Saving Katie Baker

by H. Mattern

  “Oh, I’m sure its nothing, probably just a little scrape. Must have happened at the car. I bleed rather easily though, on the verge of anemia, or so they’ve told me. I’ll bandage it up once I get back to our place.”

  “Wait. The storm is over but it’s pretty bad Katie. Maybe you should let me take a peek at your arm before you go over to your house.”

  Katie wouldn’t have it. She was ready to be done with the neighbor, so she pushed him aside and walked to the front door.

  “Why don’t you let me take the baby while you walk on over to your house.” Blake reached for the little girl without waiting for Katie to have a chance to respond.

  Katie looked at him again with questioning eyes. She could feel the tears welling up to the surface. She figured out what the look on his face was, the sadness in his eyes said it all and she could finally read it. She didn’t even have to look to know what she would find, but Katie knew that she should anyway. She needed to see it with her own eyes.

  As Katie walked toward Blake’s front door she could spot a little of the view out of the broken windowpanes before stepping out onto his front porch. He was right. It was bad. What she saw literally took her breath away.

  As she walked across the street, Katie felt as though she was walking on air, and not in a good way. This can’t be happening to me, she thought. How can this be happening? Is this another one of my nightmares? It feels so real, though. It feels too real. She would have pinched herself just then, but her body had recently become numb to the pain so she assumed she’d feel nothing.

  She walked to the place where she remembered parking the SUV but it wasn’t there, the spot was completely void of her Durango. For a brief moment she pondered the possibility of trying to call the police because it had to have been stolen by someone, but then again, as she looked up, the house wasn’t really there either, it was just a pile of rubble. A mess of wood and tattered belongings stared back at Katie.

  “Our cottage,” The words were spoken aloud as Katie stood gaping. She reached her hand up to cover her mouth as if speaking the truth would make everything real. This has to be a nightmare.

  The only thing standing unharmed was the wood stove, that beast of a thing that caused her husband and her to go into debt. He was convinced they would earn the money back through the savings it would end up providing on their heat bill every year. He was sure it would be enough to make it worth it. There hadn’t been a fire in that stove in two years, ever since he stopped lighting them.

  Katie just stood, chilled, frozen; she held her arms tightly across her body. She stared up at the emptiness. She looked at what was once her home, what was once their home; now it was a bunch of broken pieces all around her. She inhaled deeply trying to calm the anxiousness—the panic—trying to quiet the questions of what was to come of her and Micah. She felt the warmth of tears streaming down her face. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t walk any closer.

  Katie surveyed the area in front of her. Garbage, it was the first word that entered her mind. This looked like a place where people come to dump their trash. Pages from books lay all throughout, mixed with what Katie guessed to be beams of wood that used to hold her home together. She also noticed other splinters of nature mixed in pine. Looking around she noticed many of the pine trees that once stood near her home were gone, just like her Durango.

  No longer able to stand on her own two feet, she collapsed down to the ground. Her knees went into the rubble as she fell to the earth. She felt blood moving slowly down her shin, but she was only aware of the pain within: the pain that she had never been able to quiet. The inside pain; it was the pain that often invited her out for cigarettes. She was a pro at packing that pesky company of pain away, but stuffing it deep down was only temporary, as it always had a way of showing up again.

  She lay on the ground unable to control the weeping. Pounding her fists into the dirt, she screamed. “Why? What have I done to deserve this? When are you going to stop torturing me?”

  Katie wasn’t even sure to whom she was speaking, she didn’t know where to cast blame. It felt as though the world was tossing her around like dice on a game board. She was tired and dizzy and ready to give up. If only there were a white flag to wave for surrendering.

  Before she could ask another question or wait for an answer, Katie heard Blake’s footsteps. He placed his hand on her shoulder, but remained silent. She was grateful for the silence.

  Katie knew no words could ease the pain of this moment, and so she was relieved Blake didn’t attempt to find any. He just stood above Katie and waited. It was Micah who spoke first.

  “Mommy,” she said. It was Katie’s reminder that it was time for her to be strong. It was time to wipe the tears, stuff the pain, and move on just as she had done time and time before. She had to stand up, for Micah. She had to be strong, for Micah.

  Katie tried to stand, but with her knees still weak she couldn’t muster up the energy without Blake helping her to her feet. Katie hated that she needed him. She didn’t want his help. She wanted him to leave her alone. She wanted to be strong on her own.

  Blake lifted her up. Micah on his left hip and Katie he pulled close, under his right arm; they walked back to his house together. The three of them, once again huddled close to one another. Katie glanced down their road. Nothing. Not even a trace of a way out. It looked to Katie as if the trees went dancing and decided to remain huddled together after someone called “freeze” in a game of tag.

  Katie shuddered at the fact that she was stuck. Stuck here without a house. Stuck here with him. Stuck here with a pain that wouldn’t go away. Stuck here with a loss of hope and a million broken pieces. She couldn’t breathe.

  CHAPTER

  4

  Blake didn’t keep track of how long Katie had been sitting on his tattered couch or how long she’d been staring out into space before either one of them spoke. Micah had already fallen asleep in his burly arms. They were both speechless as they tried to process everything.

