Yet as I am about to shove the money into my pocket, I imaginelittle Alice stepping into the office. What emotion would I smell on her if shecaught me stealing from her father? Anger, loathing? And she would be right tofeel so. I’m betraying the one man who hasn’t hurt me. Kelly has only been myfriend and this is how I repay him.
Filled with guilt, I put all the money back but two bills, thinkingof what I’d say if Alice were here and I had the ability to speak to her. Sheprobably wouldn’t understand if I told her to stay as she is: a good, sweetgirl. To remain as untouched by this world as long as she can.
And never be like this, like me.
Wiping the mingled tears and sweat from my face, I close thedrawer and leave the house. The pharmaceutical emporium isn’t far, just downthe street. Nausea twists my stomach, and I gag again. I extend my hand beforeme, trying to keep pace with the people on the sidewalk. Horses and wagons passby at a fast clip, and I can’t gauge the distance of the oncoming traffic.Everything is loud, too loud. Stepping off the curb, I move forward cautiouslyand a carriage nearly runs me over. So close. A gust of air whirls around myface in its wake.
The smell of headache powder and liniment is strong up ahead.Finally, the Emporium. I walk inside and bump into a man standing a few feetfrom the door. His inner happiness is sickening. Damn my gift of olfaction—thescent of flowers makes me retch.
“Ill?” he asks. “Take my place in line.”
I shake my head. The brain inside feels larger than the skull,as though it’s pushing out through my ears. Leave me alone—too cheerful.Someone on my left keeps talking to his coworker about taking a dinner break.Can’t you be quiet? Go to dinner, or not. No one cares either way.
Nausea strikes again, nearly knocking me to the ground. I movein the direction of the employee’s voice, and run into a marble countertop. Kelly’smoney in hand, I rest my head on the cool stone.
“This station’s closed,” the clerk says.
I wave the two dollars, without moving my head from the marble,but he gets up and leaves.
Don’t need you, blasted clerk. I’ll find it myself. Feelingwoozy, I stand upright, climb up on the counter and lean over it. I can’t makemy body move. Someone stands behind me, hands on my leg. Is it the police? Arethey taking me to jail for stealing the money? No. I won’t go with you. I kickat the person holding my leg but strong hands lift me off the counter. My feethit the floor, yet I can’t move or run away. Still gripping my arms, the handsdraw me back until my shoulder blades press against a solid chest. I smellcitrus, pine, and sandlewood.
“Never mind,” Kelly tells the returning pharmacy clerk. “Wedon’t need your assistance after all.” The doctor turns me toward the door andhalf-carries me outside. “I must admit, you look better in my trousers than Ido.”
He’s trying to be funny, but I’d choose hitting him oversmiling. I want assistance even if Kelly doesn’t—that damn clerk needs to getthe bloody laudanum. We walk along the sidewalk for a moment, back toward hishouse.
No, I sign. Stop.
Kelly continues pushing me forward. He doesn’t understand the gnawinginside. I’d do anything for relief. My lips move, forming word shapes as sweatdrips off my chin. I can’t, throat feels so tight. “P-please.”
He stops in his tracks. “Was that you? Did you speak?”
I feel Kelly’s surprise. It ripples through me like an electriccurrent on a telegraph wire. He pulls me closer, hands on my hips—his ear nextto my mouth. “Do it again.”
We are standing in the center of the sidewalk, people passingus at random. My throat burns, constricting painfully. Don’t want to, Kelly.Don’t make me. “Please,” I finally beg. “Need—”
Kelly steps back a pace and gently takes my hand. “Sweetheart,I know exactly what you need. Let’s go home and see you get it.”
The doctor leads and I follow, without any further thoughts ofrebellion. I cover my aching head with my hands as he asks his housekeeper fora jug of drinking water, a ceramic basin, and towels. Then Kelly takes meupstairs to his room.
He removes the hat from my head. “Sit on the mattress.”
I do as he says, and Kelly slides his boots off my feet.
“Lie down, Hester.”
I curl up like a babe in the womb, and a soft blanket is drapedover me, ripping the skin from my bones. No, not true. My flesh is still intact,it just feels as though it’s being scraped asunder. And cold, so cold. O diimmortales. I’m back in the treatment room at Ironwood. No, never again.I’ll die this time. The icy liquid covers my face, and I claw it away, coughingand sputtering. “Answer my questions,” Faust whispers.
The waking nightmare ends, and I grow lucid, back in Kelly’sbedroom. I shudder and retch into the basin. When the nausea passes, I hear himpour a small amount of water into a cup. “Rinse your mouth and spit,” he says,holding the glass to my lips.
Soon he is wiping my brow as someone weeps and gags. “Don’tworry. I won’t leave you, Hester.”
My journey through the valley of the shadow of death takesnearly a week, and Kelly is with me every step.
Shivering is one of the worst symptoms—and the hallucinations,the constant, sickening stomach ache, the veering from hot to cold, thechattering teeth and muscle spasms. At my sickest, Kelly whispered things Icannot utter, words so kind the mere memory of them causes me to tear up,filled with a gratitude so raw as to be painful. No man has ever spoken to meso, and I doubt one ever will again—including Kelly himself. Some situationscall for a heroism never to be duplicated thereafter.
During my coherent moments, he described how the toxins of abad drug are flushed from one’s system. Nevertheless,
