“The gun show?” This is new. I have yet to fire a gun, and I’m not sure I actually want to, but I can’t deny I’m intrigued.
Heading out the door off the kitchen, I bounce down the stairs to the wraparound porch. A steady thwacking comes from beyond, but it doesn’t sound like gunfire.
When I round the corner, Ally, Sonia, and Draya are leaning against the railing with their backs to me. Ally turns and glances over her shoulder as I approach.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“Just taking in the scenery,” Sonia says.
I step closer to see what’s so fascinating. “Holy...woah,” Any additional words refuse to form in my head, much less come out of my mouth.
“Yeah,” Ally says, her cheeks pinking up.
Cyrus stands with his back to us, shirt off, shorts hanging low on his hips revealing two dimples on his lower back. He swings an ax, bringing it down on a log in front of him, splitting it in two. Muscles flex and contract with each pass, and sweat runs down smooth, tanned skin.
“Damn,” I whisper.
His biceps bulges when he brings the ax up again. He reaches for another log, places it on the chopping block and takes another swing.
“So, um…” I clear my throat. “Does this go on every day.”
“Yup,” Draya says.
Suddenly it occurs to me she’s watching her boyfriend’s shirtless brother with way too much interest. I cut my eyes to her. “I take it this is the gun show.”
Sonia’s grins. “Well, he does have impressive guns.”
“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” I ask her.
She shrugs. “Do you see him chopping firewood without his shirt on?”
“Does he know you watch him?”
“Doubtful,” Draya says. “It’d go to his already inflated head.”
“Whose turn is it today?” Sonia asks.
“Mine,” Ally says. “But I think Evan should take it.”
Three pairs of eyes turn toward me, and Draya’s lips quirk up in a mischievous smile.
“Uh, turn for what?”
“To take him something to drink,” Ally says. “We all rotate. Honestly, you need to see the front, and it’s the only way.”
“Oh, no,” I say, backing away. “I’m not participating in your eye groping.”
“Aww, come on, you’re practically drooling. And your eyes have barely left him since you walked out here,” Draya says.
“That’s not the point.”
“Suit yourself,” Draya says, handing a glass of water to Ally.
As if I have no control over my own arm, it reaches out and snags the glass from Draya. “Fine. I’ll do it.”
“Thought so,” Ally says under her breath.
Crossing the length of the porch to the steps, I walk down the path to where Cyrus is working. He glances up as I approach and wipes his arm across his forehead, smiling as he reaches out to take the glass.
“How do you know this is for you?” I ask.
His left eyebrow notches up. “It’s not?”
“It is.”
His smile broadens. “What’re you up to this afternoon?” he asks, taking a sip of water.
I stare at his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “I was looking for Sonia to get something to put on these,” I say running my fingertips lightly over the blisters on my left hand.
“How’d you get those?”
“Digging a latrine.”
He smiles. “Oh, really?”
“What?”
“Nothing.” He shakes his head. “Too bad though. I could show you how to chop firewood, but you probably don’t want to do that with blistered hands.”
“No, probably not.”
He finishes the water and hands the glass back to me. “Thanks for this.”
“Apparently it was my turn.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” I give him the same lame non-answer he gave me. Touché. I turn to head back to the porch.
“Hey,” he calls out. I glance back, my eyes locking onto his six-pack abs before gliding over sculpted chest muscles and finally meeting his eyes. “Green tea.”
“H-huh?”
“Your blisters. Soak them in green tea. Apply some aloe vera and wrap them in gauze.”
“Oh, thanks.”
He turns back and swings the ax again, and I watch one more time as those muscles do magical things to my circulatory system.
17
Closer Than Ever
I can’t believe how fast time has gone by out here. When I first arrived, I was itching to get home, but now…now I’m not sure what I want. With every passing day, I’m less convinced that leaving is what I need or even want to do.
When morning dawns on my last day, I dress in my own clothes and fold up the shorts and T-shirt Sonia lent me, placing them on the dresser. I knot messy curls on top of my head and sit on the edge of the bed to put on my boots, the mattress sinking beneath my weight. A bittersweet air settles over me as I realize this is the last time I’ll be in this room.
Sonia, Marcus, and Cyrus are escorting me back to the Union after breakfast and I’m working to ignore the growing sensation that I’m not ready yet. My parents must be worried sick, but this place and these people own a piece of me now, too.
After stripping the sheets, I take one last look around what has been my home for the past several weeks. My time here has transformed me in ways I still don’t fully understand. Maybe I still haven’t found my purpose, but I believe I’m closer than ever.
With a small sigh, I turn and walk downstairs, dropping the bedding by the back door with the rest of the laundry before entering the kitchen.
Sonia is busy making tea while Lucien and Draya talk in low tones in the corner, Lucien rubbing Draya’s arms. Marcus leans against the counter, his features pinched.
In the living room, little Connor, one of Ally’s brothers, is curled up with a blanket on the couch next to his sister, who appears to be crying. Something is very wrong.
Cyrus is nowhere to be seen and neither is Ally’s other brother, Ty, sending prickles up my spine. I walk over to Sonia. “What’s going on?”
