The Journal: Crimson Skies: (The Journal Book 3)

by Deborah D. Moore

“He has recovered fully from the flu. Recovering from losing Doris will take much longer,” Sister Margaret said solemnly. “And on behalf of the other Sisters, I want to thank you and Dr. Mark for all you’ve done. As much as Doris was willing to do, without the doctor, Father Constantine would have died, we know this.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “We won’t forget, and neither will God, how thoughtful you were with Sister Doris. One of our greatest desires is to have Last Rites at our passing. That she was granted this means everything to us.”

  CHAPTER 41

  December 1

  I was getting a fire going in the stove when Mark came down the hall.

  “Did we drink a lot of wine last night or something equally stupid? I feel like crap.” He plopped down in the kitchen chair.

  “We did have wine with dinner, only one glass each though,” I brushed a wayward lock of curly hair off his forehead. “Mark, you’re hot.”

  “Thank you sweetheart, you’re hot too.” He sniffled.

  “No, I mean fever hot.” I put my hand fully across his dry forehead. He was burning up. I retrieved his little black bag and pulled out the thermometer. I poured a small amount of rubbing alcohol in a glass and swished the thermometer in it, and then shook it a few times. After seeing it was down, I stuck it in Mark’s mouth.

  After a couple of minutes, I took it back and read it.

  “Mark, you have a fever of 103. You’re sick.” My voice trembled and my hands started shaking.

  He looked at me with such disbelief, I handed the glass tube to him so he could read it, just as he sneezed.

  “No wonder you’ve been so tired lately, you’ve been fighting coming down with… this,” I said, not wanting to say the word flu. “You need some antibiotics and back to bed!”

  “I was to relieve James today. He’s been working around the clock and needs a break,” Mark said, putting his head down on his arms.

  I retrieved a vial from the refrigerator that I knew was an antibiotic, and pulled a syringe from the box beside it. I filled it and stabbed Mark in the arm. He didn’t seem to notice. Then I poured a half glass of water.

  “Mark, you have to sit up for me and drink some water.” I coaxed him upright in the chair and held the glass while he drank. “Now, let’s get you back to bed.”

  It was difficult getting him down the narrow hall. I felt like I was supporting all of his weight and dragging him. If this was the flu everyone else had, it hit Mark hard and fast.

  I managed to get him back into our bed, though he fought me when I tried to prop him up.

  “I just want to lie down and sleep, Allex.”

  “All this time I’ve been listening to you tell every one of your patients that you can’t lay completely down, you have to stay at a forty-five degree angle. Now do it!” He was finally compliant and I pushed both pillows behind his back, but the angle wasn’t enough. He coughed. The phlegm was pink.

  ~~~

  “Is there anyone listening?” I said into the FRS radio.

  “I’m here, Mom,” Eric said. “What’s up?”

  “I need some help.” I hesitated to get him involved but I didn’t have much choice. “Come with an N-99 mask and double gloved, Mark is sick.”

  “I’ll be right there,” he said after a momentary silence.

  ~~~

  Eric was still affixing his mask standing at the door. I waited until he was done, then I opened it. He had a very worried and scared look in his eyes.

  “I need to get Mark sitting up more in bed. I think one of the couch cushions should do it, but I can’t move that and him too.” I looked at my son. “I don’t want you touching him; just put the cushion in place. I’m already exposed; I don’t want you to be!”

  It didn’t take long. I grabbed Mark’s wrists and pulled; he offered no resistance. Eric angled the cushion then backed away. I pulled the blankets up around Mark’s chest and walked out with Eric.

  “Mom… how are you feeling?” he asked, his voice trembling.

  “Tired and worried,” I answered. “I so want to give you a hug, but I can’t! I know I’m sick too, maybe a day or two behind.” I let the tears flow. Eric reached for me and I backed away. “No! Don’t touch me! I gave Mark some antibiotics. I just hope it isn’t too late,” I choked on those words.

