Free Puppet by Pauline C. Harris Page B

darkness.  “I’m sorry,” I say quietly. 
    James shakes his head.  “It’s alright.  It wouldn’t have made any difference if I had been driving.” 
    I want to open my mouth and protest; to say that he’d have been watching the road better, but I can tell he’s tired and hurt and he’d only argue with me.
    We make our way back to the house in the dark, trying not to stumble over potholes.  I have no idea where we’re going but James seems to know the way and we arrive back much sooner than I had expected.
    “Jed must’ve noticed we’re gone,” I say, pointing to the lighted windows. 
    James is silent while we walk up the front steps and into the entryway.  I’m frustrated with myself because I’m afraid that James is angry with me. 
    I blink a few times as my eyes adjust to the light and I hear Jed hurrying down the stairs. 
    “James!  Penelope!” he cries.  “Where have you been?”  Suddenly Jed skids to a stop a few feet from us and his eyes widen in shock as he brings a hand to his mouth.  I turn around quickly, wondering if James is more hurt than I realized but as I look him up and down I notice that he’s watching me.  Just then I see the cut on his forehead, deep and red, and my eyes widen. 
    “Your head,” I say quietly, reaching upwards but then I stop as I catch sight of my arm.  Covered in blood.  More blood than I had realized.  I frown, bringing my arm back down and staring at both of them.  Long gashes cover each palm and dried blood lines my arms and part of my torso.
    Suddenly Jed scurries away with surprising speed.  “Get her in the bathroom,” he orders James as he flees the room.  James holds my elbow and hauls me upstairs to the bathroom as if he’s afraid I might fall over. 
    “I’m going to be okay, really,” I tell him, realizing it must be true if I can say it.  “Jed’s...” overreacting.   I keep forgetting that I can’t even utter unintentional lies. 
    James flicks on the light and pulls me into the bathroom, turning on the water and placing my hands in the sink.  I wince as the cold makes my cuts sting, but I bite my lip to keep from saying anything.  James begins rubbing away the blood on my arms and it begins to disappear, revealing healthy skin underneath.
    “See?” I tell him.  “It’s all from my hands, I’m really going to be fine.” 
    “What are these from?” he asks, leaning down to inspect the long, deep gashes.  He rubs his thumb along my hand, rinsing off the blood and all the red swirling around in the drain is beginning to make me feel queasy. 
    Just then Jed bursts into the room with medical tape and bottles and ointments.  James moves out of the way as Jed comes forward and begins to clean my hands.  I take a sharp intake of breath and wince as he rinses out the cuts.
    “How did you get these?” Jed mirrors James’s question. 
    “We were driving the car,” James replies for me.  “We got in a wreck.” 
    “It wasn’t James’s fault,” I jump in.  “I was driving.”
    “James!”  Jed turns to glare at him.
    “No!  I made him teach me.  Don’t be mad at him.” 
    Jed sighs and continues to clean my hands.
    “But how did you get those?” James asks again.  “The steering wheel?” 
    I send him a puzzled look.  Didn’t he know?  “From the door,” I tell him.  “When I was trying to get you out.” 
    James looks slightly horrified.  “What were you doing?”
    I’m startled by his tone.  “The door was smashed in and the handle didn’t work so I broke the window, you remember don’t you?”  James nods.  “Well I was afraid you wouldn’t fit so I was trying to pull it open by the edge of the window.” 
    Jed stops cleaning my hands for a moment to stare at me.  “Wait, you pried open the door?” he snaps.  “With your hands?” 
    I frown.  No! I try to say.  I grit my teeth together.  “I mean...I don’t know...I couldn’t get it open, but I bent it