About an hour before the sun rose she heard someone walking down the hall. She was able to gauge where the sound came from and surmised it was Sweetie. She wanted to rush out of the room and talk to her, but Rosaline was too nervous. Being shy around someone has been new to her. The feeling of butterflies in her stomach whenever she sees Sweetie’s face has been jarring but also elating and wonderful.
She allowed herself to cry once more, alone in the dark, silently to herself. After the sun had been up, for what she estimated to be about thirty minutes, she woke Mikey. She didn’t want to face anyone, and she didn’t want Mikey to have to say any goodbyes.
She and Mikey gather their things, a light load, creep out of their room, tip-toe down the hall, and descend the stairs for the last time. Knowing she couldn’t handle a final look around, Rosaline made a beeline for the front door.
As they pass the kitchen Mikey notices the table is set for two. He tugs on Rosaline’s sleeve, alerting her to the strange occurrence. A shirt lay bunched up on the table between the two plates. A plain white shirt, one Rosaline remembers seeing Sweetie wear. On the shirt the words ‘You can’t leave hungry’ have been written in strawberry juice
Even through the aroma of the sweet fruit Rosaline can smell the effervescent Latina’s singular scent. It is at once a comfort and a sadness. She pulls the shirt away from her face, now noticing the odd look the little boy is giving her. She shakes away those feelings.
“I guess we should eat, huh?” she says, looking down at Mikey.
Craving the sweet food, the child doesn’t respond, instead hurrying to the table and grabbing a handful of strawberries. Rosaline joins him, savoring the food she knows Sweetie touched.
After they finish their breakfast Rosaline takes the rag from the bucket on the counter next to the sink and cleans the plates. Her gazes moves up to the window that resides above the sink. She scans over the farm, taking in the beauty of this settlement. She sees the barn doors open and Sweetie walk out. She’s carrying water pails, Rosaline knew this was on her chore list, and was hoping to catch a glimpse of her.
Upon seeing the familiar woman, Rosaline’s eyes beam, only briefly, before her stomach turns and despair sets in again. She watches Sweetie for a long moment, relishing in the wondrous aura that swirls around her. It isn’t long before something else catches her eye, it’s slight and slow, and she’s barely able to glimpse it before the barn blocks her view.
Her eyes twitch and readjust, trying to find the oddity again. Mikey moves to her, but she shows her palm to him, halting the question he was surely about to ask. She squints, studying the back corner of the barn intently.
A dizzying horror bounds upon her as her initial suspicion is confirmed, there is a diseased on the farm. The infected is on the other side of the barn, swaying ever so slightly in and out of her view. Sweetie isn’t more than twenty yards away from it, and she doesn’t appear to be aware of its presence.
Without her gaze moving, Rosaline unstraps her backpack with purpose, and lays it on the counter. She retrieves, and equips, the gloves and goggles. She removes the hammer and grips it tightly. She softly speaks to Mikey, her eyes still fixated on the unwelcomed guest outside.
“Go upstairs, wake everyone up, gather them together in a room, lock the door, and tell them a diseased is outside. I’m gonna go get Sweetie and send her to you, then I’m gonna kill that thing.”
The child doesn’t hesitate or question her, he leaves her side with haste, making his way to the stairs. Just as he is about to take his first ascending step Rosaline calls to him again.
“Make sure it’s Sweetie before you open the door.”
He nods knowing she can’t see it, and that she doesn’t need to. She listens for the creaking of his footsteps on the stairs, and once she hears it she rushes to the back door.
She doesn’t waste any time exiting the house and getting to the corner. She takes a deep, heavy breath, then peers around the building. Sweetie is halfway between the house and barn, sitting on a stump, cleaning the buckets. Her back is to Rosaline, making this more difficult than she would like.
She can’t call out to her. She can’t make any noticeable noise. She can’t sneak up on her, in case she frightens the unaware woman. She can’t grab her from behind, Sweetie would surely struggle, and a bucket could get knocked about.
Rosaline puts her finger to her lips and slowly begins approaching Sweetie. All she can do is hope she catches the Puerto Rican’s attention, and that her first instinct will be to trust Rosaline, and not freak out at the sight of the goggled hammer wielder.
She gently kicks up dirt as she closes the distance between them, hoping the sound will be enough to catch Sweetie’s attention. For the time being luck swings to her side, and Sweetie pivots on her make shift stool to see the petite warrior advancing toward her.
Rosaline stops, her finger still to her lips. She’s relieved to see Sweetie’s brow curl as she remains silent. Rosaline slowly pats at the air, palm down, then points to the barn, and finally, with her fingers, beckons Sweetie to come to her.
The Latina gingerly places the bucket on the ground, and rises from her seated position. She slowly paces toward the awaiting woman. When she is in range, Rosaline extends her hand, and Sweetie takes it without question. Rosaline pulls her
