Chapter 33
Tourniquet
There is a shriek. And moaning. Blood and torn flesh.
Kevin is on his hands and knees. And then he is lying on the ground.
“We should call 911,” Victoria says, kneeling.
“No,” says Aidan, crouching next to her. He is firm on this. “The cops might come. You want a bunch of hyped-up robots crawling around here, interviewing us for hours? No thanks. I’ll just drive him to the hospital.”
Kevin begs them to wrap up his arm but not take him anywhere. He says that if they report this, the police will make them send Gretel away. They will put her to sleep. It will kill Dad to lose his Gretel.
Victoria hesitates. I think what Kevin is saying must be true from the troubled look on her face.
His forearm is bleeding badly. His wrist looks torn. Victoria runs to fetch a full stack of white kitchen towels. Yet the blood keeps coming, drenching one towel and then the next.
Kevin cries out again and again in pain, thrashing his head back and forth, but forcing his body to lie still.
I look up to check on Charlie. He remains on the stairs, one hand over his mouth.
Don’t move, Charlie. No one needs to know you’re here.
“God, it hurts. Wrap it up tighter,” Kevin demands. “TIGHTER. Make a tourniquet. Why doesn’t anyone learn First Aid anymore?”
“Hide the gun,” Aidan tells Vicky. “Stupid goddamn gun.”
She grabs it and runs upstairs. When she sees Charlie, she freezes in surprise. But she doesn’t say anything. She breezes past him, hopping up the final few steps.
Kevin winces and looks at Aidan. “Are you gonna tell your parents?”
Aidan snorts. “Am I going to tell my parents that you pulled a gun on me? Why would I do that? So my dirtbag dad can shake down my girlfriend’s parents for money? Money that he would waste on total crap? No, thanks. That would be a no.”
“Okay.” Kevin rests his head back on the floor. His eyes flutter closed.
Aidan glances at Kevin’s face. The color is quickly draining out of it. Aidan looks worried. He runs to the coat closet, and comes back with a black scarf. “Hey, man. I’ll tie this real tight around your arm. You ready?”
Kevin opens his eyes again, but stares at the ceiling and seems to see nothing. “Go for it.”
Victoria comes back downstairs and looks at her brother on the floor. We can all see how pale he is. She shakes her hands out, hard. “Kevin,” she cries, “If it’s you or the dog, I’m sorry, but you win. We’re going to call 911. You’re really bleeding.”
But once Aidan ties the scarf tight and Victoria has arranged a bandage around and around and around Kevin’s wrist, the bleeding slows. She brings ice, and over time, the emergency passes.
Thank goodness! I feel my legs start to wobble and relax, so I plop down on the edge of the rug.
Aidan sits with his legs crossed next to Kevin, who still lies on the floor. They have his arm propped up on a pillow. “So,” Aidan says, “First your cat went psycho on me, and now your dog attacked you. You ever gonna trust that dog again?”
“Of course,” Kevin states. “She’s a trained police dog.” He glances over at Gretel. “She was just helping out. She was doing what she was trained to do. Disarm the threat. Weren’t you, girl?”
I think he’s right. Gretel was never angry. She could have torn the muscle right off of the bone of his arm if she had wanted to with her powerful jaws. But when Kevin immediately dropped the gun and sunk to the floor, she let go.
Gretel trots right over and licks Kevin’s hand. And then his face. It’s sort of gross. But Kevin actually smiles. “Ew, Gretel. C’mon, stop.”
It’s the first time I’ve seen him smile in some time. I think he is tremendously relieved.
So are we all. Victoria reaches out to drag me over and hold me on her lap, and strokes me hard with both hands. I look up at her. Her eyes glisten with the shock of what’s happened.
Aidan yawns, tired after all the excitement. When he and Victoria make eye contact, I can see the unspoken bond they share.
Victoria exhales and turns back to her brother. “I hid that gun where you will never find it.”
“It’s Dad’s gun. He’s going to look for it eventually.”
“So tell him you lost it out in the woods.” She scowls. “Or tell him the truth. I don’t care. Either way. You’re a TRAITOR.” She leans down and gets right in his face, so I have to jump up out of her lap. “You threatened us WITH A GUN. You’re out of your mind.” Her nose scrunches up. “You smell like beer. Have you been drinking? Here, you’ve been drinking here in the house? Give me a break. You deserve whatever the hell you get for losing that gun.”
Aidan puts a hand on her arm, as if to calm her down. “Hey. There’s a ton of blood on this rug, Vic,” he says.
She looks around and frowns. “Yeah. But it’s a small rug. My mom could—”
“Don’t tell Mom,” Kevin begs. “Please. You’ve seen what she’s going through. She can’t handle it right now. Please don’t say anything.”
“Yeah, Vic,” Aidan jumps in, “We don’t need to tell your mom. It’s okay. Let’s just say you spilled your nail polish and roll the rug up and dump it somewhere. I don’t want your mom to know we were fighting. I want . . . I want her to like me.”
Oh! This is something new. Aidan wants Mom to like him? This is a good thing. A very good thing.
Victoria doesn’t love the idea of throwing away the rug, but she finally agrees with the boys. They both don’t seem eager to share their story.
Hmm. Maybe if Kevin and Aidan can somehow arrive at some sort of peace, there is hope for us all.
But there will never be peace as long as Charlie is being bullied. My stomach churns as I realize there is more work to be done here.
I walk over to the foot of the stairs. Charlie and I stare at each other. His face is sad. Tired. And very worried. He looks small, curled up in a ball on the stairs with his arms over his knees.
Perhaps . . . perhaps I’ve been taking the wrong approach all along. Maybe I don’t need to identify, find, or confront the bully. I know who it is. And I won’t be able to convince him to stop.
The person I need to get through to is Charlie.
I run up the stairs, and I follow him as we slink quietly into his room. When he sits on the bed, I climb into his lap.
“What am I going to do, Lil?” he whispers to me.
I push my head into arm.
You can see what’s happening to Kevin. You know what you have to do. Or something horrible might happen to you.
He looks into my eyes. “I want this to be over. I can’t stand it anymore.”
I bat at his face with my paw. Listen! You know what you must do, Charlie. It will only get worse if you don’t make it stop. Right now.
Charlie turns to bury his face in his pillow. He punches his pillow, and I understand. He’s frustrated.
But when he turns over onto his back, Charlie finally sighs in agreement.
* * *
Later that night, I find Gretel in the kitchen. Gretel is the hero once again. This time, when I nuzzle my face into her paw, she allows it and even turns to lick my ear.
Hooray! Good job!
While I wish I’d been the hero today, I can’t deny Gretel the glory in this case. When she looks at me, panting and satisfied, I give her a twitch of my nose.
I know a brave dog when I see one.