Scorpion in the Boot

You stamped into the boot and the bark scorpion caught you at the ankle, and it gave you everything it had. Within the hour the foot was afire, then the leg went strange, and by full dark you were drooling and jerking, your eyes rolling loose in your head, your heart stuttering like a telegraph key. The doctor lances the sting, washes it with ammonia water, measures laudanum drop by drop, and sits the whole night with two fingers on your wrist. There is no medicine for the venom itself, only for the fear, and the dark hours will decide.

• Bedridden 3 full days, watched in shifts through the first night, breath and pulse counted by lamplight
• No standing unaided for 3 days, then indoor distances only with a cane or a steadying shoulder for 4 more
• Hands unsteady, speech slurred and eyes slow for 2 days: no shooting, no riding, no rope work, no cards
• /me lies drenched and rigid under the blanket, one leg jerking of its own accord, breath coming in stutters

Recovery A hard week abed before you stand steady, and near two before the leg is honest under you.·Doctor, urgently

It had crept into the bedroll for your warmth, and when you rolled over it struck the web of your thumb. By midnight the whole arm was numb to the shoulder, your jaw ached from clenching, and spit ran that you could not help. The doctor ties a snug cord above the wrist, lances the sting, washes it with ammonia water, and pours whiskey into you while he waits on your heart. It holds, but it is a long wait.

• Right arm in a sling, numb and jerking, no gripping, shooting or reining with it for 5 days
• Abed through tonight and tomorrow, fevered and sweating, no work of any kind
• Jaw stiff for 2 days: soft food, short sentences, no hollering
• /me cradles the slung arm against the chest, thumb twitching under the bandage

Recovery Two days abed, the arm honest again in a week.·Doctor, urgently

You felt the nail-strike at the instep and swore, and by morning the foot would not take the boot at all. It sits swollen drum-tight and shining, red streaks starting up the shin, and a fever with it. The doctor lances the sting, draws what he can, packs it in a bread and soda poultice, and props the leg high, muttering about poison and rot in the same breath.

• No boot on the right foot for 5 days: bare or wrapped, the leg propped whenever seated
• No walking beyond the room for 3 days, then a cane and short distances for 3 more
• Fevered tonight and tomorrow: no riding, no work, water pushed on you by the cupful
• /me eases the propped foot an inch and hisses, the skin shining tight over the swelling

Recovery Three days before the fever breaks, near a week before the boot goes back on.·Doctor required

It had spent the night in your glove, and it struck your palm the moment you pushed your fingers home. Inside the hour the fingers were dancing on their own and the arm dead to the elbow, your eyes sliding when you tried to fix them on anything. The doctor washes the sting with carbolic, splints nothing, for nothing is broken, and instead binds the hand still so the jerking cannot wear you out, then dopes you gently and watches you the night.

• Left hand bound and useless for 4 days: no gripping, no gun work, no rope, buttons done one-handed
• Eyes slow to track for a full day: no shooting, no fine print, no riding faster than a walk
• Abed tonight, sweating the venom through: no whiskey past the doctor's measure
• /me holds the bound left hand flat against the thigh while the fingers dance under the wrap

Recovery The jerking quits inside two days, feeling comes back to the hand in five.·Doctor required

The sting itself was small, a hot nail at the base of the finger, but the arm answered it. By noon you are swollen to the elbow, hot and tight, and there is a fever coming on like weather. The doctor sucks and lances the wound, salves it, and binds the forearm in wet soda cloth, telling you the swelling will crest tomorrow and be a story by Sunday.

• Right arm swollen and tender for 3 days: no heavy lifting, no rope work, gripping only what will not fight back
• Fevered through the day: light duty, plenty of water, no long rides
• /me flexes the swollen fingers slowly, testing which ones answer

Recovery The swelling crests in a day and falls in three, the fever burns out overnight.·Doctor required

It got you at the ankle through a worn sock, and the leg took the insult seriously. By evening the calf is fat to the knee, hot to the palm, and you are sweating a low fever. The doctor lances, salves with carbolic, wraps the leg from ankle to knee, and orders it propped, promising you the sight of your own ankle bone again inside the week.

