On A Night Like This

Chapter Seven

-Jayce-

The next morning, it snowed on and off. Dylan seemed constantly busy, rearranging things and counting food and other supplies, and Jayce started to feel useless. He was also bored out of his mind.

"Can I do something to help?"

Dylan stopped what he was doing and looked around the cabin. "I'm low on firewood. If you want to split some, the axe is on the wall by the door."

He glanced over near the door. He didn't know the first thing about splitting wood, but he didn't want to tell Dylan that. He didn't want to be any more useless than he already was or get another lecture about how he was a clueless hiker and should never have been out here.

He took the axe off the hook and went outside. There were plenty of logs behind the cabin. He wasn't sure how they all got there in the first place, but they were too big to put in the stove. He selected one of the logs and rolled it away from the others. Once it was set up on the ground, he stared at it. What was the best way to go about this? He studied the axe and decided he was probably overthinking it. All he needed to do was swing it down and hit the log.

His first attempt resulted in him hitting the log and getting the axe stuck about one inch into the log. He put his foot on the edge of the log and tried to pull the axe out. When it finally budged, he stumbled backwards, almost falling.

Okay, maybe this wasn't so easy.

Focusing on the log again, he tried to hit the same spot as before. He missed by an inch and only succeeded in making another crack in the top of the log. After ten minutes of trying, he finally had the axe buried about halfway down the log with enough space to stick his hand in between the gap. This was going to take forever. He clearly wasn't cut out for this.

Frustrated, he put one hand on the edge of the split part to brace himself, and then yanked the axe out. But when he did, his hand slipped. He yelped as he felt a searing pain in his left hand. He dropped the axe and held his injured hand to his chest, protecting it with his other hand.

It must have been loud enough for Dylan to hear, because he came running outside. "What happened?"

"My hand slipped," he said, trying to blink back the tears stinging his eyes.

"Let me see." Dylan pulled his hands away from his chest, grabbing him roughly by the wrist.

A huge splinter of wood had pierced the skin on the outside edge of his palm. The splinter entered at the bottom of his palm, just above his wrist, and the tip of the splinter was sticking out up near his pinky, having gone all the way through. He turned his head away, not wanting to look at it. His hand was already beginning to throb.

"At least it wasn't the axe," Dylan said. "Come on."

He followed Dylan into the cabin and sat on the bed, holding his injured hand awkwardly in the air as Dylan opened a cabinet and got out a first aid kit. Dylan bustled around the kitchen, starting to heat some water and getting a clean white washcloth out of a container in the back of one of the cabinets.

When Dylan sat down with all the stuff, including a bowl of the hot water, he took Jayce's hand and examined it, gently turning it over to get a better look at the splinter. Blood was starting to pool around the entry point and drip down onto his wrist.

Dylan sighed. "There's no good way for me to get it out other than pulling it straight out. It's going to hurt."

Nervous, he swallowed hard. "Okay."

"I'm worried about causing more damage when I pull it out. You could end up with smaller splinters breaking off and getting stuck in your hand. They'll be absorbed by the body eventually, but there's a risk of infection that we'll have to -"

"Dylan, just do it. You're not making this any better."

Dylan nodded. "You might want to look away."

He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head. He wasn't ready for this, but he felt Dylan's hand on his and a stab of pain as Dylan grasped the end of the splinter. He braced himself and tried to think of something else as a distraction.

It didn't help. He wished Dylan would have yanked the splinter out in a second, but he supposed that could have made things worse. He tried to be quiet during the agonizing few seconds it took for the splinter to be removed, but a whimper escaped his lips.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," Dylan said quickly, sounding almost as distressed as he felt. "It's out now."

He held his hand to his chest and rocked back and forth a few times, trying to breathe through the pain. His hand continued to throb.

When he regained his composure, Dylan took his hand again. "We still need to clean it out. I'll try to be gentle, but this isn't going to feel good either."

Dylan submerged his hand in the bowl of water, and he hissed as the wound stung. The water turned a light red, and he felt sick looking at it, so he looked away. He kept his eyes closed as Dylan washed his hand and disinfected it. When he thought it was safe to open his eyes, he watched as Dylan wrapped a bandage around his hand, taking care to make sure it wasn't too tight. For someone Dylan's size, he could be quite gentle when he wanted to.

"Thanks," he said, looking down at his bandaged hand.

Dylan leaned back in the chair. "You've never split wood before, have you?"

He managed a half smile. "What tipped you off? The fact that it took ten minutes for me to get halfway through one log?"

Dylan shook his head. "I should have known better. If you haven't spent much time outdoors, of course you wouldn't have done this before. I should have shown you what to do."

"It's not your fault I'm useless."

"Just because you don't know anything about the outdoors doesn't mean you're useless. You haven't been exposed to this stuff until now, so you're not going to be a natural at it." Dylan's voice grew softer. "You shouldn't say you're useless."

"And you shouldn't keep thinking everything is your fault. My mistakes are my own."

"I'll stop feeling responsible if you stop putting yourself down."

Jayce's shoulders drooped. "Yeah, I guess that is a bad habit of mine."

"Why?"

"I know I'm just average. Most people forget about me. The guys I date get bored with me and tell me they don't see it going anywhere. I don't stand out at work. Even my family doesn't care. My older brother is married with two kids and my parents give him all their attention, probably because he's doing things the right way. They weren't happy when I came out, and even though they said they still love me, it doesn't seem like it. We haven't been as close since, and last year they forgot to send me a Christmas card."

He realized he had just said all that to Dylan, who was still sitting quietly beside him. "Sorry," he muttered. "You don't need to know all of that."

To his surprise, Dylan put a hand on his arm and squeezed. "Don't be sorry. And they're all wrong. I don't think you're average or forgettable. It was brave, although stupid, to come out to the mountains on a whim. You didn't know anything, but you tried anyway. Same with the axe out there. You're determined and that counts for a lot."

He was caught off guard by Dylan's kind words. A pep talk was the last thing he'd expected from this grumpy, quiet man. "Hey, I think this is the most you've said since I got here."

Dylan's cheeks turned pink, and just like that, he shut down again. Without saying a word, he began gathering up the first aid supplies and the bowl of water. When Dylan opened the door to take the bowl of water outside to dispose of it, Jayce spoke up. "Thank you. For taking care of my hand and for what you said. I appreciate it."

Dylan paused for a split second, and then continued outside, closing the door behind him. Jayce slumped down onto the bed. He liked the kind, gentle man Dylan had been for those few minutes, and he didn't understand what made Dylan act so standoffish when he was capable of being friendlier. It felt like one step forward and two steps back.