With darkness quickly
descending and all of their possessions—with the exception of Einar’s main
chute and the cargo bag Kiesl had packed them—gathered together beneath the
trees, Einar and Liz were anxious to get settled for the night while they still
had a bit of light to aid them. The
chosen spot was nothing particularly special, the spreading branches of what
even in the encroaching dimness Einar could not help but recognize as a
ponderosa pine providing shelter from the air should snow come, ground beneath
largely free of snow. Seemed odd that
there would be so little snow. Already
he had determined that they were at an elevation somewhat lower than the one at
their cabin in the basin; oak brush such as the stuff which had stopped his
tumble simply didn’t grow up that high.
It bothered him not knowing exactly where they were. Kisel had provided them with maps, had said he
was doing so, at least, but those maps, along with everything else that had
been sent along, were tucked securely away in the cargo bag that had landed
who-knew-exactly-where… A job for
morning. In the meantime, he would
simply have to speculate.
While Liz busied about
cutting branches for an improvised mattress Einar spread her parachute flat on the
sheltered spot beneath the tree, cutting one line and using it to suspend the
center of the canopy from a sweeping branch, creating a low tent which would
keep out a certain amount of moisture should it fall, but more importantly would
help retain some of the heat of breath and body which otherwise would have dissipated
out into the night. This done, he
similarly secured several points around the edges, tying these to rocks or sticks
which he jammed into the ground, meaning to create something of a
windbreak.
Movement was becoming more
difficult for him as time passed, leg stiffening up and entire body beginning
to feel the effects of his tumble.
Wanting first to finish preparing a secure shelter for the night he had
not yet in any detail assessed his injuries, knew the leg was likely to be
hassle for a while and only hoped he hadn’t broken or otherwise seriously
injured it. Prospects weren’t looking
great, in that regard. Doggone thing
wouldn’t support his weight. Well. No sense letting Liz worry too much about it,
not yet, so he sat back down in a hurry, finishing his work from the ground.
Will had been sitting, while
this work went on, atop the piled material of Einar’s reserve chute, happily rummaging
about as he tried to trace the origin of one of the lines, determined to follow
it to its conclusion and protesting loudly when Liz, returning with arms full
of soft, sweetly-scented fir boughs, had to move him so she could make the bed. Wanting to quiet the child, Einar picked him
up.
“What? You set on packing that thing for the next
jump, is that what it is? Looked to me
like you really enjoyed your first one, didn’t you?”
“He sure seemed to,” Liz took
the little one, depositing him on the freshly-arranged mattress of fir. “Do you know that he didn’t even cry on the
way down? Not one bit.”
“Maybe he was too startled to
make a sound, all that air rushing past him!”
“No, I don’t think that was
it. He seemed to like it. We got down and he
was just laughing and grinning like you wouldn’t have believed. That doesn’t seem normal, does it? That he wouldn’t be afraid?”
Einar really did laugh then,
breathing right past the hurt in his leg for the first time since landing and letting
himself go at the hilarity of attempting to define what might be “normal,” in a
situation like theirs… “Sure it’s
normal! He’s an active little boy just
out discovering the world. Sight of the
ground rushing up at you at a hundred miles an hour is just way too fascinating
to leave room for being afraid.”
“Is that what happened to
you?”
“What?”
“On the way down today. Something happened…”
“Nothing happened. Little bit of a rough landing, that’s all.”
Liz knew that wasn’t all, but
saw no purpose in pressing him to answer, turned her attention instead to arranging
the folds and billows of the reserve chute into something resembling a sleeping
bag. The stuff was thin but, when
layered, fairly warm, and she knew they should be alright for the night between
the fir mattress, their ski suits and the folds of cloth.
“Let me see your leg now?”
“Too dark to see much.”
“If there’s a lot of swelling, you might risk frostbite
tonight if we don’t get your boot off and take care of things. We’ve got a little light left. Here, let’s get it done.”
Einar nodded, began unlacing
his boot. “Yeah. Lot of swelling. Just twisted something, I’m hoping.”
“Twisted something? Having
watched you hit the ground, I would think that’s got to be quite the
understatement! Ok, be still and let me
have a better look.”
Einar was still, holding
himself rigid against the hurt as Liz gently poked and probed at the puffy purple-black
mess to which his right leg had been reduced, but after a while he tired of the
time she was taking—and the effort required of him to keep from reacting in
ways which might have been unfortunate—and he took the leg in his own hands,
feeling for any break or deformity which might explain the swelling. Didn’t find anything, and finally had to
start breathing again lest he risk passing out, inconclusive, he supposed, but
if there was a break, it was causing no noticeable deformity. Nothing to set or splint, really. Maybe things would be better in the morning,
once the swelling had been allowed a chance to go down. Had to hope so, as he needed to be on his
feet and mobile in the morning to go out looking for their missing items. Liz suggested icing the area with some snow
wrapped in a bit of parachute material and Einar figured it was worth a try,
but she wouldn’t let him do it until he’d got all settled with them beneath the
blanket—the plan, though she didn’t say so, being to prevent his deciding that abandoning
the bed and spending the night sitting in the snow would be a far more
efficient means of bringing down the swelling.
An hour later, leg throbbing a
good deal less and everything quiet beneath the trees that sheltered them for
the night, Einar lay staring up at the stars where they pierced hard and
unblinking through the boughs of their ponderosa, Liz breathing quietly beside
him and Will giggling softly in his sleep, dreaming, perhaps, of the delight of
falling free through the air, and with that thought Einar joined them in
slumber.
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