I am almost ready to leave the house, water the garden, make sure the bunnies have water and go to clinic, when I hear a voice outside.
"Ow ow" moan.
"Are you ok?" says a voice, and out the upstairs window, I see a bicycle slowing.
"Ow, ow!" voiced howlish not quite crying and sounds young. I don't know the sex.
Shit. I go out the front door, head for the gate by the mailbox, hoping it's the son of the man on the bike faking.
Nope. Young man sitting by a downed bike, making hurt noises. A car pulled over in front and one in back. I judge fast that they haven't hit him. I am not carrying my cell phone, and keep heading towards him. Assess first.
His helmet is off. He is holding his right arm stiffly. The other bike rider is across the street and witnessed the fall. No cars involved.
"Did you hit your head?"
"No. Ow, ow, my arm."
Across the street: "I saw him crash. I don't have my cell."
No open fracture. "Straighten your arm." He can. He can pronate and supinate. I shoo the cars away. The young man doesn't want me to call an ambulance or take him to the hospital. "Where do you live?"
Close, with his grandparents.
He's mildly shocky from the pain, but able to get up. Road rash both hands and right elbow. I walk his bike to my yard, put his arm on our ice pack, ace wrap the elbow and drive him to his grandparents. He'll come back for his bike.
It's 8:00. Time still water the garden, water the bunnies, stop to buy another cup of coffee and maybe make it to work on time.
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