Rise of a Queen

Chapter 21

Fifteen minutes later the door opened once again with the return of Lumiere and Corinth, and Brandon after them once he realized they were back. Lumiere unloaded a plastic bag full of medical supplies: bandages, antibacterial ointment, a pair of small scissors, bandaids, gauze, tape, medication, needles, a cheap cell phone.

    And several packs of cigarettes.

    Upon seeing them, Brandon whispered a quiet praise before cracking open the package and lighting a cigarette. On his first breath, his eyes closed. On the second, his eyes opened, and they were more calm than before, "Corinth, take off his old bandage. We will get him cleaned up and hopefully stop the bleeding, at least until we figure out what to do next."

    Corinth followed her brother's commands as he gave them and as she began cutting the bandage around Dustin's torso, Lumiere took me by the hand and began leading me towards the door. When I inquired why, he drew me in close and said under his breath, "I don't want you to see what is under that gauze. Besides, this room isn't very big and we will only be in the way if we stay."

    I managed a single glance backwards before Lumiere escorted me into the darkness outside and closed the door tightly behind us. My faith in Brandon was weak at best and although I would trust Corinth with my own life, still I was worried, "Do they know what they're doing?"

    Lumiere strolled towards an outdoor bench placed some distance from our room, hands in his pockets and head dipped low, "Doc would certainly be more qualified, but Brandon and Corinth have their fair share of experience with taking care of serious injuries. They even saved my life a time or two. Trust me sweetheart, Dustin is in good hands."

    He sat down heavily on the bench with sore muscles that ached and burned every time he moved. Once seated, he let himself fall backwards until he was leaning against the wall of the building and from his pocket he withdrew a pack of cigarettes he had taken from the table inside. I watched in silence as he smacked the carton against his palm several times, pulled a cigarette from within, then stuck it between his lips and used a small lighter to warm the distant end.

    He inhaled a deep breath and let his head fall back against the wall. After several seconds, he allowed the smoke to leak from his lungs on a slow, steady exhale that caused the grey clouds to hover above his head like an early morning fog.

    "It has been a while since I've seen you with one of those." I commented quietly, nodding towards the cigarette hooked between his fingers.

    He took another long drag and held in the breath with his eyes closed to savor the calming effect it distributed, reducing his distress and bringing to him composure. Smoke oozed from misleadingly relaxed lips when he spoke with a tone so very deep either from exhaustion or pain, "It has been a while since I've needed one."

    I approached him slowly on my injured leg with my hands clasped lightly behind my back, "Are you going to offer me one?"

    "Nope."

    "Why not?"

    He smiled to himself, "Because I still have hope for you to live a long healthy life without lung cancer from smoking or liver failure from drinking. That's why." His face remained directed towards the sky but he reached out to pat the wood beside him where empty space waited in earnest to be filled by another, "Sit with me."

    I eased myself down onto the bench, swinging my good leg from where it hung too short to touch the ground. He waited until I was comfortable before his hand drifted into my lap to lace his fingers with mine and I sandwiched his hand between my own, "How are you feeling?"