Sheklov was framing his next question when Lora spoke up again unexpectedly. She said, “Say-uh-Magda! Does Danty have any kind of talent? I kind of wondered when . . . . Did he tell you how we met? He saved my lifel”
Sheklov rounded on her in astonishment. There was something so brittle and superficial about this girl, hearing her utter a statement like that jolted him.
But Magda was nodding as though it was perfectly natural to say such things. “Oh, that Danty!” she said, in a tone that cross-bred cynicism with affection. “He has a talent, sure has. Know what he always says about himself?”
Lora shook her head, her eyes hungry.
“Ever read The Sword in the Stone? Yes? Remember Merlin the magician?”
“Yes, of coursel”
“Well, Danty always says he’s in the same mess, born at the wrong end of time. You see, he-”
There came a scratching at the door, the sound of a key being fumbled into the lock. She broke off and swung around to face that way. So did the others. The door flew wide.
Danty stood there, swaying drunkenly, lips drawn back in a grimace of pain, eyes almost closed, a crusting cut on his forehead, and a great blood-gushing slash on his left arm that now, letting fall his key, he struggled again to staunch with his red right hand.
“Help me,” he whispered faintly, and fell headlong.
Lora screamed.
Galvanised by the sound, Sheklov leapt from his chair. He slapped the door shut at the full reach of his arm and dropped to his knees beside Danty.
“Shut up!” he rasped at Lora. “Go find a phone, call a doctor! Magda, help me get him on the couchl We’ll need ice-scissors-bandages-”
Coolly she undercut him, bending over his shoulder to inspect Danty’s wound. “I did train as a nurse, remember?” she murmured. And put one hand accurately on a pressure-point that reduced the surging leakage of blood to an ooze.
“Oh. Yes, of course. Sorry.” Sheklov rose. too?”
“And you?” she pursued. “Are you trained in medicine,
What have 1 said now? Sheklov’s mind raced. But almost , at once he hit on a good reason for Holtzer to know firstaid.
“Hell, of course! Do you have any idea how many lumbermen lose arms and legs to power-saws every year? Must be hundredsl”
“Good, then.” Magda said. “Lora, bring ice-cubes, will you? And you’ll find a box in the corner of the kitchen- 3 top shelf-marked with a red cross. I’ll need that.”
“What about calling a doctor?” Sheklov snapped. “Don’t you have a phone?”
Magda gave him a steady look. “Think I can afford indemnity insurance?”
.. fit?” .j
“It’s very clear you’re not American! You want a doctor who makes house-calls, you have to pay insurance against his being mugged or robbed on the way to you. In Cowville the going rate’s a thousand a month.” She added after a moment, “Anyway, Danty’s black. and no white doctor would treat him, and I wouldn’t dare call a black one. Help me lift him to that couch-no, just a moment, I’ll put a sheet on it.”
He left a bloody trail on the floor.
After that Sheklov reacted mechanically as Magda efficiently cut away Danty’s sleeve, wiped the knife-woundthat was what it had to be, an inch wide and more than that deep-and sprayed it in turn with an analgesic, an -antibiotic powder, and finally with a clear solution from an aerosol can. Reading the label on this last before Lora dutifully returned it to the first-aid kit, Sheklov learned that it was intended to create a film impervious to airborne infection that would contract as it dried and draw the edges of a cut together, obviating the need to insert stitches.
Hmm! That would be useful at home! A fine invention)
On the other hand, he wouldn’t care to live in a society that found it necessary to include such a product in a home first-aid kit . . .
Then the final touches: rinsing of Danty’s face-his cut forehead was minor, hardly more than a scratch, although his eyes would be puffy for a day or two, Magda predicted-and the job of clearing up, which Lora undertook silently, despite her faintly green cheeks and look of incipient nausea. Magda complimented her a couple of times on being so helpful, and she flashed smiles of gratitude in response.