  “Have you had any yet?” Eric asked quietly.

  “No, not yet. Let me show you which vial and how to do it… just in case.”

  Just in case I’m too sick to do it for myself. Just in case this sickness spreads to your family. Just in case. I said it all in my head, but not out loud, never out loud.

  “And don’t touch anything!”

  I gave myself a shot in the thigh while Eric watched, nodding that he understood what to do. I put the vial back in the refrigerator, away from the rest, and set the syringe in the jar of alcohol. Although they were designed for one time use, we didn’t have that luxury.

  “This is my syringe. I will keep Mark’s in the other room. Now, go home, throw away these gloves and mask, and take a shower, wash your clothes. You don’t want to be accidently carrying this back with you.”

  “Mom… I love you,” my son broke down and cried.

  “I love you too. I love all of you! I will use the FRS to call tonight around six o’clock. Now go. I’m going to fix some soup.”

  While I still can.

  ~~~

  I heard the pounding, but felt it was more in my brain than on the door. I raised my aching head from my arms where I had been resting on the table. Everything hurt. I saw a shadow at the door, raising a fist to start pounding again. I lifted the mask that dangled around my neck and settled it over my nose and mouth before I opened the door.

  “Oh, thank God you’re here! I need the doctor right away!”

  “Judi, right? What’s the problem?” I coughed lightly.

  “It’s Marci, my daughter; she’s gone into labor and something is wrong!” she cried. I remembered the case: Marci, a sweet, petite blond, had just turned thirteen and was walking home from school in Marquette when she was attacked and gang raped. Now she was pregnant and about to deliver.

  “I’m sorry, the doctor is sick. He can’t help you.”

  “I don’t care, she needs him! I think the baby is stuck!” she wailed.

  “You don’t understand. The doctor is sick, very sick, with this flu. When he’s awake he’s delirious and can’t function. Go see Dr. James.” I really did feel sorry for her.

  “No one can find him,” she sobbed angrily.

  “Maybe Gray can help.”

  She looked at me with sad brown eyes. “Gray died two days ago. If I can’t find her help, Marci will die too.”

  “Just do the best you can,” I answered her and as I went into a fit of coughing I closed and locked the door.

  ~~~

  Mark’s breathing was so strained, and I felt so helpless that I kicked the cushion out from behind him and wedged myself in place. I sat with Mark’s head and shoulders in my lap, trying to ease his labored breathing, his dark, sweat drenched hair resting against my chest, and I held him until his breathing slowed then stopped. I laid down beside him and curled my feverish body around his cooling one and cried until I had nothing left, and then I cried some more.

  I fell into a deep sleep while my body burned, and woke drenched in sweat. My fever had broken and I felt somewhat better until I turned and saw the still body of my husband on the other side of the bed. I let the tears flow one more time for my loss. We had only four months together, and it wasn’t nearly enough.

  December 2

  I struggled to sit up, knowing I must. I stood on shaky legs and wrapped my robe around my shoulders, making my way to the kitchen.

  After starting a fire in the wood stove, I set coffee to brew. Everything I did felt mechanical, and it felt all wrong. I was empty inside.

  A chill was creeping into my bones from the sweat damp pajamas, so I retrieved fresh clothes from the back room, averting my ey
es from the bed as I passed. In the shower, I set it on hot to ease the aches in my muscles, though it would not ease the ache in my heart. As I washed the greasy, sick sweat from my body and hair I knew that others still needed me and I must pull myself together. There were things that needed doing. Mark still needed me too, one last time.

  After one glance in the mirror, I avoided looking at my haunted reflection. My eyes were bloodshot and swollen from my tears, my face splotchy and thin from the lack of food.

  Dressed in flannel pants and a long sleeved t-shirt, I poured some coffee and headed to the table.

  The coughing from the other room startled me and sent my full coffee cup crashing to the floor.

  In the bedroom it was a shock to see Mark leaning over the side of the bed, coughing. I reached him in time to keep him from tumbling to the floor. He spat out a glob of dark brown phlegm onto the towel I had covering his chest.