• The left leg wrapped ankle to knee for 4 days: no running, no ladders, no stirrup work on that side
• Walking short and slow for 2 days, a cane or a fence rail welcome
• Low fever tonight: early to bed, water by the cupful
• /me walks stiff-legged and slow, the wrapped calf held straight as a post

Recovery The swelling falls inside four days, the leg feels its own again in a week.·Doctor required

The sting on your hand was bearable; what came after was not. Within the hour your tongue went to pins and needles, your lips numbed, and your own words came back to you slurred and strange. It is the mark of the bark scorpion, and it scared you worse than the pain did. Whiskey, a soda paste on the sting, and a long careful evening of saying your own name until it comes out right.

• Speech slurred and lips numb for a day: no negotiating, no sweet-talking, no singing
• The stung hand tender for 2 days: light grip only, no revolver work
• /me works the jaw and repeats a word twice, frowning at the shape of it

Recovery The pins leave the tongue by morning, the hand smarts for two days more.·Doctor advised

You were stung at the heel and walked on it anyway, being the sort that does, and by supper the foot had swollen like a ham and the boot had to be cut at the laces to come off. Salve, a soak in water as hot as you can stand, and the sour knowledge that pride costs about a week of limping.

• A hard limp for 4 days: no running, no dancing, no chasing anything that runs
• The right boot loose-laced or off entirely for 3 days
• Hot soaks morning and night for 3 days, the foot propped between them
• /me limps heel-up on the right side, weight rolled onto the toe

Recovery Walking near even in four days, the last of the swelling gone in a week.·Doctor advised

The pain came before the understanding: a nail driven into your ankle as the boot went on, and then the boot flung across camp and the pale devil scuttling out of it. A friend sucked the sting, spat, and salved it with tallow and soda, and now the joint wears a hot red coin of a welt and a deep ache that climbs whenever you stand too long.

• The ankle aches on standing: no long watches on foot for 2 days
• Boot laced loose on that side for 2 days
• /me rolls the ankle in a slow circle, wincing at the top of the turn

Recovery The ache fades over two or three days, the welt outlasts it by a week.·Doctor advised

It was in the saddlebag among the coffee, and it stung the side of your hand as you dug for the pot. You cursed the whole territory awake, shook it out onto the dirt, and killed it with the pot bottom. Baking soda and water made a paste, the paste made it bearable, and the hand carries a hot lump and two numb fingers to show for it.

• Two fingers on the right hand numb for 2 days: no fine work, cards held clumsy
• Grip at half strength on that hand for 2 days
• /me shakes out the right hand and blows across the knuckles

Recovery Feeling seeps back into the fingers inside two days.·No doctor needed

It struck your calf through the bedroll blanket, and an old hand at the fire chewed a plug of tobacco flat and bound it over the sting before you had finished swearing. It burns, it stinks, and it works about as well as anything does, which is to say the leg still aches like a kicked fence post but you will keep it and no mistake.

• A deep ache in the left calf for 2 days: walking is fine, running is foolish
• The tobacco wrap changed morning and night for 2 days, smell included
• /me scratches at the edge of the tobacco wrap and thinks better of it

Recovery The ache quits inside two days, the smell of the cure lasts longer.·No doctor needed

It got your smallest toe as the boot went on, and there is no dignity in any part of what followed: the hopping, the hollering, the boot beaten against a wagon wheel until the thing fell out dead. Whiskey went on the sting and in the man, in unequal measure, and the toe has swollen snug against its neighbors.

