I need to get him to the camp nurse.
First, though, I try to reassure him as I climb out of my bunk. “It’s okay, buddy. We’ll get you taken care of. I’ll be with you the whole time.”
“What’s wrong with me?” he asks in a pitiful little voice.
“I don’t know, but we’re going to go see Ms. Hannah, and she’ll know exactly how to help. Now, go get some shoes on.”
He runs off to find his shoes while I shake Jayden awake to let him know I’m taking Duncan to the nurse, and he’s in charge. Jayden’s eyes widen, but he nods resolutely and sits up in bed.
I slip on my flip-flops and wait for Duncan by the cabin door. When he shuffles up next to me, he hands me a flashlight, switched off.
“I thought we’d need it for the walk to the nurse’s cabin,” he whispers.
“Good thinking,” I whisper back, kicking myself for not being the one to think of this detail.
Once outside, I switch on the flashlight. “Close your eyes,” I instruct Duncan, and then shine the light on his face so I can see it better.
In addition to the swelling, his skin looks red, especially in one section of his right cheek.Did he get bitten by a spider? Is it an allergic reaction to something?I try to remember if Duncan has any allergies, but nothing comes to mind.Is it because he’s not allergic to anything, or because I only see him a handful of weeks a year?
I drop the beam of light back to the ground in front of us. “Okay, let’s go.” I take his hand and hold onto it, even though he’s probably too old for such a thing. He doesn’t pull away.
We walk across camp to the nurse’s cabin and knock on the door. Hannah, an older woman who works as a school nurse during the year and spends her summers treating poison ivy and sunburns at Camp Prairie Star, flips on the cabin’s outside light and opens the door.
“Everything okay?” she asks. Her graying hair is piled on top of her head in a claw clip, and the sash of her plaid robe is tied around her waist.
“Um, we’re not sure,” I answer, gesturing to Duncan’s face.
Hannah steps closer and uses her hand under Duncan’s chin to tilt his head toward the light. “Oh my. You two better come in.”
She steps back through the doorway, and I nudge Duncan inside behind her.
Her cabin is set up as an infirmary, with two cots near the front of the room and a long desk with medical supplies lining the back wall. Beyond that are two doors, one that leads to a bathroom, and one that leads to Hannah’s bedroom space.
Hannah has Duncan sit on one of the cots as she takes his temperature from his forehead with one of those infrared thermometers. When it beeps, she looks at the screen and hums. She asks his name and taps on the screen of a tablet, presumably to bring up the medical forms Maggie and Kent must have filled out.
“It says no allergies,” she says, almost to herself. Then, setting down the tablet, she snaps on a pair of latex gloves and examines his face. She touches the swollen areas gently with her fingers as she keeps up a stream of reassuring words.
I slump into a chair near the front door. Watching her work and knowing Duncan is in good hands, I’m able to relax.
“Did you go on a nature hike in the woods yesterday, Mr. Duncan?” she asks with a soft smile.
Duncan’s mouth falls open. “Yes. How did you know?”
Hannah glances toward me. “Is Gage your counselor?”
“Yes,” Duncan answers.
“I’m also his brother,” I add, in case the family connection entitles me to additional information.
“Has he ever had anything like this happen before?” she asks me.
I should know the answer to that, but I don’t. I lift an arm helplessly. “I’m not sure. We’ve never lived together.”
Hannah regards me with kind but curious eyes. “That’s all right.” She pulls off the gloves and turns her attention back to Duncan. “Looks like skeeter syndrome to me.”
Despite being tired and worried, I crack a smile and exchange an amused look with Duncan. “That can’t be a real thing.”
Hannah smiles back. “Oh, but it is. Just means that he had an allergic reaction to a mosquito bite. You can see the bite mark here on his right cheek. I’ll give him Benadryl and put some hydrocortisone cream on his face. Both are on the list of preapproved medications his parents gave us permission to administer. He has a slight fever, but I’m not too worried about that.” She looks at her watch. “I’ll need to call his parents and let them know what happened, but it’s not urgent so we’ll let his poor momma sleep a little longer.”
