by Kate Tailor
Placing her feet carefully, Raleigh climbed the askew steps to the topmost story. The stairs creaked beneath the three as they ascended. Dust tickled her nose and drifted through the sunlight of the attic. Boxes sat neatly organized along one wall and filing cabinets along the other. Logically, Raleigh knew that this story was the same size as the lower lever, but the slanted ceilings and sloping walls gave it the impression of being smaller. In many ways it resembled Raleigh’s basement back home, save one notable difference, a cot and large refrigerator-sized box in the corner.
“That machine is for the extractions.” Sabine went over to the massive box and ran her hand along the side, etching fingerprints into the settled dust. “Now you understand why moving it would be difficult. Bringing it up four stories was challenging.” Sabine motioned for Raleigh to sit on the cot. “The machine works by filtering the hormone from your blood. If it’s all right with you, I’d like to install a port in your arm. Henry, please get my medical bag.”
Henry disappeared and returned a minute later huffing. He placed a stiff leather bag next to his wife and then disappeared back down the steps as Sabine began to ready the installation. The latex gloves caught on Sabine’s fingertips as she tugged them on. She hunched over Raleigh’s arm and inspected where she would insert the port. Her quick fingers nimbly moved Raleigh’s inner elbow. A nasty pinch made Raleigh wince, and she turned her face away from the abrasive sting of the antiseptic. When Sabine finished, thin tubes ran under Raleigh’s skin, making her vein accessible. An angry red blotch swelled up at the site of the port. Discreet attachments reminded Raleigh of her grandfather’s dialysis port, but hers weren’t as obvious.
“Once the swelling goes down it won’t look so noticeable. This tube will draw blood out of your body into the machine, and this line will deliver it back.” Sabine attached the piping to the machine and flipped a switch on the side. The large machine awoke to life with a few uneven thumps and then a whizzing, like a dishwasher set on high. “We’ll put it on full extraction, the highest setting. If you feel lightheaded, we’ll decrease the rate.”
“How long will it take?”
“Twenty minutes.” Sabine checked her watch and took a seat across the cramped room. She was near enough to be of help but far enough away that Raleigh had her space.
Pressure built under her skin as the blood left and returned to the port. Her free hand instinctually wanted to scratch free the lines, but she didn’t. Besides that discomfort, nothing happened. She half expected a tingle or head rush to prove the process worked. The feel of Sabine’s rapid heartbeat became less pronounced. Instead of heavy beat, it felt more like a dull pattering. It was akin to seeing underwater—it was difficult to see far and things were muted. Otherwise she remained unchanged. All fears of the process were soon replaced by boredom.
A picture on the machine caught her attention. She tilted her head trying to make sense of the sun-bleached images. The first was of forty or so boys all in uniforms. They smiled the awkward smiles of youth, with lots of teeth and squinted eyes. Adults flanked them, Sabine and Henry being two. The second photo was of two boys in their early teens, one blond with eyes so green they looked unnatural, the other was darker with a slight curl to his hair. The light-haired one’s arm was slung around the neck of the dark-haired boy. They weren’t Sabine’s children. There was no resemblance. Both donned the same uniforms as in the other picture, and Raleigh pegged them as students. Patrick mentioned that Sabine had been a teacher.
Soft fingers touched Raleigh’s shoulder, startling her. Sabine gave her a small grin then turned off the machine and unhooked her.
“I didn’t feel you coming.” Raleigh glanced to the far side of the room where Sabine had been sitting. It was rare that Raleigh didn’t have forewarning of someone’s arrival. Now she understood how people could be caught off guard. Her mother always complained about her lurking around the house.
“The Lucidin will slowly accumulate in your system. The feeling of isolation will last a half hour or so.”
“You’re sure it will come back? How do you know? I thought people didn’t make as much as me.”
“It’s better if you don’t ask questions about that.”
“Who needed this machine?”
“No one in a long time.” The dust on the top proved her point.
