The first-aid instructor lurched over Gus Garson, his latest victim, who lay splayed out on the tile floor. The scrawny eleven-year-old was in Eli\u2019s den, not that Eli knew him well. This was Eli\u2019s first year in scouts. Like basketball and so much else, his joining the scouts had been his dad\u2019s idea: he said Eli needed to learn \u201cpractical life skills.\u201d<\/p>\n
The brutish and clumsy first-aid instructor was here at the church community center, where Eli\u2019s scout troop held all its den meetings, to help the scouts complete their first-aid badge requirements. He traced his finger down Gus\u2019s sternum. \u201cYou stop where the bone drops off and the chest becomes soft,\u201d he told the group.<\/p>\n
Eli did this on his own body, and he was a little surprised by that soft, vulnerable spot, that all along it had been there.<\/p>\n
Earlier when the man had taught them how to treat flesh wounds, he\u2019d emptied a blue plastic bin of white Styrofoam cylinders. The cylinders had various gashes and holes reddened with paint that was supposed to look like blood. The wounds had looked real somehow despite that the cylinders resembled human limbs about as well as table legs. Eli had held his arms protectively. It was a miracle it seemed to him now that he\u2019d survived eleven years without suffering such catastrophes.<\/p>\n
\u201cGo up two fingers from the drop-off,\u201d the first-aid instructor said, crawling those fingers back up Gus\u2019s willowy chest. Then he stacked his hands on top of Gus\u2019s sternum like he was making a sandwich with them. He said, \u201cIf he really weren\u2019t breathing, I\u2019d pump his chest so hard, I\u2019d crack his ribs. But because he is breathing, and we\u2019re just practicing, I\u2019m being more gentle.\u201d<\/p>\n
The look on Gus\u2019s face said not nearly gentle enough. Eli remembered the time his cat had come in from the backyard with a mouse dangling from her mouth. Pinned to the tile floor, Gus reminded Eli of that mouse. Eli wanted to do something to help Gus, but what? He looked around, and it didn\u2019t seem that anybody else thought Gus needed helping.<\/p>\n
Eli\u2019s dad was over by the folding table talking to the white-mustached man with the money box. The two of them were laughing in that confident, careless way Eli had seen his dad laugh so many times\u2014a manner of laughing which Eli\u2019s body didn\u2019t seem capable of. Neither man was paying any attention to Gus.<\/p>\n
Outside of Eli\u2019s dad and the den leaders\u2014most of the den leaders were dads\u2014the other parents present were moms. Some of the moms were joiners who were always volunteering for things. Other moms plopped down at tables around the edges of the room and hid behind their phones. The weirder ones, like Kyle Pierce\u2019s mom, who had eyes that looked perpetually startled as though she were a character in a monster movie, stared off into space for the entire hour.<\/p>\n
One of the joiner moms, the one who brought the chocolate chips for the pancakes the morning of the campout last month, intervened. She looked to the first-aid instructor and said, \u201cBut we shouldn\u2019t do this with our little brothers and sisters at home, right? Because we could hurt them, right? So what should we practice on?\u201d<\/p>\n
She was doing that thing adults do in which \u201cwe\u201d doesn\u2019t really mean all of us, but \u201cyou kids.\u201d Maybe that\u2019s why a beat passed before the first-aid instructor realized she was looking for him to suggest some safe alternative that wouldn\u2019t result in trips to the Emergency Room.<\/p>\n
Finally, he jumped up and slapped down two life jackets one on top of the other, and said, \u201cThere!\u201d<\/p>\n
The mom, trying to translate life jackets into common household objects, said, \u201cSo maybe some pillows? A couch cushion?\u201d<\/p>\n
The first-aid instructor nodded, but Eli could see he was disinterested. For this guy, first aid wasn\u2019t about injury prevention. First aid depended on injuries. In fact, for the first-aid instructor, first aid was to injuries like the remora fish was to the shark it swims alongside of, gobbling up parasites from the shark\u2019s skin and mouth. That is to say, first aid and injuries had a symbiotic relationship.<\/p>\n
When the first-aid instructor had taught them how to stop a wound from bleeding, he\u2019d thrusted his finger into a reddened hole in one of the Styrofoam cylinders, like plugging a leak in a bucket. Eli had felt as though the man\u2019s dirty fingernail were scraping something delicate inside him.<\/p>\n