“It’s Ty.” Tension colors her light brown eyes.
“What happened?”
“He’s sick, very sick.”
“Sick?”
“I think he has pneumonia.”
“Pneumonia?”
“Oh, my god! What is your problem?” Draya snaps at me from across the kitchen. “People in the Union don’t get sick?”
I pivot to face her, ready to say something cutting when I catch the fear in her eyes, choking the words off before they reach my tongue. “Yes, but not often. What can you do for him?” I ask Sonia.
“We can’t do anything,” Draya answers. “I’m sorry if it delays your return to your precious Union.”
“You really think that’s what I’m worried about?” Her expression is defiant before she turns away. “There’s nothing you can do? No medicine you can give him?” I ask Sonia.
“We can’t afford the medicine he needs.” She moves to the stove as the tea kettle whistles.
“But there is something he can take?” Little buds of hope sprout in my chest.
“It’s expensive,” Lucien says.
“How much?”
Lucien rubs the back of his neck. “More than we have.”
Sonia gives me an almost imperceptible shake of her head, letting me know she hasn’t told anyone about the money. Which means she still has it. The little bud grows. I nod, and she reaches into her back pocket to pull out the money I gave her.
“What’s that?” Draya asks.
“Cash. From the Union.” I brace myself and swivel to face her. “I had it on me when I was taken. I gave it to Sonia.”
“Sonia?” Marcus asks.
“I asked her to keep it secret until I was gone.”
“What the hell for?” Draya demands.
“Because I didn’t want it to
be another ‘thing’ between us.” I huff out a frustrated breath. “In the Union you can buy your way out of your obligations. That’s not what I’m trying to do.”
No one says anything, not a word, and when I turn to look at Lucien, he’s staring at me with his dark, unreadable eyes.
“Is it enough for the medicine Ty needs?”
He takes the cash from Sonia, pockets a bill, and hands the rest back to her. “Yes.”
After Lucien leaves, Sonia finishes the tea, stirring in some honey, and turns to go upstairs.
Ally pops up from the couch. “I’ll take it to him.”
“No,” Sonia says. “I should go.”
“He’s my brother.”
“What’s the matter?” I ask, not sure why they’re arguing over who’s going to take him tea.
“He’s highly contagious,” Sonia says. “We don’t want to expose anyone we don’t need to.”
“Then let me go.”
“So now you’re a martyr, too?” Draya snaps.
I close my eyes and count to three before turning to face her. “No, but I’ve been vaccinated against most major illnesses. That’s why people in the Union rarely get sick. The odds Ty has something I’m not immune to are pretty slim. Let me do this.”
Sonia hands me the cup, and I go upstairs to find Ty on the bottom of one of the bunks. My breath catches at the sight of him. He’s ashen and his bluish lips are slack in sleep. I press my palm to his forehead and it feels like an inferno is raging in his skull. His chest moves up and down with exaggerated motion as he breathes, a wheeze accompanying each one. I can’t do much for him while he sleeps, so I set the tea on the floor next to his bunk and return to the kitchen.
Sonia pours some hot water from the pot on the stove into a smaller bucket, adding some cooler water. “Here,” she says, “wash your hands with some soap. We have to contain this as much as possible.”
“How does it spread?”
“Through saliva and mucus…I think. It depends on what strain he has, but without any way to run tests, I’m basing my assumptions on what’s been going around. He probably picked it up at the falls. Lots of people in the area are sick.”
“He should be isolated then. I’ll keep him upstairs with me.” I grab some clean sheets and head up to my room to make the bed before going back down to get Ty. He’s heavier than I would have guessed based on his size. He moans a little, coughs, and snuggles into me.
Even though no one gets sick much in the Union, I know enough about viruses and bacteria to realize we need to kill the germs. I head back downstairs for a bucket, soap, and rags and scrub the surfaces of all of the beds in their room.
When I return to the kitchen, Lucien is back. He places a bottle in my hand. “Give him a dropper of this twice a day. It needs to stay cool, so store it out in the springhouse.” He hands me another bottle I recognize as an anti-inflammatory. “You can give him this to bring his fever down.”
Ty wakes enough to swallow the medicine along with some more tea. Sonia put something in it to help him sleep and I finally understand why she drugged me when I first got here.
Ty sleeps most of the day, only waking for brief periods. Marcus and Cyrus drag another mattress up and lay it on the floor beside the bed so I can sleep next to Ty. After dinner, I’m exhausted and collapse on the mattress, falling asleep almost immediately. Ty’s coughing wakes me throughout the night, and he whimpers in his sleep. It’s a long, rough night.
By morning, his cheeks have a little bit of ruddiness to them, and he’s awake for longer stretches at a time.
“Here, try some of this.” I offer him some soup.
He takes a couple of sips, coughs again, and lies back in bed, but his eyes remain open, like he doesn’t have the strength to sit up, but he’s tired of sleeping.
“Do you want me to read to you?”
He nods. “Can you read the book about the family living on the island?”
I glance at the stack of books on the bedside table, but I’m not sure any of them are the one he’s referring to.
“It’s in my room,” he says.
