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Ryan looked and Brent and I. He squinted by the firelight. Trying desperately to recognize the tall confident young man standing beside me. The new Brent was nothing like the old Brent. He had cut his hair and changed his style of dress. Finally, Brent gave up and began to speak to Ryan.

"Ryan, It's me. Brent."
"Brent? Brent Wilson?"
"Yeah"
"What are you doing here?"
"I was in town for this music thing. Then I ran into Brendon down at the park ranger station. He said you were hurt. He seemed really worried so I came up here to make sure you were okay."
"Really? That's ......nice of you"

I broke the streak of happy conversation by saying "Ryan, the doctors can't come and get you until morning. You're going to have to stay here for the rest of the night. Brent and I will stay with you."

Even in the dim lit cave I could see Ryan's worried expression. He lowered his voice to just above a whisper as if he were afraid of someone eavesdropping. "I'm scared." He murmured.

"I know Ry, but you'll have to hang in there. How do you feel? Does anything hurt?" I said solemnly.

"I feel better then I did at first. The cut on my leg has stopped bleeding. I can breath normally. It's just my hand. It hurts like hell. It's wrapped in your scarf. I'm afraid to take it out I don't want to see it. It was bleeding a lot earlier. I think it stopped now."

I turned my attention to the scarf clad hand Ryan cradled in his lap. The hideous scarf was almost completely scarlet red. The blood had soaked threw it and stained parts of Ryan's sweatshirt. I tired not to shout in horror as I surveyed his hand with my eyes.

"Brent, maybe you should take a look at his hand." I said wearily

Brent kneeled down next to Ryan. Ryan reluctantly gave his hand to Brent. Brent rested Ryan's hand in his lap as he skillfully unwrapped it. He pulled the scarf from the wound gracefully yet quickly. Ryan winced with the pain but did not cry out. Once freed from it's knitted cocoon the three of us got our first look at the disaster that was Ryan's hand. Brent stopped and stared for a moment. I had to look away the sight was too horrible. His entire hand was red and encrusted with blood. A small ivory white bone poked through Ryan's tiny wrist. His knuckles were battered and covered with ripped and broken skin. Worst of all were his long elegant fingers. The tips of the fingers were a blackish purple. There was a gash on his ring finger that almost reached the bone. Like a pro Brent touched Ryan's delicate fingertips. "Can you feel that?" he asked. I looked at Ryan. It was then that I realized Ryan had been looking away, too afraid to look at his own hand. "No" he answered honestly. With Ryan still unable to look Brent tapped the palm of Ryan's hand "How about that? Can you feel it?" He asked again. "No" said Ryan again. Brent then touched Ryan's forearm just above his tattoo. "Can you feel this?" he said. "Yeah! I feel that." "Okay" whispered Brent. He took off his own scarf and began to wrap Ryan's hand up again. "Wait? That's it? Aren't you going to do something?" I said confused as I watched him put the clean scarf on Ryan's hand. He didn't answer me. Once he was done he stood up silently and motioned for me to meet him across the cave.

"Brendon." He said sternly.
"Yeah? What's up?"
"Ryan broke his wrist badly. The fragments of bone must have severed the veins that lead to his hand. His entire right had hasn't gotten blood for over three hours. The tissue is basically dead. When Ryan gets to the hospital it's going to have to be amputated."
"What? Oh my god. That's not too bad though. He can still do things. It's not a severe handicap, right?"
"He won't be able to play guitar."
"Oh shit. My god. Are you sure? Maybe he could re-learn how to play with his left hand or something?"
"Maybe. Should we tell him now?"

"Tell me what?" Asked Ryan nervously. He had inched closer to use in order to listen in on our conversation. At least his legs still worked, but how the hell were we going to tell him that he might never play his guitar again?

"Ryan, Brent found out something. You should really know this. Promise us you'll stay calm. You might want to lay down 'cause this is pretty serious."

Ryan leaned back and rested his head on a large rock. "I'll stay calm. What is it?" He asked looking at Brent and then back at me.







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