• A limp on the right side for 2 days, worse in tight boots
• No running or standing hard in the stirrups for 2 days
• /me favors the right foot, setting it down toe-light

Recovery The toe unswells in two or three days.·No doctor needed

The sock took some of it. The sting came through the wool as a hot wire across the top of your foot, and when you tore the boot off, the scorpion came with it, riding the sock like a burr. A welt rose, a patch of skin around it has gone quiet and numb, and you have shaken every boot in camp twice since, to general amusement.

• A numb patch atop the left foot for 3 days, the welt tender under a boot's tongue
• Boot laced loose on that side for 2 days
• /me taps the top of the foot through the boot, checking if the feeling is back

Recovery The numb patch wakes over three days, the welt fades in five.·No doctor needed

It caught your knuckle as you shook out the bedroll, a flick of fire no worse than a wasp, and you flattened it with the heel of your hand before it could improve on the work. A dab of mud, a shake of the fingers, and the story is already growing in the telling.

• The knuckle smarts for a day: gripping a touch tender, nothing more
• /me sucks the stung knuckle briefly and inspects it

Recovery Right as rain by tomorrow.·No doctor needed

It stung your shin through the trouser leg and the cloth stole most of its venom. What remains is a welt the size of a half dollar and a smart like a nettle patch, worth one good curse and no more. You salved it with what was on hand and went back to the coffee.

• A tender welt on the shin for 2 days, noticed mostly at the stirrup
• /me hikes the trouser cuff to frown at a red welt on the shin

Recovery The smart is gone by morning, the welt in two days.·No doctor needed

You felt the hit at your ankle and your heart went to your throat, but the devil struck dry, or near it, spending its venom on the boot leather first. A pinprick, a small hot spot, and a quarter hour of waiting to see if your tongue would go strange. It did not. You have rarely paid closer attention to your own lips.

• A hot spot at the ankle for a day, a wary eye kept on it for two
• /me presses two fingers to the ankle and waits, counting

Recovery Nothing to recover from by tomorrow, save the fright.·No doctor needed

It pinched your finger with its claws, never the tail at all, and you flung boot and beast halfway to the picket line. The pinch left two tiny marks and cost your dignity somewhat more, since half the camp saw the dance you did in one boot in the frost of the morning.

• A pinched finger, tender for a day at most
• Camp ribbing about the one-boot dance, duration indefinite
• /me examines a fingertip with great seriousness, finding almost nothing

Recovery By supper you will have forgotten which finger it was.·No doctor needed

You shook the boot first, heel up, as your mother taught you before you were tall enough to reach a stirrup, and the scorpion dropped into the firelight with its tail up and its plans ruined. Your boot heel ended the discussion. Somewhere, your mother is right about everything, again.

• Not a mark on you, and a habit reinforced for life
• /me tips both boots heel-up and raps them smartly before pulling them on

Recovery Nothing to heal. Write your mother.·No doctor needed

Your toes touched something alive in the toe of the boot and the boot left your foot faster than any boot before it. It landed by the fire, the scorpion crawled out into the open, and the camp cook ended it with a skillet, remarking that breakfast was nearly livelier than usual. Your heart took longer to settle than anything else.

• Untouched, though your pulse argued otherwise for a quarter hour
• /me shakes out every boot, glove and hat within reach, twice

Recovery Nothing but nerves, and those settle by breakfast.·No doctor needed

You woke before dawn to a weight the size of a pocket watch crossing your throat, and you had sense or grace enough not to move. Half the camp woke and froze with you, and for a long minute nothing in the world breathed. It walked the length of your collarbone, stepped off onto your hat brim where it lay beside you, and you rose in one motion and sailed hat and devil both into the coals. Men will buy you drinks on this story for years, and every word of it is true.

• Untouched entirely, and owed a drink by every witness
• The story is yours to tell, and it grows a foot of scorpion a year
• /me draws a slow line along the collarbone, showing exactly where it walked

Recovery Nothing to heal. The hat, sadly, is past saving.·No doctor needed