Sabine pulled a vial from the machine and held it up to the light. Rolling it in her fingers the light reflected off the clear liquid inside. After inspecting it, Sabine clasped it in her hand, hiding it from view.
“What will you do with that?”
“Dispose of it properly.”
“And you’re sure that other people can’t use it? It seems a waste to throw it out.”
“I, as much as anyone, wish that Lucidin could be used. That wasn’t how it worked out. It’s better to put it in the trash. It is also important that you do not tell people what you can do. I know back home you are used to referring patients to your uncle, but here you must keep quiet.”
“But what if I sense something bad?”
“Then you can tell me. But you mustn’t let on that you have Lucidin in your system.”
“Why would anyone care? I thought that it couldn’t be used.”
“It’s better to keep it a secret. I need you to trust me, and my experience, with this. You can’t tell anyone.”
Raleigh diverted her eyes to the machine. Something had happened in the past. Sabine had a reason she didn’t want Raleigh to pursue Lucidin.
“Raleigh, I can make you well. But you must promise me that you won’t say anything.”
“I won’t tell a soul.” She first had to see if the extractions would work. Then she had to get better before she could consider helping everyone else.
—
A MONTH WENT by with Raleigh extracting daily for twenty minutes before bed, which effectively put an end to the blackouts. For thirty days Raleigh had been living the life of a normal teenage girl. The bruises from past spills healed, and the scars took on a glossy white tinge in the humid Belgian climate. She’d adapted to not living in fear of falls. The worries of before gave way to more trivial thoughts.
Raleigh awoke before sunrise, while the rest of the city slept. She untangled the sheet from her legs and padded down the hall to the bathroom. The mirror was misty from Maggie’s shower. Quickly she washed, dressed, and tied her hair up into a knot on her head. With her eyes barely open she went downstairs to meet the day. The sound of Maggie’s teacup clinking against the side of the sink met her when she reached the main floor.
“Ready to go?” Maggie approached with a bounce in her step.
Raleigh nodded and followed her out of the house onto the deserted street, the streetlights illuminating their path. At this hour, the world existed only for her. The silence gave her thoughts plenty of room to breathe. Ten minutes later they arrived at the bakery.
Maggie unlocked the back of the shop, and they stepped into the cold shadowed kitchen. First, Maggie fired up the dormant ovens, and Raleigh washed her hands. They had to make bread in time for the customers.
Raleigh loaded the industrial mixer with the ingredients for the dough. In no time she was covered in a thin layer of flour. Once the bread was baked, the pastries folded, and the custard made, the shop was opened, and the day officially began.
Simplicity characterized these days. Baking gave Raleigh a chance to work with her hands and reflect. Timed slowed without school and doctor appointments. Her thoughts allowed for loneliness to creep in. Back home there were family and friends vying for her free time. Here she had yet to make any friends. Now she understood why Maggie spoke to her so much—very few people spoke English. Maggie’s French was superior to Raleigh’s, but she had a thick accent that most of the locals struggled to understand. Teresa, one of the girls who worked the register, knew a few words of English, but a deep friendship between her and Raleigh failed to bloom.
Three o’clock signaled the end of Maggie and Ralei
gh’s shift. Belgium’s northern latitude meant the summer hours stretched out longer than the ones in Colorado. A whole day sat out before Raleigh when she left. Many of them she explored the city, others she hiked in the nearby forests. Today though, it was drizzly and miserable, the kind of day better spent indoors. Both she and Maggie went home.
Maggie shut the front door and slipped off her shoes. “I’m going to get a small nap in before dinner. I’m sure you’ll find some mischief to get into.”
Their ongoing joke was that there didn’t seem to be any trouble around for Raleigh to find. “Not sure what I’ll do.”
“You could still catch that movie at the theater.”
Raleigh went to the movies every Friday. The theater mostly showed American films dubbed into French. On the weekends they showed them in English with French subtitles. At first it was a comforting reminder of home. Now it made her feel homesick. One look out the windows at the weather and she lost the motivation to go. “I’ll probably hang around here.”