The man had such a variety of wounds that Eli thought of the activity-station toy his little sister had started to outgrow. Components to satisfy each of your infant\u2019s senses\u2014something scratchy, something soft, something squishy, something shiny, something that rattles. The burn scars on the first-aid instructor\u2019s gnarled hands, a knot the size of a doorknob on his shin, two parallel lines like staples slashing his left eyebrow, the missing pinkie finger on his right hand. He\u2019d said earlier in that hour, \u201cYou name it, I\u2019ve done it\u201d after telling them about striking his own kneecap with an axe. When Caroline Wilcox asked what kind of axe, the first-aid instructor said \u201cfelling axe\u201d and proceeded to tell them that he had that axe, along with three others, in the back of his truck if they wanted to see later. Kids raised their arms. Moms raised their eyebrows.<\/p>\n
When he\u2019d demonstrated the Heimlich, or what he called the \u201cbelly thrust maneuver,\u201d on Malcolm Fishbane, he\u2019d leaned back as he thrusted his joined hands into Malcolm\u2019s belly cavity, and so lifted poor Malcolm into the air on the fulcrum of his own belly. After, Malcolm folded his arms protectively over his middle, and he hadn\u2019t removed his arms since.<\/p>\n
When the first-aid instructor had demonstrated saving a drowning person by throwing them a lifesaver, he\u2019d smacked Kyle Pierce, his volunteer victim for that round, in the mouth with that lifesaver. Kyle\u2019s eyes went wide. Then his face crumpled and reddened. The first aid instructor looked at him, confused. \u201cGrab the lifesaver,\u201d he said. \u201cGrab the lifesaver! Grab the lifesaver!\u201d<\/p>\n
To the guy\u2019s credit, Eli guessed, he probably didn\u2019t see the lifesaver smack Kyle in the face. He\u2019d been looking at the rest of them, talking so fast you\u2019d think Kyle really was drowning and there was no time to spare. One thing you could say for this guy was he was frantic with his enthusiasm for saving lives. His mantra was it\u2019s better to do something than nothing at all. He said it over and over with each new demonstration. So, when Kyle said, \u201cYou hurt me,\u201d Eli didn\u2019t think the first-aid instructor understood what the heck Kyle was talking about. Also, though, Eli didn\u2019t think the first-aid instructor would have cared if he had understood. He might have still said exactly what he said: \u201cSuck it up, buttercup!\u201d This was a phrase Eli\u2019s dad said from time to time, like when Eli didn\u2019t want to eat the chunky onions in his spaghetti sauce or he didn\u2019t want to go to basketball practice. Even though Eli\u2019s mom had explained that a buttercup is a flower, Eli always pictured a chocolate peanut-butter cup. Only he pictured a melted, smushed chocolate peanut-butter cup retrieved from the tight sliver of a jean pocket.<\/p>\n
Needless to say, Kyle did not grab that lifesaver.<\/p>\n
Also, nobody else volunteered to be the first-aid instructor\u2019s victim after that.<\/p>\n
But victims they became, nonetheless. The first-aid instructor pointed kids out and called them forward. Sometimes he grabbed one of them from behind like when he took Gus\u2019s shoulders into his meaty hands and commanded him to lie down and act unconscious.<\/p>\n
Even though the guy didn\u2019t actually breathe into Gus\u2019s mouth, and said as much aloud\u2014\u201cBecause he\u2019s breathing, I\u2019m not actually going to perform mouth to mouth on him. I\u2019m going to demonstrate by blowing to the side of his mouth\u201d\u2014anyone could see Gus was uncomfortable with how close the first-aid instructor\u2019s red-cabbage head was to his face. Gus lay so still, like prey hoping that if it didn\u2019t move, a nearby predator wouldn\u2019t see it.<\/p>\n
Eli thought again about that poor mouse his cat had brought in the house, the look of terror in its eyes. When the cat dropped it on the floor, the mouse didn\u2019t move except to quiver in place. The creature literally shook with fear. To Eli\u2019s horror, his dad had laughed. Then, seeing the look on Eli\u2019s face, his dad said, \u201cI don\u2019t think the situation is funny. It\u2019s just that the way that mouse is shaking is kind of funny, you have to admit.\u201d<\/p>\n
Finally, the first-aid instructor finished with Gus. He stood up. He moved on to reviewing the steps of CPR.<\/p>\n
When everyone\u2019s attention but Eli\u2019s had left Gus, Gus scrambled to rejoin the circle of kids sitting around the first-aid instructor, only he kind of hid behind Cory Schaefer, the biggest kid in the group.<\/p>\n
Eli realized that at some point his stomach had dropped into the bowl of his pelvis, leaving behind a hollow pit in that soft spot where his sternum dropped off.<\/p>\n
When the first-aid instructor started to lay down on the tile himself and said he needed a volunteer to demonstrate what he\u2019d just taught them, Eli didn\u2019t feel too freaked out when the man pointed to him because at least the first-aid instructor wasn\u2019t asking Eli to be a victim. But Eli was bothered. He didn\u2019t even want to pretend to save that man\u2019s life.<\/p>\n
