“Oh sweet Katelyn, he’s gluing your head,” Kevin said, laughing like it was the most hysterical thing he had ever heard.
“Can you use it on his mouth?” I asked Old Man Wither sweetly.
“Sure can,” he winked, advancing on Kevin who slapped his hands over his mouth as his body shook with suppressed laughter.
Mr. Wither chuckled, turning back to me. “Okay, looks good. I guess it’s a blessing your water is out since you need to keep the injury relatively dry. Why don’t you go take a look at it?”
“Okay,” I said, heading for the bathroom.
Entering the small, surprisingly clean gas station bathroom, I flipped the light switch, making the fluorescent bulbs hum above my head. I relieved my bladder before turning to the mirror to study Old Man Wither’s handiwork. Parting my hair, I studied the wound critically and could see why he had suggested stitches. The cut was easily over an inch long. The glue gave it a grotesque appearance, but I was grateful he was able to close it up without making a fuss about it needing stitches.
Once I was satisfied my wound couldn’t be seen, I dipped my fingers in the warm tap water and combed them through my hair trying to remove the last traces of dried blood. It was tedious work, but finally after several minutes, I was satisfied that the majority of it was gone. I stripped my jacket and hoodie off and stood shivering in the bathroom as I used the washcloth I had brought along to wash my face, arms and neck. Feeling slightly cleaner, I pulled my jacket back on to ward off the chills and brushed my teeth vigorously before returning all my items back to the toiletry bag.
“Hey, Kevin, come brush your teeth,” I said, opening the bathroom door only to discover Kevin in the middle of munching on a hotdog.
“Look at what Mr. Wither gave me,” he said between bites.
“That’s great, bud, now hurry and eat it so you can brush your teeth.”
“Done,” he said, finishing off the last bite in one gulp. He snagged the bag from my hand before trotting happily off to the bathroom, leaving Mr. Wither and me alone.
“Um, thanks for giving him a hotdog. I’ll pay you as soon as we have the money,” I said, flushing in embarrassment.
He held up his hand to stop my tirade. “It’s my treat,” he said as I tried to protest. “Now you listen here, since my dear Marge decided it was time to meet our maker, I haven’t had a single moment as entertaining as the one I spent with you young’ns this morning. My Marge and I were never blessed with kids, but I would like to hope if we had been, they would have been like you two.”
“What makes you say that?” I asked curiously.
“Let’s just say I can tell about people, and my door here is always open if you and your brother there need anything. Got me? Lord knows I can always use the company if you ever want to chat.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
He patted my shoulder. “Trust me when I say this is just a small part of your life, so you keep your chin up,” he said, offering words of wisdom.
“I know,” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat. “We better head out,” I added as Kevin joined me.
“Ready to brave the elements again, bud?” I said as I zipped up Kevin’s jacket.
“Not really,” Kevin answered, grimacing as the wind continued to swirl outside.
The trek to the store was tougher than the one to the gas station since we had to cross the icy roads twice to get to the far corner. We both sighed with pleasure when we stumbled inside the store, allowing the warmth to defrost our frozen bodies. My sighs of relief were cut short when I spotted Max chatting with his father near the registers.
Ours eyes met as he hungrily took in my appearance. I slid my hoodie up over my head self-consciously, worried that my hair wasn’t properly covering my injury. After a moment, I finally pulled my eyes away, dragging Kevin along on our hunt for a plunger. After finding what we needed, I took a deep breath, preparing myself for what would be a long awkward walk up to the nearly-deserted front area of the store. As my rotten luck would have it, Kevin and I were the only customers here. Obviously, no one else in town was foolish enough to venture outside with conditions so dismal.
Max’s dad scanned the plunger through while Max bagged it for us.
“Plumbing problems?” his dad asked conversationally.
“Pipes are frozen,” Kevin piped in.
“That sucks,” Max said as I handed a five over to his dad.
“Yeah, it does. We…” Kevin started to say as I clamped a hand down on his shoulder before he could embarrass me further.
“Dad, you think Harold could go take a look at it?” Max asked as he handed me my bag.
“Not until the weather warms up a bit.”
“That’s okay, I’m sure the owner has someone he can send out,” I said, edging toward the door.