Voices at Whisper Bend by Katherine Ayres Page B

Charlotte, staring at the shirt. Blood was soaking through. Robbie’s blood. The muscles in Charlotte’s legs went soft and she swayed. Betsy grabbed hold of her and put an arm around her waist.
    â€œLead the way.” Paul picked up Robbie. “We’ll make better time if I carry you,” he said. “And you can holler if you want. I sure would.”
    â€œFive stitches.” Robbie waved a white gauze hand under Charlotte’s nose.
    She ducked back. It looked like a mummy’s hand from a creepy movie.
    â€œIt’s neat,” he bragged. “I’d show you, but they wrapped my hand up so you can’t see.”
    â€œI … I’ll see it later. Can we go home now?”
    â€œDid they give you a tetanus shot?” Paul asked. “Last time I got sewed up, they poked me with a needle big enough for a horse.”
    â€œRight here.” Robbie pointed to his left arm. “I told them to save the shot for a soldier, but they said they had plenty.”
    Beside her, Betsy shivered. “I hate shots.”
    â€œMe too.” Charlotte studied Robbie’s face. He was grinning, but his skin looked pale. “Can you make it home?”
    â€œI’m no baby.”
    â€œI’ll come too,” Paul offered.
    Charlotte shook her head. “Thanks, but …”
    â€œNo trouble. Those shots can make you pretty woozy.”
    A nurse gave Charlotte a sheet of instructions for Ma and explained how to clean and wrap Robbie’s hand. He’d need to come back in a few days so they could take out his stitches.
    They walked home slowly. At every corner, Paul made Robbie stop and sit down on somebody’s steps and rest before starting the next block. Charlotte wanted to hurry home so she could wash the blood off her hands and clothes, but Paul seemed to know what he was doing.
    When they finally got home, Robbie flopped onto the sofa. Charlotte headed into the kitchen to wash up, and Betsy followed her.
    â€œRobbie’s pretty pale,” Betsy began. “You don’t look so good either, Charlotte. You want me to get my mother?”
    Charlotte checked the kitchen clock as she scrubbed the blood off her hands. Ma would be home soon, and they’d have some explaining to do. She shook her head. “Thanks, Bets, but we’ll be okay.”
    Betsy left by the kitchen door. Charlotte dried her hands and slipped into the living room in time to see Paul stick a pillow under Robbie’s arm. “Keep it high,” he said. “Won’t hurt so much.”
    â€œHow do you know all this stuff?” Charlotte asked.
    Paul seemed startled to see her. “Me and my brothers, we’ve been stitched some. No big deal.”
    Suddenly it was a big deal to Charlotte. She’d accused Paul Rossi of stealing, and then he’d turned around and taken care of Robbie. He’d behaved real nice, too, not tough like he acted at school.
    â€œI’m sorry,” she began. Her cheeks burned, but she refused to let that stop her. “What I said in school. I was wrong. You’re not a bad guy, a thief.”
    Paul shrugged. “Don’t make a fuss, Charlotte. At school now, with everybody accusing people … Well, when I think about my brothers off fighting, it makes all this seem cheap.”
    â€œYou’re not mad at me?”
    â€œI was. But geez. Your folks will light into both of you tonight. That’s enough for one day.” He slapped Robbie on the shoulder and stuck out his hand to Charlotte. “Pals? I’ll help you haul stuff to school if you want, since he’s on the wounded list.”
    Charlotte shook his hand. “Thanks.” As he left, she stared after him. Who’d have thought she’d ever be pals with Paul Rossi? Or that he could be nice?
    Half an hour later, Ma came home. After she checked Robbie’s hand and made sure he was okay, she glared. “No more collecting metal for you,