NOTE: There is a dance sequence that takes place within the marketplace in this chapter, and I have given a link to a song that I feel that best represents what I was picturing as I was describing the music. If you want an amped-up atmosphere for the book, when Alan first mentions the music of wooden flutes and drums, start playing the video (scroll down and it will be on the right). It's not essential, but it definitely adds to the story as your reading. Enjoy! :)
After applying the cold cream across my chest and my back, I instantly began to feel numb. Not the type of numb I had felt when I ran away from my house; the type of numb that brought a welcoming relief to the aching pain in my muscles. “I’ve only used this once before,” Bale explained as he continued to apply the ointment with a brush.
“Well, it’s working,” I said happily. “Would it be possible to apply that to my legs, too?”
“Not if you want to lose full mobility of your legs all day,” he said. “This ointment works for twelve hours.”
“Does it matter?” I asked rhetorically. “I’ll be in a wheelchair either way.”
Bale seemed to consider it for a moment, but eventually shook his head. “Best to use as little of this stuff as possible. I just wanted to remedy the worst of the injuries.” He finished applying the paste and set the jar onto the nightstand beside my bed. The same nurse that had brought out the wheelchair came up and handed him a roll of gauze, which he tightly wrapped around my chest and back. “It will help prevent infection on the cuts in your back,” he said. “Other than that, I’m mainly just using it to keep the ointment from getting everywhere.”
He rubbed his hands together and stood up. “Well, I’d better attend to my other patients.”
“Are you not going to the festival?” I asked.
He shrugged as if it were no big deal. “Hey, duty calls.” He was about to walk off before he paused. Turning around to look at me, he said, “Don’t forget, my offer is still up. If you need to get away from your father . . . for good, I can help.”
“Thanks,” I said, though I knew I would never need the help in the first place. My mother would be absolutely heart-broken if I permanently ran away. I wondered if my father had beaten her after he watched me run from the house. Instantly feeling guilty, I looked away from Bale’s sympathetic face. “But I don’t think I’ll need it, Bale.”
He didn’t look surprised. “Once you’re ready to leave, just ask one of the nurses.”
“I want to go now.”
He waved over the Wheelchair-nurse. Funny how I’ve made several trips to the clinic and was still unable to remember all of the nurses’ names. Maybe because I would always be too deep in a state of pain to remember them? “Hello, Alan,” she said. “May I help you into your wheelchair?”
“It’s not my wheelchair,” I hastily corrected her.
She blinked in surprise. “I’m sorry. Do you still need help?”
I nodded. “Thanks.”
She took me by the arms and slowly lifted me off the bed and into the wooden chair. It creaked under my weight, and it was obvious that it hadn’t been used in quite some time. “I can put a pillow behind your back if the padding isn’t soft enough.”
YOU ARE READING
Salamander
FantasyTaking place in the midst of the War of Cybernetics, the young and feeble Alan finds himself in a grim situation. A situation that causes him to leave his hometown with a group of the King's army known as The Collectors - people whose soul purpose i...
