It was for Perley’s body that I’d quit working as a nurse and now I took it up again. He cried. He yelled. He shuddered. I attended the body I most wanted to attend. I dug out tooth fragments, cleaned, compressed, applied salve, dressed the wound. Lily held him hard from beginning to end, murmured to him, kissed his ear, smoothed and smoothed our son’s sweaty forehead. The snake had left a slick substance, some kind of rank defensive oil. It coated my arms and chest. It soaked the sheets.

Finally, when my work was done, Lily released Perley into my arms. It had been two years since she’d stopped nursing him, but as she fell back into the bloody pillows, I saw the damp circles spread from her nipples, darkening the sheet. Her new milk mingled with the snake oil.

HELEN

Perley’s wound looked like a human bite, all the little holes arranged around a circle, and Karen barked at me for iodine, tweezers, sage. I handed her the supplies, climbed up after them to watch. No one told me not to hover. No one told me anything, except how to help. In the morning we moved Perley down to the sofa. Karen stitched Perley up with her suture kit. Perley clung to Lily, who had gone liquid, salt dripping down her cheeks, milk leaking down her front. “The breast milk is good,” Karen told her. “Squeeze some into a cup so that we can use it to clean the wound.” Watching Karen push the suture through, pincer it with the needle pusher, calmly tie each graceful knot, I knew I was supposed to feel distressed, panicked even, definitely sobered. I told myself that I felt those things. But I was lying. I felt like singing.

Humming, I made breakfast. Cheerily, I clanged the pans. I melted duck fat. I unsealed a precious jar of venison. I fried extra sardines. I kept Karen and Lily full of strong coffee. I plugged in the phone and called in to work for Lily. I poured catnip tea down Perley’s throat until he spluttered. No one scolded me. No one told me to butt out. I had been seven long years with these women and their child, and this was the first time we were all in agreement.

“Should we take him to the doctor?” Lily asked, wiping her eyes into Perley’s hair.

“What could a doctor do that I’m not already doing?” Karen asked.

“What if it gets infected?” Lily asked.

“If it gets infected, I’ll give him antibiotics,” Karen said. “I can do that. Don’t worry.” She squeezed Lily’s hand. She wiped Lily’s blurred eyes with the corner of her shirt. I tried not to stare.