  “Oh, that hurt,” he murmured. I held him, speechless. “Can you help me sit up?”

  I stuffed some pillows behind him and pulled the covers tightly around him, still not having spoken a word.

  “You look better,” Mark said. “How long was I asleep?”

  “Mark,” I couldn’t find the words I needed.

  “What’s wrong, Allex?”

  “I thought… I thought you were dead,” I whimpered. He stared at me, disbelieving. “You stopped breathing and I couldn’t find a pulse. That was almost twelve hours ago.”

  “I see. Well that might explain the strange dreams. I found myself here, yet not here. You were crying, weren’t you?” he stroked my cheek as I nodded. “I didn’t hear you and I couldn't really see you, but I… felt your anguish. Allex, I think I was in a coma.”

  “Do your vitals slow that much while in a coma?”

  “For some, it’s possible,” Mark closed his eyes for a few moments. When he opened them again, the cloudy confusion was gone and the deep blueness had returned. “I wasn’t ready to leave you.”

  I helped him to the bathroom and turned on the water for the shower he asked for. While he was bathing I retrieved his gray and burgundy flannel pants from a drawer, along with a gray t-shirt. I smiled when I remembered him wearing these the first night he came to stay here.

  “Oh, that feels so much better,” he said toweling his hair. He sat in the chair across from me and I poured him some coffee. “I’m so sorry you had to go through this, Allex, it must have been frightening.”

  “It was, Mark. I have never felt so hollow in my life.” I reached across the table and took his cool hand in mine. He yawned.

  “Even though I slept for over twelve hours, I’m exhausted. I think I’ll go lay back down for a while. I love you, Allex, I always will, until death do us part.”

  “I love you too, Mark, until death do us part,” I answered with our personal affirmation. I watched as he made his way down the hall and disappeared around the corner.

  ~~~

  I raised my head off of my arms. I had a crick in my neck and my forearms were numb from sleeping like that for so long. I sat up, feeling a bit dizzy. The room was cold; the fire in the stove must have gone out. I looked around, and our coffee cups were gone. I must have cleared the table without thinking about it.

  The sun was starting to set. I must have been sleeping for hours! I should wake Mark and fix us something to eat.

  In our bedroom, Mark was lying there… just as he had been this morning; he was even still in his pajamas, not his flannels. I brushed my fingers across his cheek. He was icy cold. I felt my knees give out and I clutched the edge of the bed. Kneeling beside him, I laid my head on his still chest and cried.

  I had wanted to tell him one last time that I loved him so much that I had hallucinated his recovery.

  Mark was dead. Death had parted us.

  I slipped my father’s wedding band from his cold hand and put it back in the glass box. Then I took off my mother’s ring and put it away too.

  ~~~

  It was only five o’clock, still, I had to call my sons.

  “Hey, Mom, how are you feeling?” Eric asked quietly.

  “I’m doing better. My fever broke last night,” I replied, trying to keep my voice even.

  “How is Dr. Mark?”

  I sniffled and swallowed the lump in my throat. “He’s… he’s gone. I need you and Jason to come over please.” I heard the radio go quiet and moments later I saw them both running across the yards.

  I handed them both gloves and a mask, saying, “I don’t know how long the contamination lasts. We can’t be too careful.” I led them into the bedroom where Mark lay in his forever sleep. I heard Jason take a sobbing breath.

  “Not now, Jason, please. There will be time for it later. You start crying now and I might never stop, so please, be strong for me.”

  I pulled the top sheet completely off and let it fall to the floor. I handed Eric one of my old massage sheets and together we spread it out on the floor beside the bed. Ever so gently the two of them lifted the stiffening body and lowered it onto the sheet. Once it was folded over they each lifted an end and we walked the body into the living room, where Mark would wait on the futon until we had a grave ready to receive him.

