“Have you ever had shin splints before?” Ellie asked.
Sawyer shrugged, “Not that I know of, I guess.”
“Hmm,” started Ellie, “do the muscles in your shins ever hurt?”
Sawyer gave a nod. “Now that you mention it, I guess they had been sore lately. I didn’t realize it was a problem though. I just figured it was muscle soreness.”
“To my knowledge,” Ellie explained, “shin splints basically refers to muscle soreness, but if it goes on too long, you could develop a stress fracture.”
Sawyer’s eyes widened.
“For now,” Ellie calmly said, “I’m going to try to tape your lower leg. It can support the muscles and help get you to help.”
“You’re helping,” Sawyer nicely said.
“Professional help,” Ellie clarified with a nod.
“Why did you want me to take off my boot? Are you gauging my level of stink with some kind of odor-meter?” he suspiciously asked.
Ellie laughed. “Actually, there is a condition called compartment syndrome that can be quite serious, but I don’t think you have that. But if you did, any compression on your lower leg or foot could worsen the condition. Again, I don’t think you have that.” She rattled all this off as easily as if she were explaining how to make a peanut butter sandwich. Wow!
Sawyer’s eyes were wide as he gazed at Ellie with a look of awe. I think he was as amazed at Ellie’s knowledge as she was at his physical training.
“I need the first aid kit,” Ellie suddenly said.
Sawyer and I looked at her. “It’s under your foot,” she quietly said.
“Oh, yeah,” Sawyer quickly said as he moved his leg off the pile of packs. “So, where did you learn all this medical knowledge?”
Ellie shrugged, “Reading, I guess.”
Sawyer laughed. “I read too, but my backpacking magazines don’t cover all this.”
Ellie smiled. “I’ve also learned tons at the vet clinic.”
“Treating me like a dog,” Sawyer playfully said and shook his head.
“It’s a large animal vet clinic,” Ellie corrected.
“Treating me like a sheep,” he tried again with the same level of humor in his voice.
“You smell like one!” Marshall called from where he and Lydie waited.
“You hike like one,” Ellie kindly offered. All eyes turned to Ellie, and she quickly added, “Those mountain sheep we saw the other day were as spry and sure-footed as any creature I’ve ever seen.”
Sawyer’s eyes were fixed on Ellie and his face glowed from her praise. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Watching them look at each other reminded me of last night by the fire. They wore the same smiles and the same sincere expressions. Maybe Marshall was right that cute wasn’t the best word to describe them. Amazing. Revolutionized. New and improved. Still, definitely cute.
Ellie reached for a roll of pre-wrap and a roll of tape from the first aid kit. While she busied herself with taping up Sawyer’s lower leg, I excused myself to check on Lydie. I found her dozing in the warm sunlight, leaning against a tree. Marshall must have helped her move off the stretcher. I glanced around, and when I didn’t see Marshall, I figured he had walked off trail to relieve himself. Noticing that the stretcher needed to be re-folded, I began to straighten it, but the sight of Lydie with the sun lighting her face stopped me.
Lydia Joy, I thought. I remembered the day she was born. I recalled Dad picking Ellie and me up from Grandpa and Grandma’s to go meet “our baby.” The whole drive to the hospital, Dad wouldn’t tell us if we had a brother or sister. He never gave us a hint. He was so excited to surprise us that he took a picture of our faces as we walked into Mom’s hospital room behind him and took in the pink hat and blanket. We were perfectly elated with a sister. Mom told us her name was Lydia Joy, and, while I don’t remember this detail, I enthusiastically introduced my baby sister to the nurse as Lydie. The nickname stuck, and she’s been Lydie ever since.
When did she grow up? I pondered as I observed how long her legs suddenly looked. I also noticed a fresh sprinkling of freckles under her eyes. I smiled as I thought of her chipper attitude. For only eleven, Lydie was very wise. For the first time, looking at Lydie, I saw a strong resemblance to our mom. Mom. A pang of longing for my mom hit me, and I caught my breath.
“You okay?” Marshall’s voice surprised me.
“Yeah, I was going to tidy up the stretcher,” I quickly said. Back to business. I quickly prayed that I would be back with my parents later today. “I could use a hand, though.”
Marshall nodded and stooped down to reposition the sticks. “How is Lydie?” I tentatively asked. “Did she talk at all before she fell asleep?”
Shrugging, he explained, “I think she’s in a lot more pain than we’re aware of, and her body is just exhausted. It’s good she’s able to sleep some. I just wish we could get her to a real doctor sooner.”
“Do you know how close to the ranger station we are?” I optimistically wondered.
“More like how far from the ranger station we are,” Marshall dryly answered.
My eyes shot to his face. We had been hiking for about three hours, I determined from checking the sun’s height in the sky. I glanced up to double check. Yup, it’s about 10:30. And while I had lost track of how long we had been on the trail below tree line, I thought we were already farther than Marshall and I had made it yesterday.
“Marlee, all things considered, we’re making decent progress. Keeping in mind that none of us has had a real meal for a day and a half, Sawyer has a bum leg and we’re evacuating Lydie, we’re doing well. But we still have three miles ahead of us,” he explained.
To say I was disappointed at this information is an understatement. Chewing my lip, I forced myself not to cry. Think of the steady progress. Stay calm. We’re doing fine. Dad and Caleb are probably helping the Search and Rescue Team, and Mom and Julia are probably preparing warm food for us.
“Hey, it’s okay, Marlee.” I jumped when I realized Marshall had figured out my train of thought.
Meeting his eyes, then glancing again at Lydie, I whispered, “Do you really think so? When do you think we’ll be back with our parents? How long until Lydie can get to a clinic?”
“We’re in Colorado, Marlee, not Timbuktu! Remember what Sawyer said yesterday. By the time our parents realized we needed help, the Search and Rescue Team probably just took action this morning. Obviously I can’t say for certain, but I really think we’ll either be found or get ourselves to help by tonight,” Marshall encouraged.
“In time for supper?” I hopefully asked.
