11-12-12
“I’ll be in the bodega getting the laundry!” Dad yelled though the rain as he ran to the large shed.
Nothing exciting ever happens around here, I sighed. We were at home between classes, and the Spanish book I was reading was boring.
Only 5 minutes later, my dad and Julio (the school’s ground keeper) were standing on our porch.
“I think he cut himself with a machete,” Dad explained.
Julio showed us all the fresh gash from the machete on his hand.
Abigail gasped, Elijah ran in circles, and I tried to stay calm.
“Bro, you need stitches! This is deep!” Dad said. Then he turned to me. “Get the peroxide.”
I gathered peroxide, rubbing alcohol, and Abigail got cotton balls from under the sink.
I admit, when I looked at all that blood it made me a little queasy.
How deep is it? Does he need stitches? Well, something exciting is happening, but I didn’t plan for it to mean—
My thoughts were interrupted by my father.
“I said, go tell your mom what happened,” Dad repeated himself. I guess I wasn’t listening.
Abigail and I ran to the school, where Mom was teaching English to some 1st graders.
“Mom,” I said. “This is kinda an emergency… Julio cut his hand with a machete… and he’s bleeding at our house. Dad said to come get you.”
But I was thinking: Julio’s at our house, bleeding everywhere, and dad wants you!
“Cecelia, take over,” Mom said as we left.
Mom walked to the office. “Roberto, Julio cut his hand, he’s bleeding and may need stiches.”
Boy, my mom is a lot better at paraphrasing than me.
So we walked over to the cabin, and Roberto found out what happened….
Julio had been cutting bamboo when boom! The machete slipped. Then he went to the bodega, and asked my dad “Doctor?”.
“No….” Dad said, confused.
“Doctor?” Julio asked again, this time showing him the cut.
“Oohhh…” Dad said, and took him to our house.
After he translated, Roberto called a truck and Julio was on his way to (ouch) stitches.
Madeline Studebaker