Carlso is a kid who lives a few doors down. He comes around to spar with Trevanti, who is trying to teach him to defend himself, and to beg for work for a few dollars. He's actually willing to work hard, and 'things' don't leave the house with him.
Yesterday Raederle came in and told me that Carlos was going to be disfigured if I didn't do something. Seems he had failed to defend himself when Trevanti didn't expect it, and wound up with his lip cut horribly. As in, I could hardly even look at it. It gives a whole new meaning to 'split lip.' Raederle thought I was going to put a bandaid on it.
Well, she had reason to think so. When my brother managed to cut his forehead with an axe, we pulled it together with tape. (Of course, we were camping out in the middle of the wilderness at the time.) And when my son bared a shoulder bone, we pulled *that* together with tape. There wasn't any insurance.
Whole different category. This was not something tapable. So I took him to the hospital. Ooops. Got to have parental permission.
Of course, if a parents decision is to let a 16 year old who nearly died of chemotherapy attempt to deal with cancer by diet and exercise, then we don't need a parents permission at all. But to sew up a kid's lip so that he isn't disfigured for life, you have to locate his druggy mother who kicked him out of the house three days ago and isn't home and can't be found.
We got lucky, the hospital decided to allow treatment, and the plastic surgeon who was on call happened to know Carlos, so he went ahead. By 2:00 am I had him back to the friend's house who's letting him sleep there.
Boy, is that ever making a long story short!