Thursday, January 30th Pt.3

Thursday, January 30th Pt.3
“Parker, he’s not going to like it but these clothes need to be cut off. They are soaked in urine. Do we have any kid size shorts or pants we can put on him? A blanket?” 

Derrick immediately starts rummaging through my pack remembering what I have failed to. Meanwhile, I can hear Parker’s phone on speaker ringing on the other end. To our relief Jessa picks up on the second ring. 

“Micah needs Zofran. He’s thrown up at least twice since we got here.” Parker speaks before she has a chance to. 

“Can you guess his weight?” She responds. 

“Thirty, forty pounds max.” I answer quickly. She stays silent for a moment. 

“You need to give him 1.5 milligrams of Zofran. With him vomiting so often you need to give it as a shot.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

He immediately opens the special medical bag he carries, unzipping it so it unfolds flat. He quickly puts together the syringe filled with medication as Micah whimpers softly against my leg. Parker approaches quietly, sitting upon the ground with a small clear bag in his hand. 

“I know this is very scary. You haven’t been treated with kindness for a long time and you have no reason to trust us but right now, that’s what we need from you.” 

He’s gone silent with his only movement being curling his tiny hand around the fabric of my pants. 

“We need to get you out of these clothes. Considering they are soaked and stuck to your skin this might hurt but the longer they stay the worse your skin will hurt.” 

“It’s not just pee.” He speaks in the smallest voice I’ve ever heard. 

“What else is it?” Parker asks as he starts cutting the sleeve closest to him. 

“I don’t know. He threw me in a tub of cold water. My entire body was on fire but he wouldn’t let me out. I threw up worse and couldn’t breathe.” 

“Keep the clothes for testing.” I look Parker in the eyes as I say it. 

He stops his cutting and places the scissors on the plastic bag. He stands, returning to his pack pulling a large sterile bag from one of the pockets. I watch my beta carefully as he pulls the same wipes he gave to me and wipes his own hands off. 

“My guess is that water contained the same thing that he’s throwing up.”

Parker mumbles under his breath but we can still hear him clearly.

He returns to us but positions himself so he can reach the opposite sleeve. He starts cutting carefully, again going from his elbow to his neck. He’s wearing gloves as he peels the fabric from the child’s back. 

“Micah, I need you to stand up so I can get the front of the shirt off you.” 

The little guy fumbles his feet, struggling to find the dirt lying beneath them. It’s as he finally relents to placing his right hand upon my leg that he’s finally able to lift himself up. His strength is short lived. No sooner than Parker gets the drenched clothing off his upper body he collapses against my leg, vomiting bile into the puddle created on the other side. He lays his head against my leg too exhausted to cry or protest in any way. I know he’s not going to hang on much longer. 

“I’m sorry little bud. This is going to be a slight pinch with a burn behind it but I promise this won’t cause you more pain.” 

Parker explains giving Micah a shot without actually calling it what it is. Micah doesn’t move when it’s given, again scaring me that we’re too late. 

“He’s breathing Day. Your father is on his way. He’s bringing clothes and a blanket to wrap him in. Darren is waiting on the main path. He’s the third fastest in running after us.” 

He reads my mind, reassuring me as he cuts through the shorts and underwear that the child is wearing. Parker whistles low as the rest of his clothes are peeled off his body. 

“No wonder he’s so sick.” I hear dad’s voice. 

I look up to see that he has brought the additional supplies himself to the site. He holds up his own lantern, shining it upon the boy’s back. His nude body bares the marks of a mad man. 

“Even though he is critical we need to get him bathed to see the extent of this damage. It is obviously deeply infected.” 

He states as he hands Parker a silk lined, fleece night gown. 

“I don’t think the semantics of girl versus boy pajamas is going to bother him much.” 

I nod as we help the nearly comatose child into the clothes. He wakes up enough to get his arms through the sleeves before Parker picks him up. He cries out briefly until he gets his full body wrapped in a soft fleece blanket. Dad steps over to me, reaching his hand out to help me up. I take it and quickly pull myself away from the stench coming from the vomit on the ground. 

“Parker, I need you to collect a sample of what he threw up for testing.” 

“Yes sir.” He replies while handing Micah to me. 

“Your father was pulling up behind me when I started this way. I asked him to hang back not knowing if we had a flight risk on our hands. He will come help you clean up once we get in the mule. Then he will bring you and Darren back to the pack house. Grab yourself a shower and head to bed. You have done well tonight.” 

“I don’t think I will be sleeping much tonight.” Parker comments absentmindedly. 

“Dr. Richards was alerted to tonight’s call for help. She will be available for any of you to talk to about tonight’s events.” 

He rubs Parker’s head before pulling him into a hug as I pass by. The combination of medication to stop the vomiting, clean clothes and a warm blanket has knocked little Micah out. The only thing telling me that he’s still alive is feeling his rhythmic breath upon the skin of my neck.