Enigma by Suzie Clarke

Author:Suzie Clarke [Clarke, Suzie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bold Strokes Books
Published: 2022-11-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Kalena had hardly slept after she and Polly returned to the house Sunday night. All she could think about was that Polly would be leaving soon. She’d finally cried herself to sleep about four a.m.

Now she couldn’t concentrate. Twice she’d stopped to re-torque the fit on the cover of the second engine block of the morning. Was Polly thinking of her? Was she in the administration building, or had she gone somewhere else?

The sharp metal tool slipped. Before she could correct the angle, the edge gouged her, tearing through flesh from her knuckle almost to the base of her thumb. Searing pain shot across her palm and up her arm. Blood dripped down her hand and over the engine block. “Damn it.” She pulled the scarf from her head and pressed it against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. She lifted it after a few seconds to inspect the cut, but the moment she removed the pressure, blood oozed out and covered her again. It was gaping, and she could see bone.

Now what? She didn’t want to go the hospital. She wouldn’t get paid for her time away, the rest of the day would be a waste, and she wouldn’t get to see Polly at lunchtime. She pressed harder on the scarf, cradling her hand close to her body.

Walter Henry, the assembly-line foreman, came to her station. “Let me see it.” He pulled the fabric away and took her hand, gently turning it over. The blood pooled in the wound and ran down her thumb and wrist. He grimaced. “Oh, hell’s bells. You stuck it good. Going to need stitches for sure.” He waved for another worker to take her place on the line. “Let’s go to the aid station. Someone over there will take you to the hospital. I’ll make sure you’re clocked out for the rest of the day. Tomorrow you’ll work as a runner for the assembly lines. Be more careful, will ya? This isn’t the beauty shop, ya know.”

Kalena nodded and pressed harder on the scarf as she followed him to the aid station.

When she got home from the hospital, Aunt Berna slipped a pillow onto her lap and set a cup of hot chocolate on the end-table beside her chair.

“I’m not an invalid, Aunt Berna. It’s just a few stitches.”

“Twenty stitches are not a few. Keep your hand on that pillow. Can I get you anything else? Are you hungry?”

Kalena shook her head. “No. This is fine.” She sighed. It was only 1:45. The morphine had worn off before the aide from work had driven her home. Now the stitches ached and burned. And it’d be hours before Polly came home.

Aunt Berna went on with her cleaning.

An hour later, Kalena heard a thud upstairs, and then Aunt Berna screamed and yelled something in Polish she couldn’t quite understand. She raced up the steps, holding her hand to her chest, and stopped in the doorway of Polly’s room. Aunt Berna was standing by the chest of drawers she’d evidently moved away from the wall to clean behind.

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