Eli knelt beside him, though. He played along.<\/p>\n
When the first-aid instructor said, \u201cAm I breathing?\u201d Eli said, \u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
The first-aid instructor said, \u201cWrong!\u201d He said, \u201cHow do you check if I\u2019m breathing?\u201d<\/p>\n
Eli said, \u201cI look at your chest.\u201d<\/p>\n
The first-aid instructor said, \u201cAnd you feel whether air is coming out of my mouth and nose.\u201d<\/p>\n
With that, he grabbed Eli\u2019s head and pulled Eli\u2019s cheek so close to his lips that Eli swore he could feel that crinkly skin brush the tiny hairs on his cheek. He smelled the man\u2019s sour breath. And then there was the roughness of the man\u2019s hands against his scalp.<\/p>\n
When the first-aid instructor finally let go, and Eli pulled back, Eli saw that his dad was watching. He watched Eli intently, like he did at basketball games sometimes, a look that made Eli feel like he was being evaluated. Although his dad never said so directly, Eli knew his dad wished he were more like other boys on his team, boys like Freddie Laymon and Jorg\u00e9 Garcia, who knew what to do with that ball, who weren\u2019t afraid of the ball or the other kids trying to snatch it from them.<\/p>\n
The first-aid instructor said, \u201cNow what?\u201d<\/p>\n
Eli said, \u201cI give you chest compressions.\u201d<\/p>\n
Eli started to stack his hands on the man\u2019s sternum, but the first-aid instructor stopped Eli. \u201cIs that the right spot? How do you find the right spot?\u201d<\/p>\n
Tracing the man\u2019s sternum to that slightly soft, but not all that soft, spot below, Eli felt queasy. He tried to imagine he was tracing the smooth surface of a boulder to where it met the soft soil of a riverbank. He tried to concentrate on his form\u2014pressing all his weight into his hands, keeping his arms straight as the man had instructed.<\/p>\n
After only one compression, the first-aid instructor said, \u201cHarder.\u201d<\/p>\n
Eli pumped harder.<\/p>\n
\u201cHarder!\u201d the first-aid instructor said again. \u201cRemember, don\u2019t be afraid to hurt the person. Better to hurt them than to let them die.\u201d<\/p>\n
Eli pumped so hard, he thought he really might hurt the guy.<\/p>\n
Still, the first-aid instructor said, \u201cHarder!\u201d<\/p>\n
Eli glanced at Gus and the first-aid instructor\u2019s other victims. They were watching so intently. They looked concerned, but also curious. And eager?<\/p>\n
Eli\u2019s dad also looked eager, like he did whenever the basketball somehow ended up in Eli\u2019s hands. Maybe this time Eli would shoot and score. Maybe this time Eli would manage to dribble the ball through the crowd of other boys without losing it to one of the many hands snatching at him.<\/p>\n
When Eli resumed, he went at this guy\u2019s sternum so hard, it\u2019s not just that he thought he might hurt him, Eli realized he was trying to hurt the man. He was trying to crack every bone in the man\u2019s chest. It was weird, the way Eli\u2019s body became new to him all over again, only this time not more vulnerable than he\u2019d thought, but something he didn\u2019t even know it could be\u2014ruthless, vicious.<\/p>\n
But the weirder thing was that the man lying on that tile also wanted Eli to hurt him. His eyes scrunched up, his mouth grimaced, but he said nothing. He just lay there, quiet for the first time all afternoon, as though this was what he\u2019d been building up to this whole time, this was what he\u2019d come here for.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
…nobody else volunteered to be the first-aid instructor\u2019s victim after that. But victims they became, nonetheless.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":16205,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[896,2621,248,77,2363],"class_list":["post-16142","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fiction","tag-fathers-and-sons","tag-fiction","tag-injuries","tag-kids","tag-scouting","writer-michelle-ross"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/16142","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=16142"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/16142\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":16185,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/16142\/revisions\/16185"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/16205"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=16142"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=16142"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=16142"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}