I got him under the trees, sitting with his back against a trunk of one of the trees. I pulled off his backpack and handed it to him. He opened it to see what had been damaged or destroyed in the fall. I took off his right shoe and sock as he grimaced.
His ankle and part of his foot had started to swell and turn colors.
I said, “Why don’t you scoot around here so that you can rest your leg on an incline.”
Nate did as I suggested. I gently felt his foot. He gave me a dirty look. “That hurts,” he said. “But it’s not broken. I don’t think.”
He pulled out his phone and tried calling out.
“Nothing,” he said. “Goddamn it.”
“I need to check to see if you’re hurt anywhere else,” I said.
“Everywhere hurts,” he said.
He lifted his shirt. I didn’t see any bruising. I went to the other side an
