by Rick Kueber
“Oops...sorry!” I said softly, but sincerely.
“You’re welcome.” She was obviously flustered and we both smiled out loud. “I mean...”
“I know.” I realized we were still in each other’s arms.
“What are you doing?” Daniel caught up to us and we were shaken out of the moment.
“Yes.” She said slipping out of my arms. Tucking her hair behind her ear in what was probably the most awkward flirty move I’d ever seen, she knocked on the door. “Miguel?”
Chapter 4
Plagued
The door opened slowly and Miguel stood blank faced and silent. He didn’t weep out loud but his soul cried out so loudly and his sorrow filled the depth of his eyes. Even if I could speak his native tongue, I would have no words worthy of this moment. The four of us stood in the uncomfortable silence and dismal darkness of the sultry night. I touched Mariah on her shoulder to get her attention, afraid to break the silence.
“We’re too late.” She said without my having to ask.
“Are you sure? Shouldn’t we at least check?” My tone was low, but I was not ready to give up so easily.
Mariah nodded and spoke sweetly to Miguel. He spoke no reply, but swung the door open wide on its sprung hinges and walked away from us and into the tiny home. Mariah went first and Daniel and I were close behind. I held my hands crossed in front of me and my head bowed. I had a memory of entering a funeral home with the same composure and body language. It was that helpless feeling that physically took over.
A homemade candle burned in the corner of the room and its flickering light danced across the barren walls and cast an eerie glow on the palate where the young boy’s body lay lifeless. Splotchy dark patches spotted the boy’s exposed face, neck and arms. Moving cautiously, I knelt beside the child, laid my fingers on his neck to check his pulse and placed my hand on his forehead.
“He’s still very warm. He must have been burning up.” I whispered to Mariah.
“He’s had a fever for several days.” She answered.
“And the marks?” I shot back the question to her.
“I’m not sure when the first one showed up, but we noticed that he had a few of them a few weeks ago. Every day another one or two appeared.” She was uncomfortable talking about his illness in front of Miguel. I nodded toward the door and we left Miguel and his son in the small home.
“He isn’t the only one.” She nervously said as soon as we hit the open air of the porch.
“Who else?” I asked, stopping abruptly. “Maybe we can help them.
She looked regretfully into my eyes and unbuttoned the top four buttons of her shirt. Pulling it open to the right, Mariah exposed most of her chest to me. Like her face, it was tanned, supple and flawless...except for a misshapen dark spot on her right breast and a second one just below her collar bone.
“I have others too.” Her eyes watered and glistened in the glow of the dancing firelight. She slid her arms around my neck, pulled me tight against her firm body and pressing her full lips against my ear, whispered ever so softly. “I don’t want to die.”
I kissed her cheek and hugged her tightly. “You don’t have to.”
“Mm Mm.” Daniel cleared his throat loudly and obviously. “What are you doing?” He lowered his eyebrows and glared at me. “Elle?”
“It’s not what it looks like pal.” Even though that was really, mostly, true... I suddenly felt guilty as hell. “Mariah... She’s scared. She has the marks too.”
“Oh.” He was taken aback and I could sense his chagrin. “I just thought... Well her shirt was all...” He glanced around uncomfortably. “So are you gonna help her?”
“Of course I am.” I smiled, trying to lighten the unpleasant situation. “Have your friends bring the boiled rags and bandages to your...place.”
“And one of those ‘very sharp knives’ too.” Daniel added as Mariah trotted away, buttoning up her shirt.
We met back up at the dilapidated shack that Mariah had called home for nearly two years. It was obvious that Mariah was on edge when she arrived with two women who carried a large kettle of steaming water, a large, hand carved wooden spoon and an armload of cotton fabrics. Placing the kettle on the dirt floor near Mariah’s bed as directed, one of the older women made a sign with her right hand touching her forehead and then her heart and bowed her head.
“Now what?” Mariah asked timidly.
“I don’t see a lot of options.” I looked around at the meager furnishings and the tiny bed that was no more than a straw stuffed mattress and a thick hand woven blanket. “I think we should sit here...” I pointed to her bed. “Go ahead and have a seat and I’ll get things ready. Do you have the knife?”
Mariah revealed the blade and her trembling hand passed it to me. I ran my thumb across the edge of the blade and was surprised at its sharpness. I took one of the cloths from the woman and avoiding using tip of the blade, I cut two short slits in one end of it. I dropped the knife into the near boiling pot of water and then ripped the cloth into several strips about three inches wide. I dropped them into the pot as well and motioned for the woman to soak the remaining rags, in hopes that the temperature of the water would kill any bacteria.
I sat down on the bed next to Mariah and placing my hand on her shoulder, I coaxed her to lean back against the wall with me. I took a loud and deep breath and when I exhaled, I leaned over and kissed her forehead.
“This won’t be that bad, and it’s just one night.” I winked at her.
“I’m not saying I’m tough...or brave, but I can do this.” The reassurance was more for her than it was for me.
“Daniel.” I got my young friend’s attention. “Use that spoon to scoop out one of the rags and scrub our forearms down good.”