  “I’m sure he will be fine there until tomorrow,” I said in a monotone. “I want him buried here, not in the mass pit, not in the cemetery, here in the front lawn. I don’t know how hard the digging will be, but I think the three of us can get that done.” I paused, thinking. “I suppose Dr. James should come and pronounce him, though there isn’t any doubt.”

  “I’ll take care of that,” Eric said, and after giving his brother a silent message, he left.

  ~~~

  “Do you want coffee or tea, Mom?” Jason asked politely. He was busy rebuilding the fire in the stove.

  “Neither. I’m going to have a glass of rum.” I dropped two ice cubes in a short glass and filled it halfway with my spiced rum. I tipped it up and felt it burn all the way down, and then I poured another one, which sat on the table while the ice melted.

  ~~~

  James knelt down beside Mark’s corpse and searched for a heartbeat with his stethoscope.

  “I’m very sorry for your loss, Allexa. The doctor will be missed by all,” he said. I could only nod. His condolences said it all.

  “Yesterday, or the day before, I don’t remember, the woman with the pregnant daughter came here looking for Mark. She said no one could find you. Where were you?” I asked.

  “Lenny came for me. One of the women at Mathers Lake had fallen and went into labor,” James said. “I was there all night. It was a rough delivery; the baby is fine though. He’s a bit small, only five pounds, and healthy. Mother and son are resting comfortably.”

  “What about Judi’s daughter, Marci? I told her to find Gray since Mark was so sick. She said Gray died two days ago.” My days were getting confused.

  James looked down at his hands and shook his head.

  “Without anyone who knew how to turn a breach baby, Judi tried pulling the baby out. Both Marci and the baby died,” he said. “The loss of her daughter was too much for her to deal with. No one knows where Judi is now.”

  “And Gray?”

  “He’d been helping the Sisters at the camp. The virus mutated and those who caught it were overwhelmed quickly.” I could hear the sadness in his voice.

  “How sad. We gain one new life and lose three.” That empty feeling was creeping in again.

  “Eric told me that Dr. Mark will be buried here tomorrow once a grave can be dug. I’m going to give you a single sleeping pill for tonight. You’re going to need your rest to face the day.” He handed Jason the pill and left.

  Jason set a bowl of hot soup in front of me. I tried to tell him I wasn’t hungry.

  “Eat! Damn it! Do you want to have a relapse? We can’t lose you too!” he said, smacking his hand on the table, causing the soup to slosh, and then he stormed out.

  I forced myself to eat the soup, all of it
. Jason’s outburst made me feel guilty. I took the pill with a gulp of rum. Tufts came out and pawed at my leg, wanting in my lap. I hugged and cuddled him until I became drowsy.

  December 3

  Even with the sleeping pill Dr. James had left for me, I slept fitfully. When I did manage to doze off, my dreams were dark and foreboding.

  Eric was there early to make sure the stove was lit and coffee was brewing and that I was up and moving with no relapse of the flu that took Mark from me.

  “We started digging an hour ago, Mom. There’s lots of rock so it’s slow progress, but we will be done by early afternoon,” he said, sitting down across from me after handing me a cup of coffee. He searched my face and my lip quivered. “We set the burial for three o’clock. I hope it’s okay we made that decision.” I nodded. I really didn’t care.

  They finished digging at two o’clock and went home to shower. Amanda came across a few minutes later.

  “Hi, Mom,” she said quietly, and then burst into tears. “I’m sorry; I told myself I wasn’t going to do that.” She wiped her eyes with a hanky, her hands were trembling. “I’m supposed to make sure you take a shower and get dressed. People will be starting to show up in a half hour or so.”

  “What people?” I asked.

  “Half the town wanted to come and the colonel said no. Father Constantine will be here with the Sisters, and Mr. White, Dr. James and the colonel. I don’t know who else.” She led me to the bathroom and turned the water on for my shower. “I’m going to get you some clothes.”

  The hot water felt good on my skin. I let it cascade across my face, washing the tears away that kept escaping.