“He’sseriously infected,” I told the other two. “I’ll need to clean thisbefore we hit the road. We can’t risk traveling with him in this state. I need cleancloths and hot water. As hot asyou can get it. And some kind of soap, if it’s possible.”
Gus lookedat Finn and nodded his head towardthe door. “Go fetch the lady of the house and see what she can getfor ya.”
“Aye.” Finnnodded and ran off.
I leaned inand cupped little Charlie’s clammy cheek in my hand. He was moreboy than man and it pained me to see him like that, just layingthere, unaware of the world around him and the state he was in. Ilistened to his labored breaths and how they slightly choked asthey passed through his throat. It was a wonder he was stillalive.
“So,” Gusspoke, breaking the silence of the echoing barn. “What happenedback there that night?” I looked over my shoulder, watching as hecame and squatted down next tome.
“It’s a longstory,” I replied. “But, I went back to where I came from.”
His facetwisted in confusion, his big brown eyes pleading. “Why would youjust leave us like that?”
I’d neverwitnessed Gus portray emotion other than anger and sheer discontentfor my existence. We tolerated one another, at best. But there inthe barn, I could see the layer underneath. The layer that actuallydid care for me, considered me family the way I did for him.
“I’m sorry,” Ihonestly told him. “I never meant to do it. It happened byaccident.”
He rubbed hisbeard and nodded, but he still didn’t seem convinced.
“I triedeverything in my power to get back here, though. Please, know that.I sacrificed everything for the slightest chance to come back. If Icould change what happened, I would in a heartbeat.”
“No,” heblurted. “It’s what saved us.”
“Right, yeah,Finn told me.” The tears began to well and I fought them back. “Butdid it really?”
“What do youmean?”
“Look at poorCharlie. And… Henry.” My voice cracked, and I choked on mywords.
Guspatted his hand on my back. “Don’t think like that. Henry’salive. I know it.” He let a pause hang in the air. “And so do you,don’t ya?”
I gave him aweak and quivering smile. “Yeah, I do.”
But, if Mariahad him, being alive may not be a good thing. I imagined him aboardher ship, wishing for death to come and release him from thetorture. A shiver washed over mybody and I stood to get away from it.
“Aye, Lassie,”Finn called from the door. He marched through the barn with a largemetal pan full of steaming hot water, clean linens draped over hisshoulder. He set it down next to Charlie and handed me the whitecloths. “Will this do?”
“Yes, it’sperfect,” I told him. I grabbed an empty milk pail and turned itupside down, placing it next to Charlie and took a seat. First, Irolled up my sleeves as high as they could go and then washed myown skin, paying close attention to the underside of my nails.
Next, I took adeep breath before leaning in to remove his soiled bandages. Allthree of us gagged from the smell. It reminded me of when I finallygot my cast removed from my arm when I’d broken my wrist in juniorhigh. I’d never forgotten theraunchy stench of dead skin and sweat. This was so much worse. Iimagined it to be as close to the smell of a dead body as you couldget without actually being dead. Some scabbing and crusted yellowpuss came away with the bandage, causing fresh blood to fill thewound.
“Good God,”Finn muttered. “The poor bugger.”
“You guys canleave if you want,” I told them.
“Nay,” Finnreplied. “I’ve smelled worse.”
I worked fastand steady, careful not to open the wound too much, but determinedto remove as much of the infection as I could. It was hard, thestitching job that had been done in haste to save Charlie wasjagged and sloppy. I wasn’t sure if it helped or did more harm, butit did keep his skin together.
When I’dfinished, I wiped some of my rubbing alcohol around the wound andthen tore the linens into small strips to wrap around his neck.Through it all, Charlie never budged, never woke up. Lastly, Icrushed up one of my antibiotic pills on an upturned wooden crateand brushed the dust into a warm glass of water that had beensitting there. I tipped the boy’s head back and opened his mouth togently pour the water down. When I was sure it had all slid downhis throat, I stood and turned to find an awestruck Finn andGus.
“We should hitthe road,” I informed them. They never asked questions, never spokea word of the foreign things I’d pulled from my satchel. Somethingdeep inside of me warmed at the thought of how much they must havetrusted me.
Gus found fourscraps of wood, nailed them to the inside corners of the wagon andthen fashioned a canopy from some of the blankets. “There, now wecan sit in the back with the boy and stay hidden on the road.”
The two ofthem jumped in the back and I hopped in the driver’s seat again,grabbing the reins and giving them a sharp flick. We were off,heading back over the road we came in on, only much faster thistime. The high afternoon sun made us vulnerable and I worried theentire way back about the street pirates we encountered. Would theystill be there? Would there be others? Had they kept theirword or did they run off in searchof The Cobhams to tell them all about the black-haired woman and Scot who took them down?
My fearssubsided as the rocky landscape became more and more familiar.Tall,
