The Movement of the Earth

Surrender

i've seen your flag on the marble arch / our love is not a victory march
k.d. lang, "Hallelujah"

14: Surrender

After several more hours of observation, the doctors finally determined that I wouldn't need skin grafts. Luckily, my hand hadn't been in the 'bonfire' long enough to completely destroy it; it would heal on its own, but slowly and painfully. My right arm would likely be out of the cast before my left was fully functional again.

When the doctor unwrapped the gauze, I took one look and closed my eyes with a moan. The doctor explained the home treatment to Charlie instead, talking about antibiotics and scarring while I tried to erase the image of my red and white flesh from my mind. Victoria was dead, I reminded myself. Victoria was dead, everyone else was alive, and so it was all worth it.

But it seemed that running with vampires and werewolves really did have its risks.

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We got home from the hospital just as the sun was starting to set. I didn't expect Jacob until after dark, so I settled onto the couch while Charlie got out a pad of paper and started to make lists of what we would be needing for the next several weeks.

"What food can you eat on your own, Bells?" he asked, nodding to my exposed index finger and thumb.

I pinched experimentally. "Not much," I said. "Carrot sticks, maybe. Chicken nuggets. Tortilla chips." My diet would certainly be boring for awhile.

Charlie diligently scribbled. "And I'll pick up lots of straws. Will you eat soup through a straw?"

"If I have to." The idea was sort of repulsive, but it was infinitely better than being spoonfed like an infant.

"Okay. Do you need... uh... what about..." Charlie blushed deeply.

I grimaced. There would be no Alice to help me bathe this time - although now that she was back, I had no doubt she'd offer her services if I requested them. The thought stirred up a mess of convoluted emotions... but I was determined to manage this by myself. Or as by myself as I could. After setting a vampire ablaze, the little things didn't seem so impossible anymore. "Just get me a loofah on a stick, Dad," I said. "I'll figure it out." Dressing would be harder, but I'd figure that out, too.

"A... loofah?"

"Or a sponge," I added hastily at his confused and vaguely terrified expression. "Or one of those net ball thingees. Whatever, as long as it's on a stick."

He relaxed. "Oh, okay."

We finished out the list of supplies together, and then I started to add a list of groceries. "Broccoli. Asparagus. Bean sprouts. Whole grain bread."

"How are you supposed to eat bean sprouts?"

"I'm not eating bean sprouts," I explained. "You are."

He blinked. "Why?"

"Lettuce," I continued, ignoring him. "Ground turkey. Beets."

"Bella, I've never eaten beets and I'm certainly not starting now. I don't even know how to cook beets."

"There are recipes in the cookbooks," I said. "Brown rice. Radishes. And I want you to go through the freezer and throw away all the pork chops and bacon. The fish can stay."

Charlie paused, then gave me a long, serious look. "Bells," he said gently, "Harry always had a weak heart."

I shook my head. "He was your age. Better safe than sorry."

"Listen to me, Bella." He set the pad of paper on the coffee table. "I knew Harry since we were kids, back before the reservation built its own school. He started taking medication when he was ten. I remember being jealous because he never ran the mile in gym class." He had to pause to press his lips together - Harry's death was much too fresh and raw for him, and I regretted making him talk about it, however obliquely. "He didn't take good enough care of himself these last few years. That's why Sue was always yelling at him."