Daniel didn’t say a word, but went straight into action. He fished out a rag quickly and tossing it back and forth in his hands like a ‘hot potato’, brought it over and began to scour my arm first. I let out a hiss as the scalding rag stung my bare skin. Fortunately for Mariah, the rag was a few degrees cooler when he started scrubbing her down. None the less, she still flinched and let out a grunt of discomfort as she bit her lip. Side by side, hip to hip, our arms were laid out on our legs, upturned beside one another.
“Hand me the knife.” I requested the simple act from my friend, but he struggled to retrieve it from the steamy, blackened kettle using the long wooden spoon. Eventually trapping it against the side he pulled it as high as he could and then snarling his bravest snarl, he stuck his free hand into the scalding water and with a screech of tortuous pain, he withdrew the shining blade. Passing the handle of the knife to me, I could see the reddened, burned skin of his hand. I said nothing but gave him a look of appreciation and understanding of what he had done. I gritted my teeth and pressed the tip of the blade to my arm between my wrist and elbow, cutting an ‘x’ shaped incision about an inch long. I handed the blade back to him as a small stream of crimson trickled down my arm and hand, dripping to the dusty floor at our feet. Daniel dipped the blade back into the kettle and swished it back and forth a few times before offering it to my bed mate.
“I... I don’t think I can do this.” Her voice was shaky, but she knew her options were limited to two: 1) endure a self-inflicted wound, or 2) wait to die. “Screw it.” She grumbled. “Give me the damn knife.” She fidgeted with the knife in her hand, trying to build up the courage.
“I’m not trying to be pushy, but...um...” I wanted her to be comfortable, but I literally didn’t have all night. “I heal really fast and I really, really don’t want to have to do this again.”
“Alright already.” Pressing the blade against her arm she pulled it toward her and made the first cut. “Well, that hurt like a ...grrrr....” She grimaced.
“It’s okay to cuss.” Daniel said what I was thinking. “I can cuss for you if you want.” His words actually made Mariah smile for a second.
“Is that good enough?” She displayed the bleeding cut
on her arm proudly.
“Better finish the ‘x’, just to be sure.” It was the last thing I wanted to say, but it was the truth.
She glared at Daniel and then looked at me and clenching her jaw tight, finished the job she had started. “Son of a bitch!”
I laid my arm on top of hers and held her hand, intertwining our fingers. “Tuck those rags around here.” I pointed to where our arms met and the blood escaped. “Then take those strips I ripped up and tie them around our arms to hold them in place. Daniel did as I said and the women stood as silent and still as statues, watching every move we made and every step in our simple operation. “Not too tight. I want to keep our arms together and the rags in place, but if you tie it too tight, you’ll cut off the circulation and that’d defeat the purpose.” Daniel nodded and tied us together, taking care to keep the cotton strips flat and snug but not constricting. Mariah’s foot and leg bounced up and down frantically.
“It’s not really that bad, I guess.” Her eyes watered and her grip tightened.
“You’re a terrible liar, ya know?” I grinned and laid my head against hers.
The night crept by. Daniel and the two women sat on the floor with their backs against the wall and eventually they all ended up laying on the floor and dozing off. Mariah and I slipped off too, but I couldn’t say who fell asleep first. It was still dark when I awoke.
“Something’s wrong.” I could barely speak. My mouth was dry, my stomach cramped horrendously and I was burning up with a fever. “Hey!” I tried to speak louder but it was futile. I kicked my legs and my whole body felt stiff and ached worse than I could ever remember.
One of the women stirred and when she came to her senses, she scurried across the pitch black room and put her hand on us, where our arms were tied together and quickly jerked it away. “Dios mio!” She exclaimed and quickly woke the other woman. I could hear them chattering away and even though I didn’t understand a single word they spoke, I could hear the worry and despair in their voices. The kettle and the remaining rags had cooled to the ambient air temperature. The two women patted our foreheads with the wet cloths and wiped our faces, necks and arms. One of them began untying our bindings and our blood had coagulated and our wounds were fused together. Try as she might, she could not pull them apart without ripping our incisions open again. Working blind, she split us apart and bandaged our arms separately.
While tying up our reopened cuts, the second woman called out from where Daniel lay sleeping. He, too, was burning with a fever. ‘What is going on?’ I thought to myself through my delirium. I fought to stay awake, but I failed and the last thing I thought before the fever took my consciousness was that if this is what killed me, maybe I wasn’t as invulnerable as I once thought.
When my eyes opened daylight was already creeping in through the dusty air. I felt queasy and even the slightest movement made my head spin. It did seem that my fever had broken and at a glance, it seemed that Daniel was in no better shape. Mariah on the other hand was up and about. She had been keeping a watchful eye on us ever since she had awakened and had sent the village women away. When she noticed I was awake, she knelt down beside me, brushed my tangled hair (which had grown much longer than I liked) from my face.
“Will you be okay for a little while?” Her hand rested on my cheek.
“Mmm.” I could only moan an answer, but she seemed to understand.
“You drank the water from the river, didn’t you?” She tilted her head sympathetically to one side. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
I closed my eyes and laid as still as I could until she returned. When a sound aroused me, I opened my eyes to see Mariah bent down over Daniel and I watched as she fed him something. My stomach turned at the thought of any taste in my mouth.
