Chapter 6- I Can Fix You
Gabriel was almost as impressed as Peter. The two men stood looking up at the new tree house they had made complete with a roof thatched with fern fronds and a ladder that could be retracted at night. Neither man thought they were capable of constructing anything like it since they had no need for knowledge like that back in New York. Gabriel had to climb a lot and balance carefully to get the frame in place, but he took his time and made sure each support beam was sturdy and tightly lashed with the multicolored wire they had pulled from the fuselage. For his part, Peter tirelessly searched the surrounding area for branches that were the right size and in good condition before dragging them back to Gabriel and lifting them over his head. By the end of the project Peter was tired and sore, but he imagined Gabriel felt the same, so he kept it to himself. He didn't want to seem like a whiner.
In the end, they had a nice place to sleep approximately 10 feet off the ground and 6 feet square far enough from the wreckage that they would not be bothered by the stench of death that would soon begin to permeate the area, but close enough that they could still be rescued when they came. Gabriel thought that 10 feet would be enough to deter any large animals that may accidently find them. After all, he reasoned, house cats are incredibly lazy so there was no reason to think that a Jaguar would waste the time jumping or climbing to get them when it could easily find a meal a hundred or so yards away. Peter had never owned a cat, or any pet for that matter, so he couldn't verify the assumptions.
Night was fast falling and the two men were exhausted. Gabriel started a fire with leftover building materials, scraps of magazines, and a lighter they had found. It wasn't that it really got too cold at night, but there was something comforting about the warm glow that made it all seem worth it. While Peter was looking down to watch Gabriel at work, he noticed something he didn't like. He had seen them before, when he was dragging him along with every ounce of strength he could muster. Gabriel's shirt slipped up and Peter saw two long, jagged gashes along his back. They didn't look too bad at the time, or maybe he was just preoccupied, but now they were bleeding and the back of Gabriel's shirt was stained a deep brownish black. He sighed and fished the first aid kit out of the bag that had been casually tossed into a corner. He really hoped Gabriel wouldn't make this all weird.
Gabriel was surprised to see Peter holding the first aid kit in his crossed legs with an intense look on his face when he climbed up on the platform. If he hadn't known the man so well, it might have frightened him. "Dude, it has to be done." Peter said simply.
"What has to be done?" Gabriel asked innocently. "Do you need help? I can do that…"
Peter shook his head. "Not me, you. Take your shirt off and lay down."
Between the hardness in his voice and the fire light that danced off his determined features, Gabriel actually found himself wondering if the smaller man had gone mad. "Me? Why?" He stammered. If Peter had lost his mind, the last thing he was going to do was lay face down in a vulnerable position so he couldn't defend himself.
Peter's features softened as he sighed. "Man, don't make this so difficult. You have some nasty cuts on your back that if you leave them open they will get infected, if they haven't already. Look, it is really no big deal. So, what do you say we just get this over with so we can get on to celebrating your birthday?"
Gabriel looked around the hut nervously. He was aware of the constant stinging sensation coming from his back, but he thought they were just scratches. Even though he knew Peter was making sense, he still found himself reluctant to be in such a weak position. "Um, do I have to lay down? Can you do your thing if I just sit?" To Gabriel being attacked while sitting was still not ideal, but at least it gave him a few more options for defense.
Peter shrugged. "I can try. Just sit with your back to the fire so I can see what the hell I am doing."
Gabriel grabbed the bottom hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, stopping to gasp when the wounds reopened when the scab was pulled away. He held his shirt out in front of him disgusted at the bloody rag before leaning over the edge of the hut to toss it into the fire. He wanted absolutely nothing to do with it, it sickened him at a visceral level. Peter opened the first aid kit and was dismayed at the limited contents. It looked as though the crew didn't keep it properly stocked. But if there was anything that Peter had learned in Costa Rica, it was how to make supplies stretch.
Peter leaned in close and Gabriel tensed ever so slightly. "Dude, I am going to have to touch you to do this." Peter almost laughed. "Relax, I'm not a fag or anything." Not that it was a bad thing, he actually had several gay friends that his parents didn't know about, of course. Hell, some of the kids of the people his parents desperately wanted to impress secretly hung out in the East Village on the weekends to hook up. They were all in denial and Peter could never figure out why.
"Too bad." Gabriel said with a mysterious grin. He was used to being called names, particularly at the public school where everyone accused him of being queer. It caused a lot of fights, not that they really needed an excuse, but he didn't care. The truth was, he was just as into girls as anyone else, but he just couldn't find it in himself to care about who was doing what with who. There seemed to be bigger evils in the world aside from two boys kissing behind the bleachers in his opinion. Or two girls…but that was different because he thought it was kinda sexy.
Peter carefully inspected the wounds and was relieved to see that despite his own contribution, there was very little dirt embedded in his flesh. Some edges of the skin looked as though they were already infected, but it wasn't as bad as Peter had feared. He forewarned Gabriel that it might sting at times when he scrubbed the deepest sections of the laceration and overall, he sat mostly still and took it without complaint. When he was sure the wounds were clean, he carefully placed gauze bandages over the angry line that oozed scarlet. Since he had so few supplies, he had to open the gauze pads to make them stretch further, but it was better than nothing. He then removed an ace bandage and wrapped it around Gabriel's torso because he knew there would not be enough skin tape to do the job; a few inches at best was all that remained on the roll. "See? That wasn't so bad." Peter said pushing his bangs out of his eyes. "Now to the good part. Do you prefer Jack Daniels, Bombay Sapphire, or Captain Morgan's?"
"I don't know," he admitted, "I have never had any of them."
"Me neither." Peter shrugged. "I guess we will just have to try them all." He handed one of the small bottles to Gabriel and lifted his own in a toast. "To the birthday boy. My you live long and never have another birthday suck as much as this one."
Gabriel laughed. This would be the one he could tell his great grandchildren about: the birthday that he spent in a tree house he built, illegally drinking liquor that he had stolen, in the middle of nowhere with a guy he hardly knew after surviving a plane crash. Of course they would laugh at the senile old man, but he would always know better.