Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Mind The Gap / 9



Bella could get her whole entire fist into a crack that I could only slip into up to my palm.

She wanted to try an under-hang climb, even though there was no way she’d be strong enough to hold herself up for more than ten seconds. I indulged her, doing more and more of that lately and brought her to the Tiger, an easy climb that started low but soon pulled itself over the face of the boulder to a more traditional route. I taped her up as best I could, padding her knuckles and already sort of knowing that this was a bad idea.

She referenced one of the best movies ever filmed and yes, I sort of fell in love with her for it.

Once again, she defied all odds, solidly surprising me by pulling herself along that crack like a fucking lizard for almost a full minute before she dropped. She was glowing, I shit you not, even in the shade. I watched her wince as she stretched out the fingers of the hand she had wedged up in there, sure that the joints were aching from the pressure. I sat beside her and pulled the tape off in a slow peel, massaging the tender muscle and delicate bones until her fingers hung limp. I pulled each one out slowly, her joints shifting under my fingers and when I glanced over at her, she was lying on the mat with her face turned away.

Everything went to complete shit when I took my turn.

Even though I didn’t want her to spot me, even though I told her that I would crush her, she went and did it anyway. Saved my head from a rock with her hand and I knew the moment I tugged her toward me and took a good look at it that our climbing was done for the time being. It was already starting to discolor and I doctored it up the best I could with Rose’s green goop and my lukewarm water bottle.

One look at the gear shift of her truck, sprouting clear up from the floor on a rusted lever and I knew there was no way she’d be able to get herself home. We threw her gear in the back, tying it down with a stray piece of rope. The truck rumbled to life like an ancient bear and growled down the highway. I called Jasper once we were on the road, kind of enjoying the experience.

“Pick you up where?” Jasper sounded distracted.

“Bella’s.”

“You mean Sparkles?”

“Dude, I - You - Just,” I stuttered, really hoping that the noise the truck was making had drowned this conversation out. “Can you come get me or not?”

“Yeah, yeah. Calm down. Give me ten.”

The only writing utensil in Bella’s truck was an ancient felt tipped marker and I wrote my phone number on her forearm, using up practically the entire length. I made her promise on pain of death to call me the moment she woke up. Her hand looked bad and I knew it would be worse tomorrow. I had the nagging feeling that it might deserve an xray, but figured that we could make that decision tomorrow.

“What was that all about?” Jasper asked as I flopped into his front seat.

“Nothing. She just couldn’t drive her truck home.”

“Why’s that?” he prodded me, probably wanting me to tell him that we’d fucked each other up against the Problem Queen.

“Dude, fuck off. Just take me to my car. I need a fucking beer.” I huffed, irritated and strung tight as a violin, fighting back that urge I’d had to use my mouth instead of my hands when I was tugging on her fingers, sucking on her knuckles until the joints straightened. Jasper snorted at my petulant response and cocked an eyebrow out the windshield.

“Sounds to me like you need a cold shower, Doll-face.”








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