Farts Like Gold: 2 -- Brendan

"What happened to it?" She asked. "Let me see."

I turned the key on the quad. The headlight came on and I stuck my hand in front of it. Lucy touched my hand and I yelped. It was scraped up top and bottom and starting to swell. I was pretty sure it hadn't been quite the same shape before. There was a brand new knobbly bit in the back of my hand.

"I think it might be broken."

"It's probably all right," I said. "Let's get back to camp and I'll put some ice on it. Check it out in the morning."

Lucy took my hand again and I flinched.

"Come on. Get on the quad. We should get going."

Lucy climbed on to the quad. "How do I get it into reverse?"

"Hold this button in, now pull the brake and kick the gearshift down."

I stepped around to the front of the quad. I grabbed the frame with my left hand. I braced my right forearm against the front rack and heaved. Lucy gave it a bit of gas. The quad lurched backwards a bit, climbed over boulder and then the front dropped down on the other side. I followed and tripped over the boulder just as the quad's front wheels hit the ground and wrenched the handlebars from Lucy's grasp. I swung my right arm out of the way to save my hand and fell headfirst into the left handlebar as it swung around.

I was already in so much pain now that I didn't bother swearing. I just sat on the boulder and held my right forearm against my head where it been thwacked by the handlebar.

"Sorry about that," said Lucy. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Not your fault."

Lucy grabbed the handlebars again. She backed the quad up and then drove it around the boulder. I got on the back and we made our way very carefully back to the camp. I experimented with various ways of holding my hand as she drove. The least painful seemed to be to hold my arm up at an angle as if I was doing a "heil Hitler" salute. This let my body provide the greatest amount of shock absorption as we drove.

It was after midnight when we got back to camp. With the generator shut off for the night, anyone who was awake would have heard us coming for the last couple of miles. There was a light glowing from the back of the dining attached to the cookbus.

Lucy got off the quad first. "Are you going to be okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, no problems. We'll see what it's like in the morning."

"Maybe you should get Brendan to check your hand." She shrugged her shoulders towards the light in the dining tent.

"Probably not much he can do," I said. "But okay."

We ducked under the tent flap alongside the bus and entered the dining tent behind the breakfast table. Sure enough, Brendan was still up and so was Cassandra. They sat at the table at the back where the foreman and other staff always sat. That table was a bit like Brendan and Joe's office. The only thing to mark it out particularly was a couple of coolers filled with paperwork underneath. Sometimes April put flowers on it for them.

There was a bottle of Golden Wedding on the table and a carton of apple juice. Brendan and Cassandra were both drinking from melmac mugs. Cassandra was smoking a cigarette. The light came from two citronella candles at either end of the table.

"How was Vegas?" asked Cassandra.

"Grab a couple of mugs if you want a drink!" said Brendan, a little too loudly.

I stopped and picked up a couple of mugs, sticking the first and pinky fingers of my left hand through the handles.

"Kent broke his hand."

"Maybe," I said. I put the mugs on the table with my left hand and put my right hand on the table near one of the candles.

Brendan put his face near my hand. "I can't see fuck all, but that sucker's huge. Are you sure you're not wearing a baseball glove?"

Cassandra poured a slug of Golden Wedding into each of our cups and added some apple juice. She got up and headed towards the cookbus. "I'll go get a flashlight and some peas," she said.

Brendan touched me lightly on the wrist. "That hurt?" he asked.

"No."

"Let me know when it does." He ran his finger lightly along the back of my hand towards the new knobbly bit.

"Jesus Fuck!" I said and yanked my hand away from him.

Brendan grabbed my mug and poured it into his own. "No booze for you," he said.

"Why not?"

"I'm too drunk to drive, and we're taking you into town." He suddenly sat up straight. "Wait a minute! How's the quad? Did you wreck my fucking quad?"

"The quad's fine," said Lucy. "It's just Kent that's broken."

"Oh, okay then." He took a swig of whiskey. "I swear by the sweet brown starfish of the Virgin Mary that if you'd wrecked that quad... Anyway, everything's all right."

Cassandra returned with a flashlight and a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a tea towel. She shone the flashlight on my hand. It was about twice the size of my other hand. There was a definite knobble in the back of it, a bit like an extra knuckle where there shouldn't be one. "The peas should keep the swelling down," she said. "Are you going to try to set it?"

Brendan and I both looked at her.

"Maybe not."

"Well, if we're going into town we need a plan. Lucy, tomorrow morning can you explain things to Joe and tell him I'll be back before dinner. Maybe you could help him haul trees."

"I don't mind helping out, but last night was only the second time I've driven a quad."

"In that case, I'm making you checker. Ah fuck it. Joe can work it out." Brendan drained his mug and got to his feet. He had a little trouble getting his legs around the bench but seemed to balance okay. "Let's go load up the truck. Cassandra, I'll phone you tomorrow after breakfast to see if you've got anything you want me to pick up."

"No problems. I can give you a list now if you want?"

"No. Tomorrow's better. I'm sure you'll come up with some more stuff by the morning."

"Well, just make sure you get some smokes and some fruit. I'm going to bed. Have fun."

Lucy helped Brendan and I load up the truck with empty propane cans, gas barrels and garbage. She walked with me to my tent, opened the zipper for me and rummaged around until she found my wallet and some clean socks and undies.

"I'm sorry about the hand," she said. "Can you get me some chocolate and some drum?"

"Will do."

She kissed me and walked off through the dark to her tent. I made my way back to the truck. Brendan was in the back checking that the propane cans were tied up securely. He jumped down as I approached. I climbed in the driver's seat and reached across the steering wheel to turn the key with my left hand. Brendan climbed in the passenger seat. I struggled to get the truck in gear with my left hand.

"I don't mind driving," I said, "but you're going to have shift gears."

"No worries. Just wake me when you need me."

I pulled out of camp onto the road and headed for town. It was only about ten miles to the main road which was gravel. After that I only had to nudge Brendan awake a few times for a couple of steep hills and a bridge. We got into Fort St. John around four in the morning.

>> Farts Like Gold: 3