“Your turn.” She said as she stood up and looked into my eyes...and there it was, that tell-tale glittering green glow. “Just a spoonful.” Sitting down next to me, she curled her arm around my shoulders and dipping a spoonful of an orangey, thick liquid from her cup, put it to my lips. I reluctantly opened my mouth. My expectation was that I would be embarrassed when I vomited all over the floor and probably Mariah, but much to my surprise, this thick goo was pleasant. It was warm and tasted of honey, cinnamon, and citrus with another pungent flavor I couldn’t place. After swallowing the mouthful of sweetness, Mariah moved the cup and spoon away and squeezed onto the tiny bed with me. My thoughts drifted away to Elle and I wondered if she were still alive, if our child had been born yet and if I would ever be able to find her again. My heart belonged to her alone, but the touch and caress of Mariah was comforting and eased my worries.
Sometime around midday, Daniel got up on his feet and stumbled outside. I noticed that I was feeling much better, not back to 100%, but well on my way. I nuzzled up to Mariah and whispered in her ear. “Thank you.”
“You feeling better?” I could almost hear her smile.
“Yes...much better.” My hand wandered down the length of her arm and across her thigh. I pulled away quickly when a pang of guilt shook me. “You?”
“Better than I think I’ve ever felt.” She scrunched her shoulders, wiggled against me and giggled out loud.
“Well, that’s good.” I responded, but I was thinking, ‘Dear god, please don’t do that!’ I closed my eyes and buried my face into the back of her head and her bushy mess of strawberry blonde hair. For that brief moment, I was snuggled up behind Elle on the night in the cabin. My daydream was quickly shattered.
“So now what?” Daniel’s voice was loud and boisterous as he burst back into the little house. “Well, aren’t you two awful cozy looking?”
I jerked and sat up in a rush. Mariah, was not in such a hurry to leave my company in her bed. “I don’t know. Maybe we could stay for a day or two and get a little food to take with us when we go.”
“Where are you gonna go?” Mariah pouted.
“We’ve got to get back to the states. I just don’t know how we’re going to get there.” I stated honestly.
“Stay long enough to help the others and I can show you a way to get back.” She turned to face me in her bed and unbuttoning her shirt, she exposed her tender and flawless chest to me. “Look Tanner... The spots are completely gone.”
“Huh? Spots?” I was in shock and in a focused trance. I must have reacted in the way that someone Daniel’s age would have. It brought a laugh from her, but Daniel had a completely different reaction.
“Really? They’re gone? Let me see.” He tried to act concerned, but Mariah wasn’t falling for it.
“Maybe when you’re older, but for now, you’ll have to take Tanner’s word for it.” She gave him a wink.
“Hey! I’m older... I’m sixteen, I think.” He argued and she understood how easy it was to lose track of time when you are away from the strict schedule of the ‘real world’ where every minute of every day was documented and everyone had a clock, alarms and a calendar filled with alerts and reminders right on the phone in their pocket.
“Well, sixteen or not, I’m not showing you my boobs.” Mariah looked him straight in the eye and Daniel’s face instantly went beet red from embarrassment. “Anyway...” She quickly changed the subject and buttoned her shirt. “There are a few others who have the spots. Some worse than me. How’s your arm?”
I unwrapped the makeshift bandage and small bits of a scab crumbled away like dried mud splatters. I showed her where the incisions had been made and there was nothing more than a dark pink mark like an old scar that was faded from time. “Nearly healed. I sure wish we had a syringe. It’d be a whole lot simpler.”
“I can do it.” Daniel spoke up.
“We both can. Help twice as many that way.” I appreciated his bravery and willingness to help.
In all there were eight others that we helped over the next two days. When we could see that their spots were disappearing, we made plans to move on...to head north as planned. We were fed a village feast and given a celebratory send off. Tho
ugh I couldn’t translate what they were saying, I could understand that they would have welcomed us to stay as long as we wished. It was also obvious that they did not want Mariah to go and many of them were deeply saddened by her departure, but they gave us two rough, burlap sacks stuffed with fruits, smoked fish and a large bundle of handmade mosquito netting. The two women from the first night in Mariah’s shanty house and a few of the children walked with us down the narrow dirt path with us for a mile or so before saying their good-byes and turning back.
“They’re going to share your gift with the rest of the village, you know? I... I told them to.” Mariah said as we walked quietly down the jungle path.
“Thought they might.” I didn’t expect to hear her confession, but it did not surprise me.
“You’re not mad?” She seemed in disbelief at my apathy.
“It was never my gift. It was given to me and I guess it saved my life. I suppose I was just ‘paying it forward’, as the saying goes.” I never made eye contact as we spoke, but I smiled... and I think she noticed because, at that very moment, she reached out and took my hand in hers as we walked.
We didn’t get our journey underway until late in the evening and just an hour before dusk, we stopped to make camp as best as we could. It seemed a waste to only walk for an hour or two before stopping, but it wasn’t worth risking traveling at night when our heat signatures might be seen by a distant Titan.
