How's It By You?

Despite promising Jim that he wouldn’t laugh, John was in stitches by the time Jim had unfolded his story about the events leading to the cause of his injuries. John had learned several things about Jim an hour later when Jim completed the telling of his story.  One, that Jim could spin one heck of a yarn; two, that Jim was, indeed, very, very accident-prone, even more so than he had suspected before.

What had actually happened that accident-prone day to Jim was as follows: A week ago, Jim had visited the salt-water flats in the area where he and John had harvested tubeworms several months ago. As was usual, he was searching for shells to be used as souvenirs. After finding several live whelks, Jim had reached down to grab what he thought was a whelk and yelped out in pain. A large stone crab had fastened its large and very strong claw on Jim’s finger and would not let go, prompting Jim to shake his hand vigorously in an attempt to dislodge the crab. He danced about wildly while issuing a series of profound epithets. To the casual observer, he appeared to be a crazy man dancing about in the water while yelling. To say he was a remarkable sight was an understatement.

Jim was finally able to dislodge the crab, but the crab’s claw was still firmly clamped to his finger and his finger bled profusely from the bad laceration.

   “Dagnabbit it,” he exclaimed as he decided that the day’s treasure hunt was over. He didn’t want the blood that was dripping into the water to attract even worse predators. As he made his way back to the shoreline, carrying the pail with only two whelks in it, Jim didn’t notice a submerged board and stepped on it. In doing so, he promptly impaled his foot on a rusty nail protruding from the board, the nail going completely through the bottom of his boot and out the top of it.

Once again, he yelped out in pain and dropped the pail. With a great deal of painful difficulty, Jim managed to pull his foot off the nail. He rushed back to where he had parked his truck and drove quickly to the nearest hospital emergency room back on the mainland. He didn’t bother to retrieve the pail where he had dropped it. The whelks escaped, and the pail drifted off in the slow current.

When Jim arrived at the emergency room, limping badly, and trailing bloody footprints, he was one incredible sight. The receptionist saw him and immediately called for a doctor and a security guard. Given his odd attire, his disheveled appearance, the comical hat he was wearing, and his pasty white face, she believed he was a crazed derelict. The fact that he had a crab claw attached to a bleeding finger did not help matters.

As Jim was escorted into the treatment room, the doctor on duty was initially alarmed believing the worst. It was understandable when the doctor saw the large crab claw affixed to Jim’s bloody finger that he smiled and shook his head.

The guard, on the other hand, was scowling and had his hand on the holster housing his revolver.