Read Online The Tinkerer's Daughter by Jamie Sedgwick - Free Book Online Page B

when he flew out across the fields.
    Eventually, he came in for a landing and I took the wagon to go meet him. He gradually lost altitude, until his wheels were just inches off the ground. Then he set down. To my horror, the wings snapped. The glider spun sideways and then flipped, turning over three full times before it finally landed in a wrecked heap.
     

Chapter 12
     
     
     
    I sped across the field to the crash site and ran over to the debris. I located him off to the side, lying on his back, still strapped to a section of wing.
    “Tinker! Tinker, can you hear me? Are you alive?” My heart thudded in my chest. I was terrified.
    He raised his head and chuckled. “Did you see that flight?”
    “I saw, Tinker. It almost got you killed.” I knelt down to help him get the straps off.
    “Yes, but she flew, Breeze. Did you see? It was amazing. I could have stayed up there for hours. Until sunset, at least.”
    “Yes, wonderful,” I said angrily. “Except that your glider is destroyed.”
    He glanced around a the wreckage. “Ah, yes… slight miscalculation there. But I know how to fix it!”
    I turned away and stomped angrily back towards the coach.
    “Wait, Breeze. Wait!”
    “What is it?”
    “Umm. I don’t think I can walk. I think my leg’s broken.”
    The doctor in town took a look at Tinker’s leg and proclaimed that it had, in fact, been broken. Just below his hip. Oddly, the treatment for this involved pulling it straight, which appeared to be ungodly painful, and then securing the leg to a long brace.
    He gave me explicit instructions about keeping the leg straight, and not allowing Tinker to walk on it. I promised to do all I could, though I knew that the instructions wouldn’t sit well with Tinker. He was not the sort of man to spend a dozen weeks lying around the house.
    The doctor also gave us a small bottle of medicine. A teaspoon of it he said would kill Tinker’s pain. Tinker took a swig of it on the way home, and by the time we arrived, he was in a stupor. I didn’t have the strength to carry him up to the loft, so I tucked him into my bed and I slept in his.
    As I drifted to sleep, it occurred to me that we had somehow switched roles. For months now Tinker had been looking out for me and protecting me. Now, strangely, I found myself acting as the responsible party. How had that happened? I was too exhausted to give it much thought. I told myself that in the morning everything would be back to normal, and went to sleep.
    It must have been three a.m. when Tinker’s scream woke me from a dead sleep. I flew down the ladder and found him on the floor next to my bed. Apparently he had been tossing and turning, and managed to knock himself out of bed. I rushed to his side. “Shh, calm down. Take a deep breath, Tinker. What happened?”
    He was sweating and his breath came in gasps. “My leg is on fire,” he said. “Something’s wrong.” He clenched his teeth as another spasm of pain racked his body, and a loud cry escaped from his lips. I put my hand on his forehead. He was burning up.
    “You have a fever,” I said. “We’ve got to get you back into bed. Can you help me?”
    He nodded, and I grabbed him by the shoulders. I had him halfway up before I realized it may have been a mistake. The pain was killing him. Unfortunately, by that time it was too late. I heaved again, and he pushed just enough to get his torso back up.
    Slowly and delicately I lifted the broken leg back into place. He howled as the brace that should have been holding it straight came loose. “I’m going to get your medicine,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”
    I returned a moment later with the bottle, and poured some of the foul smelling liquid down his throat. Tinker’s cries died away immediately, and he fell to moaning and panting while I sat there. I put a cool rag over his forehead.
    “Tinker, I wish I knew what to do,” I said. “I wish I knew how to fix you.”
    “Just do it,” he mumbled