Whakahapa, 12

Esther got back into her ute, pulled away from the safety rail with a grinding of metal and a screech from the tyres and drove, at speed, away up the road into the city.

Amos sat and watched anxiously as she disappeared into the concrete jungle. She said that Hebron was her home, but it was such a big place, the biggest he'd ever seen. He hoped that she knew where to go, how to get there and back again without getting lost. He'd get lost in 5 minutes, how would she be? He didn't know, she didn't say.

There was a rug and a couple of duvets in his ute. He rummaged through all of the gear, found them and pulled them out. Jeroboam was lying on the concrete roadway, that couldn't be helped, he wasn't moving him to get something under him. He opened the covers and spread them over him.

A pillow, he needed a pillow. Anything would be better than concrete under his head. There was one in the ute somewhere, he thought, but he couldn't find it. The first car next to him had nothing in it. The next one had several small cushions along the back window. The doors were locked, so he smashed a side window to open a door and get the cushions.

Red blood, Jeroboam's life blood was trickling from his nose and running down the side of his face – his gorgeous face. His skin was a candlewaxy white, paler than he'd ever seen it, so pale that it made the blood look dark.

The eyes were closed now. When did that happen? Still breathing? Yes! (he checked).

“Oh, Damm, Jeroboam. You keep on breathing, don't you stop. Please don't stop. We'll help you, we can fix you. Esther, she's good at everything, she knows what she's doing. There'll be an ambulance here for you soon.

Fuckit, Jeroboam! What are you doing here? Why did you run out? Please don't die. I love you.”

Whoah! He'd never said that to him before. He'd always loved him but never dared telling him so. He didn't mean to now, it just slipped out because he was upset. But, it was true anyway. He loved him.

He gently, ever so carefully, lifted Jeroboam's head and slipped a cushion under it. There. Better.

Had the blood stopped, or was it still running from his nose? Who knew? Was he warm enough now? There might be rugs in some of the cars. No, what was on him would be plenty, he didn't want to cook him.

Amos got a bottle of water from the ute, saturated the corner of a hand-towel and gently, carefully, lovingly, washed the blood from his beautiful face. Even broken, Jeroboam was like an angel.

The flow of blood had stopped. So that was good, wasn't it? Yes, it had to be good. Where the hell was Esther? How far was that hospital anyway? She didn't say, he didn't know.

Everything depended on Esther now. What would he do if she didn't come back for some reason? He could build some sort of shelter out of bits and pieces. There was a tarpaulin in the ute, he could stretch that over top of him, like a tent. Then what? He didn't know.

Maybe he'd lie down and die next to him. But, Esther would be back, wouldn't she? She bloody better be! They needed her.

Still breathing? Yes. That was good.

“Breathe, Jeroboam. Rest and breathe. It's going to be all right, you're going to be fine. Esther will help us. What were you doing on the motorway? You dumb kid!

He sat holding his hand. It is not very warm, soft, limp and unresponsive. He bent and kissed it and tried, not very sucessfully, not to cry while he sat waiting – forever!

Clouds were sliding in from the sea, blotting out the sun and making the day darker. It wasn't going to rain, was it? He hoped not. That'd be the last thing they needed.

“Don't die. Please don't die,” he whispered, leaning down so close he could feel his breath on his cheek. He could kiss him, like he'd always dreamed of doing, but he would not – that'd be like taking advantage.

“Esther! Where the fuck are you??”

He looked up and got his answer – an ambulance was coming out of the city. Wouldn't it be great if she didn't see and ran over them? He got up, stood over the recumbent form, waved frantically and was greatly relieved when she answered with a flick of the headlights. It was going to be all right.

+++++++++++++++++

They installed Jeroboam in a second-floor room of the Academy Hotel. Amos didn't see why they didn't go to the hospital, but Esther said there was no point, they weren't doctors and there was no-one there. He wasn't arguing with her, as long as she was helping he'd go along with whatever she said.

At first they lit candles to light the room, but they didn't seem right so he got 3 kerosene lamps going. They made plenty of light.

