 |
| (visual by Tony the Misfit via this license) |
dispatch seven
Tarn-Pit by Drew Kalbach
debuted 1 July 2009 | kept 1052 times | click to keep
"Fine, a doctor," he said between heaves.
Jean dropped the dishtowel and called a hospital. The hospital said they would dispatch a doctor as soon as one was available. Jean thanked them and hung up.
Aubrey stopped vomiting. He turned the water on and splashed some in his face then leaned down and drank some. "The eggs were good," he said.
"Yes, they were," Jean said.
"He got me with a stick he sharpened all night he said," Aubrey said.
"A stick," Jean repeated.
"I didn’t come with a weapon. I wanted to feel his skin. I was lucky he was old or else he would have killed me. I got him on the ground and hit him until he stopped moving."
"Did it hurt?" Jean asked.
"No, it never hurts until it’s all over, then you remember and it’s the remembering that starts the pain. And then when he stopped moving I stood up and the judges declared me winner and then we left and I cooked you breakfast."
"The eggs were very good," Jean said.
Jean stared at the wound on Aubrey’s side. Jean took her shirt off and placed the shirt against the wound. Aubrey looked at her and smiled.
"You wore it today," Aubrey said.
"Your favorite," Jean said.
The doctor knocked. Jean let him in. The doctor sat Aubrey down in a chair and looked at the wound and made several sounds with his nose. "This wound was received by a wooden stick, was it not?"
"Yes," Aubrey said.
The doctor pressed his fingers on the flesh around the wound and made more noises and placed his nose almost inside the flesh and smelled as neatly as he could. Jean stood by with, arms folded over her breasts. The doctor stopped sniffing and looked through his bag, nodding.
"I see. Well, there is not much to be done. Take two of these twice a day and try to get some rest."
"Very good, thank you," Aubrey said.
"Yes, thank you very much," Jean said.
The doctor took a bottle of pills from his bag and gave them to Aubrey. Aubrey opened the cap and took two. The doctor stood up and left. Jean sat next to Aubrey. The blood covered the floor and Jean felt it would take forever to clean.
"I feel tired," Aubrey said.
"Rest, get plenty of rest," Jean said.
Jean put her hand on Aubrey’s arm. He laid his head down on the table and closed his eyes. Jean smelled toast burning. She squeezed Aubrey’s arm and did not feel dirty.
 |
Drew Kalbach lives in Philadelphia and is the author of The Zen of Chainsaws and Enormous Clippers (Paper Hero Press, 2008) and Theater (Scantily Clad Press, 2009). |