“Suit yourself.” Maggie disappeared up the steps.
Raleigh went to her computer in the living room and video-called home.
Her father answered. “Raleigh!” His face came in too close and dominated the screen. Raleigh didn’t know if he’d ever get used to using the computer to communicate. But it was what they had.
“Hi Dad. How’s everything in Colorado?”
“Early.” He glanced to the corner of his monitor at the clock. “How are you doing? How are the treatments?”
“Still working. And Mom, how’s she?”
“Fine, but she still has to cart your sister to summer camp every day. School starts in a few weeks.”
Everything in Colorado managed to go on seamlessly without her. Not that she wanted it to fall apart, but it was odd how normal her house seemed, how her father hadn’t changed at all.
“Theo? Is that Raleigh?” Beth appeared in her bathrobe as she pulled the device away from her husband. “I’m coming to see you in October. I bought the ticket yesterday. That is, if you’re still living there then.” Her mother never missed a chance to mention the prospect of Raleigh coming home.
“I think you’ll like Liege.” She could picture her mother in the bakery. “When I get back, I have some recipes to teach you.”
“Any cute boys?” Thalia yelled from behind her mother.
“None that speak English.”
“They don’t have to be able to speak!”
Beth shoved the computer to her husband. In the background Raleigh could see her mother chasing her sister up the stairs saying, “Did you finish cleaning your room?”
Theo watched them go. “I should probably get to work. Love you. Take care, and call in a few days?”
“Yeah, and I love you, too.” The line went dead, and her computer background came up. It was a picture of their trip to the Grand Canyon a few years ago. Her fingers traced the faces of her family.
Raleigh tucked the computer away and went to the bookshelf. She grabbed one of the many mysteries that occupied Maggie’s section. Flopping into a chair she read a few chapters. She stayed engrossed until Henry’s heavy footsteps interrupted her reading. Accompanying the thuds were softer steps, Sabine’s. Raleigh marked her place and went to help make dinner. She was becoming as skilled at cooking as she was at baking.
Raleigh slid the peeler across the top of a carrot and then diced the onion. The burner warmed her side nearest it. Sabine had a skillet simmering. During the month, Raleigh had found a place here, but it would never be home. She belonged back in Colorado and in college. It was a feeling she couldn’t shake. Friends back home were fussing over roommates and looking forward to classes. She should be, too.
“Something on your mind?” Sabine added some white wine to the base of the sauce.
“College. If I go back to the States by November, I can enroll in the spring semester.”
Sabine put the bottled down and picked up the spoon to stir. “It will happen for you one day. Someday you will look back on this time fondly.”
“I will. I am enjoying myself here.” Raleigh didn’t want Sabine to think she was ungrateful.
Sabine smiled and then laughed. “The students Henry and I taught at the orphanage always had the same look in their eyes when leaving. The world seems like such a big place at your age.”
Raleigh enjoyed hearing Sabine talk about the years she and Henry taught at the boys’ orphanage. It must’ve been shortly after their years researching Lucidin. Raleigh once asked how they ended up working at the school. Sabine said it was fate’s gift to her. Childless due to infertility, she said that those boys were the children she never had. Unfortunately, the only two pictures that accompanied the stories were on the extraction machine. Like the machine, all the parts of their past were tucked away in the attic.
Raleigh pushed thoughts of college out of her mind and went back to cooking. In two months she’d have to decide which was worse—treading water in Belgium or blacking out at home. Neither one seemed ideal.
6
THUD. THUD. THUD. The heavy knocks sounded like someone was trying to break the door down. It drew Raleigh out of her musings on leaving and startled Sabine.
“Sabine!” The roaring voice from outside echoed through the small house.
Sabine paled and nearly knocked over the skillet. With four long strides, she left the kitchen. Raleigh sensed three people at the door—a strong man carrying something heavy, an asthmatic who’d let out the tortured cry, and a third with a faint heart beat who was dying. It was good Sabine was a doctor.
