clothes. His shirt was already
cut away, and he had taken off his shoes and socks. He seemed to be stuck in a
daze about getting his pants off. He must have been thinking the same thing I
was.
“I
think you can just cut them up above the knees.” I said. “I’m sure she just
wants to make sure there is no clothing in the way.”
Chase
looked relieved at the idea and continued. It broke the tension in the room. I
couldn’t help but laugh about it. Chase joined in. It had distracted me from
noticing a sudden grip around my left wrist.
Job’s
hand was strong, and I jumped in fear at his touch. I could hear a small scream
escape me as I tried to free his hold. He held on tight with one cool, clammy
hand, and was pulling me close to him. His breathing was shallow and quick, and
I could see he was scared. His one open eye kept shifting back between me and
Chase, as though he was trying to figure out what we were doing to him.
Chase
had already stood back up and was holding the scissors as though he was going
to stab him if he hurt either one of us. The sight scared the Sayner even more,
as his grip grew tighter. I was going to have my wrist crushed if I didn’t find
a way to earn his trust.
“Chase,
put the scissors down. I don’t think he knows what’s going on.” I had slowly
put my other hand out to Chase, trying to motion to him. My eyes were locked on
Job’s. His grip tightened again, and I could feel my hand going numb. “Job, W–we
are trying to h–help you. P–please don’t hurt m–me.”
I
tried to stay as calm as possible, but knew there was a fear in my voice that I
couldn’t overcome. His expression changed, and the same look of misery I had
seen earlier that day was back. Although his rapid breathing didn’t slow, his
hold loosened, and I was able to pull my hand away. I massaged my wrist
involuntarily, as if to rub the pain away. His gaze was still fixed on me. At
least the head injury he sustained didn’t change his alertness. He still
understood what we were saying to some degree.
“Chase
is trying to cut your pants off. You were hurt pretty bad. Okay?”
I
kept waiting for an answer, but instead he looked down at Chase to see that I
was telling the truth. Chase had released the dagger grip on the scissors and
was holding them normally, trying to show him what he was going to do. He
grabbed the cuff of his right pant leg first and started to cut up to above his
knee. Job’s breathing slowed a bit and he seemed to settle down. It seemed his
fear of us was outweighing any pain he felt.