“In fact, I think this is a really bad idea.” Bob’s tone was even more urgent.

“Be quiet,” Joanne said. “And don’t move.” She took a deep breath. “Okay, on the count of three. One. Two. Three.”

Derrick tightened his grip and started to pull the foot toward him, angling it a little bit.

Bob screamed, high and shrill. Suddenly, mercifully, he stopped. With a thump, he flopped back on the bed.

“Keep going!” Joanne ordered. “Finish it before he comes to.”

Derrick pulled harder this time, trying to focus in the dim room on the dark splotch that marked where the bone had broken through the skin. Through his hands, he felt the vibration of something clicking back into place.

“That’s it!” Joanne said. “Good job.” Rare praise, but it barely registered.

When Derrick picked up his phone to check Bob’s leg, the bone had disappeared.

But things did not actually look that much better. There was still a bloody gash. And the whole area was starting to look puffy.

Putting the bone back into place was just the start. They needed prescription pain medication, antibiotics, sterile conditions, and an orthopedic surgeon.

What they had was expired Tylenol and three people who had no idea what they were doing.

“Let’s get him the right way on the bed,” Derrick suggested.

Together the three of them maneuvered Bob into more or less the correct orientation. In a weird way, it felt like they were now co-conspirators. Even though Derrick and Joanne were the ones who had brought Bob here, it was Bridget who had broken his ankle. Now she lifted Bob’s head and put a pillow under it. She gently draped the covers over his torso.

“Do you have any ice we could put on his foot?” she asked.

Derrick gestured toward the window, feeling a harsh laugh bubble up. “Miles of it.”

“I think we need to splint it first,” Joanne said. “And it’s probably better if we do it while he’s still unconscious. Derrick, go get some of those old magazines from the living room. And then you can fill a garbage bag or two with snow.”

The splint they made ended up looking totally ridiculous. They padded his ankle with washcloths and then tied two old copies of National Geographic around it with kitchen twine. After propping his leg up on an extra blanket from the hall cupboard, they put two garbage bags full of snow on either side.

After that, Derrick and Joanne left Bridget to watch Bob, and they went to bed.

But Derrick couldn’t sleep, especially after Bob’s moans started floating down the hall. His head felt full of static, and his body vibrated with itchy panic.

If Bob died, then he would never finish Eyes of the Forest.

AJAY

Mix of Feelings