Page 21 of Catch of a Lifetime
“Nothing, because you’renotmy sugar baby and I’m not your sugar daddy. I’m just…I’m a grateful friend.”
“Ah.” He sat back and crossed his arms. “Thing about friends, Joe, is that you don’t have to pay them for helping out when you need it. They do it for free.”
“But you always?—”
“Yuh. Always will.”
“Jerry—”
“Buy me a pint and we’re square.”
I’d buy him a pint.
And then I’d buy him a quad bike. We could discuss the finer details another day.
“All right,” I said, and snagged another Hobnob before getting to my feet and going back over to Dave.
Jerry slurped the rest of his tea, walloped his mug down on the table like a barbarian, and came to crouch beside me. “Fuck, my knees,” he muttered vaguely as they cracked on the way down.
Dave’s wounds had stopped bleeding, but they still gaped unpleasantly wide and would, I had no doubt, start up again the moment we moved him.
Unless…
I slanted Jerry a speculative look. “How good are you at sewing?”
6
“Fair to middlin’,” Jerry said. “Not that it matters, because I ain’t about to go sticking needles in your boyfriend. You do it.”
“You do it. I’ll buy youtwoquad bikes.”
Jerry gave me a disapproving look. “You’re a fisherman, Joe. It’s no different from unhooking a fish. Get on with it.”
“We both know that I was a mediocre fisherman on my very best day, and I haven’t done it properly for years. You’d do a much better job.”
“I don’t like needles.”
“But…it’s no different from unhooking a fish. You just said.”
“I was being supportive.”
“Be supportive and stitch him up!”
Jerry shuddered. “No.”
I stared at him. “You’re squeamish.”
“When it comes to needles and people? Yes.”
I’d seen the man do terrible things to fish, and whistle cheerfully while doing it.
“I’ve got Steri-Strips and a roll of Elastoplast in my first-aid kit. Probably better to try that.” I looked down at the horrifyingblack, purple, and blue bruising over Dave’s torso and arms. “Maybe we should start with some ice.”
“Good idea,” Jerry said.
“I wish we could get a doctor to come and have a look at him. I know we can’t, but…” I trailed off and scrubbed my face tiredly. “I hate being so helpless.”
Jerry reached out and squeezed my shoulder in reassurance, then said, “Ow,” when Dave set a big hand in the centre of his chest and pushed him over.