  How could this little girl sleep, he wondered, when the whole world was falling apart around her? How could one sleep when life had been forever altered? Oh, to be that carefree again.

  Blake continued to stare at the little girl dreaming in his arms, unsure what to do with her since he had never held a child before. He could feel his heart melting and understood how little girls are said to have their daddies wrapped around their little fingers. This little angel reminded him of his own childhood, she reminded him of his sister.

  Blake sat gingerly down on the seat next to Katie and tried to gather his jumbled thoughts and return to the present. The sight of blood soaking through her shirt helped bring him back.

  “Katie, I think I should take a look at that cut on your shoulder. I used to work as an EMT a few years back. From the look of that blood on your shirt, I’d say you probably need stitches.”

  Blake was concerned that Katie was in shock; she hadn’t mentioned her arm bothering her at all, but it had to be throbbing. She merely sat staring off into the unknown.

  Katie shook her head and backed away. It was clear that she had no intention of letting him touch her. But Blake knew there was no other way and by the amount of blood soaking through her sleeve, she needed attention soon.

  “Look at that window, do you think anyone else is going to stitch you up? You were out there, nobody can get through.”

  “Fine.” She said reluctantly.

  “Okay, take off your shirt.”

  “What? You’re insane,” Katie said, as she stood up, ready to take Micah from Blake’s arms and walk her way to find someone else, anyone else to do the job, even if they had to trample through the forest of fallen trees.

  “Come on woman, we’re both adults here. Do you really think I’d try something with you in this condition? I’m not that desperate. Your sho
ulder needs attention, you wouldn’t be complaining if you were at the urgent care stripping in front of a man there.”

  “I know,” said Katie, “but you are not the urgent care. I’d bleed to death before trusting you.”

  Blake walked out of the room, took the little girl to the master bed and laid her down.

  When Katie stood up to follow Blake, she looked at the sleeve of her right arm, and stumbled back, light headed. The grey sleeve was now almost all red.

  “Can’t you just put a butterfly bandage on it until I can see a real doctor?” Katie asked aloud as she fumbled at the tear in the cotton tee. She pulled up the fabric slightly and got a glimpse of the cut. The sight of the wound made her need to sit down in order to catch her breath and keep from fainting.

  “Fine. You win,” Katie said. There was no urgent care alternative, so Blake would have to suffice.

  While he was out of the room, Katie went ahead and took off her shirt and sat waiting in her floral Victoria’s Secret bra for Blake to return. She held the bloodied shirt close up against her front, attempting to shield at least a small amount of her dignity.

  When Blake came into the room, he was both surprised and relieved to find Katie sitting on his couch ready and waiting for his first aid. He truly felt sorry for her, and the sight before him caused his heart to soften all the more. Though he really was attracted to her, he diverted his attention by going in search of the items he would need in order to clean and stitch up her wound.

  His house was a wreck; nothing was in the right place. It didn’t surprise either one of them that it took a while for him to gather up the items needed for assisting Katie.

  Blake cleaned up the blood on her arm, while Katie kept her eyes averted from the wound. There was enough blood-loss that Katie’s body began to shake from shock, and reasonably so considering the circumstances. Blake told her the wound looked to be about the size of his thumb but since it appeared to be a clean cut, it would be pretty easy for him to stitch up.

  Blake handed her a red plastic bottle, “I have some pain killers if you want to take one. I wish I could numb the area but I don’t carry those kinds of tools with me anymore. I have some liquor left over from last night if you want to take a shot? It won’t really ease the pain but it might help take the edge off.”

  Katie remembered the last time she had taken painkillers—it was the only time her addiction to running caused a hiccup in her life. But how was she supposed to rest when she had a race day coming up? She remembered the injury as if it was yesterday. The painkillers had only made matters worse. It was bad enough being put on bed rest from all exercise, but to be banned to the bathroom with nausea and diarrhea? It wasn’t a pretty sight.

  “No painkillers, they always tear up my stomach. I’ll try the liquor, though. Got any tequila?”

  Blake smiled. “Always. Be right back.”

  Blake instructed Katie to hold gauze over the laceration while he went to grab the pain lubricant of choice. He wondered what was going on in her head. Is she giving herself a pep talk? Is she freaking out? Katie seemed so immature to him and yet strong, a single mother and widow, she had to be braver than she looked.

  Blake brought back a bottle of Don Julio, his favorite tequila and two shot glasses. “One for you,” he said as he poured the gold tinted liquid all the way to the top and handed it to Katie. She trembled a little as she held it.

  “I’ve never had any alcohol before, other than wine and champagne on my honeymoon. Always wanted to try tequila. First time for everything, right? Will it burn?” Katie glanced up at Blake with questioning eyes.

  “Not any more than this,” he said, holding up a needle.

  Katie only hesitated briefly before chugging back the shot. Her eyes squinted tight and her body trembled for a moment. Blake watched and smiled when it was obvious the liquid had made its way down.

  “And one for me afterward,” Blake said filling the other glass for himself.

