Black Mould - Twelve - Treatment for Some Ills

Black Mould - Twelve - Treatment for Some Ills

Black Mould - Twelve - Treatment for Some Ills

Dada? I whispered as I entered our home.

Where were you? Mom shrieked.

I stood in the doorway, taking things in, unable to move.

There was more blood in the house, splashed over the wooden boards of the floor and onto the table. My dad was sitting there, bent over his hand. It was bloody, covered in cloth that was already soaked through. He glanced my way, then smiled, but it never got past the strain in his eyes. He was hurting.

What happened? I asked.

Did one of those weirdos out there attack my dad? Maybe he was carrying something and they came at him with a knife, or maybe it was an accident? Did

My mom reached out and pinched my ear to pull me into the house. Where, were, you? she asked.

Sweetie, its okay, Dad said.

No, its not! Mom screeched. Our child is supposed to be at home, not running off to gah! Mom let go of my ear, and I rubbed at it. That had hurt! But then I saw the tears staining her face and I dampened down my anger.

Dada, are you okay? I asked. A stupid question for someone bleeding so much.

He nodded, but it was clear that he wasnt. Ill be just fine, he said.

Were going to the clinic, Mom said. There was no give there. It was an order, and she wasnt going to take no for an answer. I think my dad saw as much, or he was too tired to argue, because he got to his feet, absently touched the table with his bandaged hand, then winced back from it as if hed touched a hot stove.

We dont have the money, he complained.

Doctor Livalis is kind, hell help us, Mom said.

My dad didnt have the energy to argue, so we filed out of the house, Mom hovering around Dad, arms reaching up to him, then dropping back down as if she didnt know what to do with herself. I wasnt much better. Dad was hurt and

And I dont know why, but it felt like I never realised how much I loved my parents in this world. They were good people. Unfortunate and poor, but honest and kind. Seeing Dad hurt was painful, and if it wasnt for the gnawing worry in my chest, I might have been tempted to allow myself to cry.

We moved in a direction Id never travelled before. Up two layers, through a tunnel between a bunch of smaller homes and then across a maze of catwalks heading roughly north from our home.

The city was truly a maze at times. Houses stacked atop each other like a jenga tower, all tin walls and reused containers with chimney pipes poking through them for the coal smoke to be carried off.

The clinic turned out to be an entire building set on one of the wider streets. It was accessible from one floor off the ground and was painted white, though the colour had turned to yellow with grime and time.

Let me see your hand while you tell me what happened. The doctor pulled up a stool next to the cot my dad sat on. I sat next to him, pressing into his side, giving him what comfort I could.

Its the tri-baler. Theres supposed to be a safety cowling, but they never installed it. I warned the floor manager again and again about it. My shirt must have gotten caught in it, and then it pulled at my hand. If it wasnt for Larry shutting the whole thing down Poor man. The manager was giving him an earful for shutting down the line until he saw all the blood. Took two guys to get my hand out, and

Thats a common story, Doctor Livalis said. He shook his head after looking at the hand, turning it this way and that. Roger, Im not sure what to say, but theres not much I can do here. I can stitch this up well enough. It wont bleed. And Ill give you an ointment to prevent infection. Nothing expensive, dont worry. Stitches are just string, and the ointments made local.

But, my hand, my dad said.

Unless you find a very good healing mage, or perhaps a potion, limb regrowth is he shook his head, and I got the message. It wasnt impossible. It was expensive. And expensive might as well be impossible for us. If you were more of a fighter, Id say you might have a chance in the dungeons, but

Im not going to go off and die on my family with some delver crew, my dad said. He tried to ball his fists, then winced. The factory, they need me, so maybe theyll foot the bill. He didnt sound convinced at all.

I knew my dad was a mechanic of some sort, but, well, I supposed that he wasnt the most important one on the site. How old was he? Looking up to his face, it took me a moment to realise that he was only just in his twenties. Mid-twenties at most.

So young.

I can still work, he said. When, when can I get back to work?

Ideally? the doctor said. Give yourself a week or two. But, well.

Id be fired, Dad said. Larry was right, about the union thing, I should have

The doctor glared. Dont go parading those sorts of ideas here. I dont need the wrong ears hearing and shutting down my clinic for spreading that kind of thing. Talk about it, but do so elsewhere.

Right, thank you, Dad said.

Mom muttered her thanks too, then stood up as the doctor left the room.

Are you going to be okay? I asked.

My dad found a smile for me, then reached over to pat my head, hesitated, then switched hands. Ill be fine, little mushroom.

Whats a dungeon? I asked.

Later, he said.

I would be asking him later. My dad deserved better than this. So much better. And if this dungeon thing had what he needed, then maybe

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