Raleigh rushed to the living room in time to watch the three men she’d sense fill the doorway. Panic filled them. Their wide pupils, racing hearts, and tight lungs made the hairs on the back of Raleigh’s neck prickle. The strong blond man held the dying one in his arms. These men ran from something, and her own body urged her to get away, even if she didn’t know the threat.
“Sabine, he’s dying.” The asthmatic strangled breaths stuttered the words. “We didn’t know where to go.”
Henry ran forward. “You came to the right place.”
“We need to find Kappa.” The strong one moved further in so Henry could shut the door. “Only his brother can save him now. They’ve drained him. We need to find him and soon.”
“He’s dying. He doesn’t have time for that.” All eyes turned to Raleigh with that admission. She hung near the dining room table, out of the way. “Sabine, his heart’s going to stop. It’s weak. We should get him to a hospital.”
“Raleigh.” Sabine’s ashen face regained a hit of red. She took Raleigh’s arm and led into the kitchen. “I hoped to shield you from this.”
“From that boy dying?” Raleigh wanted to correct herself. He wasn’t a boy, he was likely only a few years older than her. His fragility gave him that tinge, but he was a man, a young one.
“From the world he lives in. He’s like a son to me. I need your help. He’ll die without it.” Sabine’s thin fingers clutched Raleigh’s arm digging into her skin.
Raleigh didn’t know what to say. Sabine, of all people, never wanted her to use her gifts. “Me? I never worked on patients with Uncle Patrick and Dr. Moore. I just helped them figure out what’s wrong. All I can tell you is that his heart isn’t good. None of him is, really. He’s in a lot of pain. I’m not sure what’s causing it.”
“He’s like you. And he’s been drained of his Lucidin. Can you give him some of yours?”
“What do you mean, drained? I thought people like me are rare.”
Regaining some of her composure, Sabine released Raleigh’s arm. “They are, extremely. He’s similar to you in that he creates Lucidin. He, like you, is reliant on it. When too much is removed, the body recoils and ails. People who take it can be weaned off. But people who make large quantities die when too much is taken.”
Raleigh rubbed her port. “I extract daily.”
“They’ve taken much more than that.” Turning her h
ead, Sabine observed the three.
“Who? Who took it?”
Sabine returned her gaze to Raleigh. “I don’t know. But he needs your help. Will you help him?”
Questions about Lucidin piled up. Ones she’d need an answer to. Now was not the time. First, they had to help the man. “He can have as much of mine as he needs.”
Lifting up on her toes, Sabine threw her arms around Raleigh. “Thank you.” They returned to the others in the living room. Waving her hand, Sabine directed them towards the stairs. “Take him up to the attic. We’ll tend to him there.”
The asthmatic didn’t move, only sobbed lightly. “What about Kappa? Do you have Kappa’s number? You can’t save him. We’ve already given him two vials... and he’s still dying.”
Sabine went over to him. “Trevor, a few vials won’t work. What he needs is a continual infusion. We understand that.”
Already at the stairwell, Henry thundered, “Young man, take him up to the attic!”
The strong one sprang into action. His long legs took the steps two at a time, he moved faster than the rest, despite the load he carried. He cared about the man in his arms, and even though he wasn’t crying like the asthmatic, Raleigh sensed his throat constrict around a lump of despair. Both mourned their friend who wasn’t yet dead.
Raleigh arrived second in the attic, after the blond, with Sabine paces behind her. The room was bathed in summer-evening light from the small windows and shadows cast across the floor at odd angles. Dust and stillness filled the space.
“Put him on the cot.” Sabine turned to her husband. “Henry, grab the chair. Raleigh, let me see your arm.”
With a good tug, Raleigh tore the thin covering of fabric from her port. She twisted her arm upward, exposing the port to Sabine who immediately made the attachments. Henry put the chair behind Raleigh and she sat.