  Katie held onto the shot glass as Blake took out the needle and prepared for sewing. Blake reminded her not to hold her breath or tense up because it actually made the pain worsen and his job harder. “Just breathe and I’ll try my best to be done quickly.”

  Katie couldn’t help but tense up when the needle was inserted into her arm. Blake could tell that she tried to hold back tears but eventually she lost the battle. Sweat was beading up on her nose and tears silently crawled down her face.

  Blake hoped for her sake that it wouldn’t take much longer since he knew the pain must be extreme.

  “Almost done. Hang in there just a bit longer, OK? Think of it as if you’re getting your first tattoo.”

  “Hardly,” Katie replied, “I know full well that tattoo’s are way less painful than this.”

  “Oh, really? So Katie Baker has a tattoo.” Blake smiled as he attempted to keep her thoughts distracted.

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes, my husband and I had gone together and gotten small matching script on our honeymoon: the word ‘forever’. I regret it. I didn’t get his name because a friend had told me that it’s bad luck. I guess that goes with other words too. We didn’t get our forever.”

  Blake fell silent at her response and finished up. “All done with the stitching, I’m putting some ointment on it now and want you to keep it covered. Got it?” Blake stuck a big bandage over the wound and picked up his shot of Patron. He chugged it back as Katie slowly started to put her shirt back on.

  “Your shirt is covered in blood, I’ve got a t-shirt that you can use instead,” Blake offered.

  Blake watched as Katie seemed to debate it for a brief moment, but changed her mind, she shook her head and finished carefully putting her arm through the bloodied sleeve.

  “I’m fine in this. You’ve already helped us enough.” She replied.

  Blake was perplexed. What was it about him that disgusted her so much she’d rather put on a dirty, blood-covered shirt than a clean one of his?

  “Hey, can I use your cell phone?” Katie asked, pointing to Blake’s smartphone that was sitting on the floor in front of the couch.

  “I usually keep mine in my back pocket but for some reason I had just pulled it out and put it in the center console of the car before . . . well, before I left Kansas for Oz.”

  Blake smiled, handed the phone to Katie and watched as she attempted to make a call, but received no answer. Katie then tried to call someone else but with the same end result.

  “I tried calling a few of my friends, too, but got busy signals, I’m guessing the cell towers are overwhelmed with everyone trying to make contact. Maybe we’ll have better luck in the morning,” Blake tried to give her some comfort.

  “We don’t have any power but I’ve got a generator I can hook up that should give us lights and a few other things. I don’t know how long it’ll last, but I’ll work on getting it up and running in the morning. In the meantime, your daughter is already asleep in my bed, I think that you guys should stay here.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks. We can’t stay here. I’m NOT going to stay here,” Katie protested.

  “Listen. The roads are blocked; neither of us can get out, we can’t go anywhere. Where do you suggest you and your daughter spend the night?”

  Katie glanced out the window and back at Blake. He was her only option, and no matter how much Katie wanted to change that fact, she couldn’t. Blake waited while she realized all this for herself. She was just going to have to accept that for tonight, they’d be sleeping here in his house.

  “I guess it’s fine, just for tonight. Surely by morning we can get out of here.”

  Blake quickly realized he was logical and she wasn’t. You would assume a single mother would be strong and more mature, but Katie was stubborn. He didn’t see Katie going anywhere for a while. No car, no
house, and as far as he understood, no other option.

  “I just realized, I don’t know your daughter’s name.”

  Katie looked up at him in confusion, as if not understanding what it was that he was asking. “Huh?”

  “Your daughter. I don’t know her name.”

  “Micah. Her name is Micah. She has her father’s name.” After Katie answered the question she collapsed on the couch, as if the reply took her remaining energy, she lay stretched out amidst the cushions.

  Blake stood watching Katie’s every move. She was very much a mystery to him. This beautiful young woman who was lying on his couch, seemed to be so strong one moment and yet so weak in others. He wondered what her story was. What adventures had she endured before this one? He hoped that perhaps he would glean more insight to some of her stories in the morning.

  After Blake went to put away the Don Julio and get rid of the bloodied towels, he returned to find Katie completely asleep. He pondered what to do. He couldn’t just leave her lying on top of the disheveled couch cushions. He knew any gentleman would carry her to the bed so he decided that was what he would do. He gently picked her up and carried her to his bedroom, where he had already lay Micah down. He knew it would be the most comfortable spot for her.

  He wished Katie had taken him up on the t-shirt. She would’ve been more comfortable and dry before falling asleep. He ignored the idea of waking her and convincing her to change. Blake didn’t want to deal with her sarcastic remarks, so he voted to leave her alone and let her sleep as she was, in the wet and sticky bloodstained top.

  Just as Blake was pulling up the blanket that lay across the end of the bed he noticed Katie’s jeans had what appeared to be bloodstains mixed with red clay on her right pant leg. She hadn’t said anything about another injury. He tried to recount the events that happened and was sure he didn’t miss her mentioning it. He began to panic and wondered if she had another gaping wound. Blake decided he had to take a closer look at that leg.