*
The following morning, I was in agony. My foot was throbbing. I took off my shoe and sock to have a look. It was not pretty. Yellow puss and blood seeped from an oval wound about the size of a walnut shell. Vart took a close look, sniffing and grumbling. He clearly blamed me for my ill fortune.
‘What are you grumbling at?’ I yelled petulantly. ‘It’s not my bloody fault.’
Grabbing my smelly sock and shoe he waved them in my face as though telling me they were the cause of my trouble. ‘Tupdra, tupdra,’ he cried angrily.
Did that mean trainers? I wondered briefly. Obviously not, especially as he kept pointing to his head and pulling loony faces. It didn’t take genius to work out that tupdra meant stupid.
‘Ty tupdra,’ I yelled back at him, hoping I was saying, stupid yourself.
It seems to have worked. He dropped the shoe and sock, grabbed his spear, and stomped off down the hill. I thought he was leaving me, and again suffered pangs of panic until I saw his bed place still had his belongings on it. I realised he had gone on some errand that did not require my presence.
The sun was well above the trees by the time he returned with a couple of large plants. I recognised Betony, with roots and all. ‘I thought you’d gone,’ I told him, by way of apology. Though in truth I felt I had little to apologise for.
He refused to meet my eyes and flopped onto on his bed place. I watched him fish around inside his bags and bring out an apple sized dished stone. He began pounding the betony leaves and roots on it with another pebble. After a while he tossed a gob of plant pulp to me and gestured that I should apply it to my oozing blister. Stealing myself, I first squeezed the wound as hard as I could and scraped it out with my thumb nail. It was agony. I wondered if I would ever walk on it again. It was now a hole, oozing fluid, but looked less revolting. I slapped the betony pulp on it and Vart bound it quickly with the remaining leaves then secured it with a cord of woven nettle stalks. It felt a million times better and I relaxed blissfully on my bed.
Vart grinned, nodding his shaggy red head.
I knew we were pals again.
Time Rocks Page 17