Esther had brought some supplies from the hospital, so, along with what was in the ambulance, they had bandages, plasters, cotton wool and splints, a breathing mask and cylinders of oxygen, nitrous oxide and chloroform, penicillin, sleeping pills, morphine, valium, librium and hypodermics, anitseptics and more – like they had their own surgery or whatever.

They probably wouldn't use most of it, it was just nice to have it if they needed it. There was no heater for the room but, as long as they kept him well covered, the windows and door closed and the lamps going, the room would warm-up, hopefully.

They stripped Jeroboam naked, cutting his clothes off him. Amos would've found that very exciting and interesting at another time and place, but not now, he was too worried.

Odd really, he couldn't do it, so Esther felt all around the boy's body, his torso, neck and head and all of his limbs. The right leg was swollen and badly bruised below the knee, but as far as she could tell, there were no broken bones, probably.

“I think I hit him with a glancing blow but he hit the road pretty hard. I don't know, there could be internal injuries. Time will tell, I guess.”

“Could we take him to the hospital and xray him?”

“No. The less he's moved the better. Xray machines need electricity and people who know how to work them. That is not us. We wouldn't know how to read them either. No, we'll wait and see. I don't think his skull is broken, but he's had a good knock.”

“Is he? Will he? Esther, is he going to get better?”

“Sorry, Sweet. I wish I could say yes, but I really don't know.”

“Oh. Should he be sleeping all this time?”

“That's good, I think. The temperature is a bit high but his pulse is normal. I think he's resting and sleeping normally, and he probably needs to. While he's sleeping he's not hurting.

We'll wash his wounds with antiseptic, bandage him up and leave him alone.”

“We're not going to wake him?”

“We're not. He seems peaceful enough as he is.”

He didn't want to, but she insisted that he go down and unload his ute and bring all of his food and gear upstairs to set-up in the next room. (There were plenty of rooms to choose from). Esther sat and watched their patient while he did that, and then he sat and watched him while she went and cooked their evening meal – curry in a can with fries.

She took one of the lamps with her. She said that there was too much light in there for a sick-room and she needed it. Sitting there, thinking about that, he decided that she was probably right and he doused one of the other lamps as well. They didn't need a lot of light to watch Jeroboam sleeping.

There were a lot of rooms here, he'd go out and get some more lamps sometime. For now, all that he wanted to do was to sit and watch and wait for Jeroboam to wake up. He would wake up, wouldn't he? Yes, of course he would.

Funny, he didn't feel at all like praying for him. Anyway, if he did, Esther would probably tell him that it was a waste of time and effort and quote some bible passage to back her up. He sat quietly watching their patient; he'd happily sit there all night looking at him.

Esther brought their meals in and they sat and ate together.

“Good meal. Thanks, Esther.”

“You're welcome, but it was no big deal, just heat and eat.”

“Jeroboam's going to be starving when he wakes up. If he wakes up.”

“He'll wake up when he's ready. Of course he will. Stop worrying; worrying never did anybody any good.”

“Would praying for him do any good?”

“Amos! Shouldn't I be asking you that? If it makes you feel better, you go for it. I'm not telling you what to think.”

“Just what to do,” Amos nodded.

“Shut up!” she grinned. “We do what we have to. Now I'm going to bed. Don't sit here all night, you need your sleep too.”

“I'm not going anywhere.”

“Don't then. Make up a bed for yourself in here. I'll be across the hall, call me if you need me and don't burn the place down.”

“I'll try not to. Goodnight, Esther and thank you.”

“Thank me for what?”

“For looking after Jeroboam.”

“Well of course! G'night, Boy. I'll see you in the morning and I hope not before then.”

He was going to, honestly, he was – but he didn't. He dragged a mattress through from the next room, dumped the covers and pillows on top of it, and then he sat down again to watch Jeroboam.

He could sit there like that, close to him, forever and not be bored. He wasn't too hot was he? No. He felt his forehead, (again!), and he seemed to be okay. What would he know anyway? Not much, but he thought that he was all right. He hoped so.

He went to sleep sitting in the chair next to the bed.