DAY 5 – COMFORT

If there was a little known fact about Clyde, it was his love for animals.

His adoration didn't come close to matching Lana's, but Clyde could go through the longest cat video compilations without getting bored. That counted for something, didn't it?

If not, then he'd rely on his fascination of horses to back up his claim. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something about them always drew his interest. Maybe it was the way their manes flowed in the wind as their strong legs kicked up dust in their galloping strides through flowery meadows—something so simple yet so beautiful deserved his attention for at least a few minutes, which was why he couldn't get enough of watching horse documentaries on television.

It didn't matter if they were big or small, brown or black, thoroughbreds or hybrids—there wasn't a horse that Clyde didn't appreciate in some capacity.

…

Well, except for one. Then again, the boy didn't think that there was anyone on Earth who liked charley horses.

They were gruesome creatures, not to mention sneaky. They always struck when one least expected it, chomping their teeth right into a calf with brutish accuracy. They didn't discriminate, either—women and children were just as liable to be targets as men.

As the Sun began to fall—slowly draining the sky of its vibrancy—on a Thursday afternoon in Ketcham Park, Clyde had another brush of pain with the beast as it seized his left calf, immediately immobilizing him into a near fetal position on the grass. One minute, he was running around and tossing a Frisbee between him, Lincoln, and Lynn, and the next had him clenching his teeth and moaning.

Lynn was the first to react, telling a concerned Lincoln that she'd take care of everything and that he should take the Frisbee and start to head home before their parents started to worry. Of course, she made sure to mention to let them know that she'd be held up with Clyde just before he left. He was reluctant for only a few seconds before he bid Clyde farewell, taking the Frisbee and his worries with him.

Then, without warning, Clyde found himself lifted up by Lynn's strong arms, slung over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and whisked away through the grassy fields towards the picnic area. He was too busy hissing from the pain to object to Lynn's actions, but he was put at ease when Lynn said, her tone resolute and reassuring, "Hang in there, Clydesdale. I got ya."

She couldn't see it, but her use of one of his favorite nicknames got him to manage a smile, as pained as it was.

After all, with the exception of one kind, he couldn't get enough of horses.

Poor Clyde was still a whimpering mess by the time Lynn brought him to an empty picnic table and gingerly laid him across one of its benches, leaving his unhurt leg to dangle to the side

Lynn didn't allow herself to worry, though. Even though she was fresh out of potassium, she still had one of the most surefire ways of beating down any charley horse.

"There we go," Lynn said, smiling despite Clyde's face being scrunched up from pain. "Okay, now for the fun part."

"'F-fun part'?" Clyde stammered in a low groan through his frown.

"Mmhmm."

From there, Lynn went to work. There were a few obstructions that she had to dispose of before she get to where she needed. The first was his shoe. Sitting beside his propped up leg, Lynn held onto the ankle and slid it clean off, not even bothering to untie it first.

Then, her hand moved towards the bottom hem of his jeans. Upon clutching it between her fingers and giving a slight tug upwards, Clyde's eyes burst upon as he thrust his hand out.

"Wait!" he cried, as if he knew where she was going with this. "Won't that make it worse?"

Lynn rolled her eyes and chuckled. "Clyde, trust me, okay? I'm a professional. Just ask anyone in my house, and they'll tell you that L.J.'s got the magic touch."

As far as she was concerned, the fact that he didn't raise another objection was him giving her permission to move forward.

She did so, taking her time and minding Clyde's reactions—any time he'd wince and hiss, she'd pause before shifting the fabric again.

Finally, it was bunched up at his knee, revealing the clenching spasms that gnawed at his calf muscle. They throbbed in small bursts, cinching inward until Lynn could faintly see the outline of his tibia.

Lynn gave Clyde one last look, her heart trembling with empathy at the sight of his pained expression, before she forced his leg to bend up slightly. With ample space between the bench and his calf, she could slip one hand within the space and clutch onto his calf without a problem.

Her other hand was just as active—it was grabbing his foot and pushing it forward, the toes slightly bending from the pressure.

From there, nothing but the call of the birds and the distant laughter of playful children filled her ears. As soon as her other hand started kneading the calf, the hissing and groaning stopped.

It was just as she figured. She couldn't call herself a star player of any respect if she didn't know any self-therapeutic techniques for ailments such as this. Clyde's incident was just a drop in the bucket of experiences she had with patching people up with nothing but her talented fingers.

They were no doubt leaving blazing trails of lingering pleasure in their wake, given the way Clyde's mouth drooped in a sleepy smile.

"See? What'd I tell ya?" Lynn asked with a smirk. "Am I good or what?"

She wasn't really expecting an answer from someone who was clearly sailing on cloud nine, but his peaceful face gave her all the satisfaction that she needed to carry on in silence.

By now, the cramps were relaxed into submission, but Lynn figured she'd go on for at least a few more minutes. Clyde had earned a little pampering after keeping up with her and Lincoln for as long as he did.

At last, she had full confidence that she had mended his leg back to full use. She'd have to let him know to eat some bananas and drink plenty of fluids once he got home—just to keep a potential charley horse at bay—but her job was otherwise done.

She slipped her hand away from his calf, sparing him a quick look as she did so...

And found him dozing off.

Lynn surely wasn't accounting for that, but this wasn't something that could throw her for a loop. She was pretty good at this, after all.

Still, there was the matter of getting Clyde home. Waking him up and sending him on his way seemed cruel after sending him to dreamland. That could only mean one thing to Lynn, and the realization forced her to shake her head and laugh.

"Looks like I gotta carry him over my shoulder again. Oh well. It's a living."

And quite frankly, it was a living she could get used to. Besides, it would make for a good workout.