Connie
The trip exhausted me more than I was expecting. Despite the great physical tiredness, I felt so relieved, because the tree was really there. I wouldn’t have been too pleased if it’d turned out we’d been hiking for nothing. It meant more for Dad and Ruby’s future than they knew, and I was glad that they could explore the way to it beforehand…
After getting back to the farm–just a few more steps, come on, you can do this–I decided against dinner or a shower and went straight to bed. I’d probably been a bit too hasty in my return to normal activities. What was I thinking, going on a hike before I’d recovered completely?
I fell asleep at once, and woke up a little later only because Ruby was cuddling up to me. And then my dream continued, uninterrupted.
At first I had no idea what had woken me up; some inner mechanism must have pushed me to open my eyes. When I did, I saw Dad standing in the door. I didn’t hear him knock, something he always did. Could I have slept through it? I was all bleary-eyed from sleep, but something in his eyes and stiff posture made me shake my head to get some of the sleep out.
A mistake! Damn, that was a terrible mistake, I moaned internally. Tiny wrecking balls were pounding away at the inside of my skull.
What’s happening? Why is Dad looking at me so sadly? He had exactly the same expression you put on, when you’re about to give someone some bad news…
“Dad?” I wheezed, and the single syllable pushing through my throat was enough to send me into a violent coughing fit. My throat was on fire, but the worst was happening in my lungs. The buffalo was back in its place on my chest, and it brought some friends. I had a curious, unpleasant sensation of my lungs being crushed into pieces, never to take a breath again, while also being stretched out and about to explode.
“I thought you were getting better,” he sighed and stepped closer. Was I mistaken, or were there tears in his eyes? “You were coughing like this all night. I put Ruby into my room, it was waking her up.”
Really? I wanted to ask, but couldn’t force the word out. How could I have gotten so much worse in just a few hours?
These two facts, the current state of my health and what Dad told me about coughing the night away, started to blend into one…
I’d heard it said that when sick, one had to get worse before getting better. Apparently, this particular form of pneumonic plague worked the other way around. It eased up, so I could start hoping again, thinking that maybe I could make it through and survive, stay with Dad and Ruby until the cancer ended my life… But then all the plague symptoms returned, more intense than before.
I cursed the two days of relief, because they allowed me to hope for a better tomorrow, and for more tomorrows than I’d been expecting. Right now I couldn’t even turn around, let alone get out of bed. I felt so dreadful, it made me wonder if I’d see any tomorrow at all.
Frank
As soon as I woke up this morning, I knew that our day trip was over. Connie was so sick she could barely move. I wanted to be there to look after her. Her fever and shallow breath terrified me. Not that I hadn’t seen her sick before, after all she has been through breast cancer, and chemo certainly didn’t leave her singing and dancing. But to see her so weak again, so pale, shaking from the cold while sweating with fever…
Plus, I didn’t feel like going out into town since, according to the morning news and newspapers, the flu situation has gotten significantly worse. The warm and kind attitude to strangers we’d been used to here was suddenly nowhere to be seen. I didn’t witness this firsthand, but the news was full of people panicking and fighting for food and other necessities. Darlene, the farm owner, had also confirmed it after going to the shop in the morning.
“The world’s gone mad,” she mumbled under her breath while slicing up fresh bread she’d managed to buy. Apparently almost the last one on the shelf which usually remained stocked until late afternoon. “I don’t want to be a pessimist, but starting tomorrow you’ll probably have to make do with fruit and eggs from our hens here, Frank.”
On top of that, it looked like she was starting to be too sick to go to the shop anymore. How was Hugh feeling, anyway? I hadn’t seen him at all since that first evening.
“That’s alright. We’ll make do.” Maybe except for Ruby. I didn’t mind skipping meals, but my granddaughter wouldn’t go hungry.
“Doesn’t Connie want breakfast?” Darlene looked over to the guest bedrooms, where my daughter was sweating into her duvets like a marathon runner.
I looked over as well and considered asking for a number for the local doctor. Or hospital. “She’s not feeling too good…”
“Neither is Hugh,” she replied sympathetically. “He took care of the animals in the morning and then went straight back to bed.”
Her hand holding the knife paused over the bread. Was she considering cutting some for her husband, or was she just lost in thought? If she was anything like me, it was about the flu which had mysteriously taken over the entire world.
In the end, Darlene put the knife away. “What’s on for today?”
Ruby looked up, eyes shining, ready for the next adventure.
“We’ve been pretty busy so far, I was thinking that we could have a lazy day today,” I said and watched the girl’s reaction. Looking at