I bite back a smile and bounce down the stairs. Since I stripped his bed and know it’s not there, I open the top drawer to the closest dresser and find The Swiss Family Robinson tucked inside. When I pull out the colorful book with elaborate illustrations, it’s clear why this wasn’t among the books in my room. Even if he can’t read, there pictures tell a vivid story.
Returning to the room, I sit next to him and tuck him into my side as we read all about the Robinsons’ adventures. He’s asleep within twenty minutes though, although he sleeps for shorter periods of time than he did yesterday.
“How’s he doing this morning?” Sonia asks, peeking her head into the room.
“Not nearly as much coughing last night.” I stand and stretch. Based on the shadows on the wall, it’s early morning, before sunrise.
Sonia steps inside and moves to the bedside, placing the back of her hand against his forehead. “He’s been on the medication for forty-eight hours now, so he shouldn’t be contagious. I’ll have Marcus move him back to his own bed and give you your room back.
“I really don’t mind,” I say and realize I’m going to miss the little guy, but I won’t miss sleeping on the floor. Even on a mattress, it’s uncomfortable.
Cyrus pokes his head in the door and glances from Sonia to me and back to Sonia again.
“What’s up?” Sonia asks.
“Connor.”
With a heavy sigh, she follows him downstairs. Between Marcus and Cyrus, they get Connor tucked into my bed with clean sheets and Ty back in his room.
I administer the medication and spend my day keeping an eye on Connor as the others bring tea for him and food for me to the door. Sonia pokes her head in just before dinner, dark circles marring the caramel skin beneath her eyes.
“Uh, Sonia, how are you feeling?”
She coughs. “Not so good.”
“Sit,” I order and run downstairs to grab another set of clean sheets, bumping into Cyrus in the kitchen.
“Hey, how’s it going?” he asks.
“Sonia has it now.”
I can see worry flash across his face, but he pulls it together quickly. “Okay, we’re on it.”
He and Marcus drag another mattress up to the room and I spend the evening taking care of my two patients. One thing I know from this experience, whatever my ultimate career is, it won’t be in medicine.
Sonia’s been down four days and I’m scared. I sit on the floor beside the bed, wishing she’d wake up. She coughed all night, a chest-rattling hacking that made her vomit twice. It’s been a struggle to get any fluids in her because she’s too weak to even sip through a straw.
Closing my eyes, I wish I believed in a higher power who I could pray to for her well-being, but instead, I try to will her back to health with the non-existent powers of my mind.
“What do I have to do to get something to eat around here?”
Relief floods through me and I spin, throwing my arms around her. “Sonia!”
I bounce downstairs feeling lighter than I have in days and get a cup of soup for her. No one is inside to share the good news with. Returning to the room, I hand her the soup and sit cross-legged on the mattress at the foot of the bed.
“How is everyone?” She asks. “What are they up to?”
“Everyone’s okay. No one else has gotten sick, but I haven’t seen much of them lately. Too busy taking care of you.”
“Thanks, Evan. For everything.”
I wave her off and glance at my nails.
“I’m tired of sleeping and doing nothing,” she says.
“Do you want me to read to you? Ty has a book with pretty pictures.”
“No.” She laughs. “Tell me something about yourself.”
“Like what?”
She taps her finger against her lips. “Do you have a boyfriend back home?”
“That’s a loaded question.
I thought I had one, but…hell, I have no idea.”
I spend a little time explaining about Bryce and what the kidnappers said without going into too much detail.
“What do you think that means?”
I shake my head. “I don’t really know, but I do know he lied to me and that’s a deal breaker. Whatever we had was dead the second he told me his name was Bryce.”
“So, he goes by his middle name, that’s not so strange. Even out here.”
“It’s more than that. Whatever he’s into, it got me kidnapped and nearly killed. If it was just the name, I might be able to get past it. But I always had this sense when we were together that he was holding back. I don’t have a lot of relationship experience, but I can tell when someone is withholding information from me.”
“And honesty is important to you.” It’s a statement and not a question.
“Isn’t it to you?”
“Of course, but truth is complex, and sometimes all the details don’t need to be shared with everyone.”
“Okay, I can see that to a certain extent, but with my family situation…” Oh shoot, I just opened a box of steaming shit I’m not sure I want to get into.
“What situation is that?”
I sigh and wonder how much I want to tell her, but honesty is my thing, especially after my entire life was a lie, so I give her the Evan Taylor tabloid story of my life.
When I’m finished, she’s quiet for a few moments, then lets out a slow breath of air. “Wow. Okay, I think I’m starting to understand you a little bit more.”
I laugh. “Is that a good thing?”
She chuckles. “Most definitely. We like you Evan. All of us.” I lift an eyebrow. “Yes, even Draya. And…well, getting to know you better only makes me like you more.”
I drop my head, unsure of what to make of all this sharing, but suddenly I want to know more about her and the others here. “What about you guys. Cyrus said you were coming home from some sort of circus or something when you found me.”
She laughs. “Festival, not circus. The Summer Fest. They have one every year somewhere in the area. People come from all over for a week of trading goods, gossip, and competitive spirit. It’s fun and a chance to meet people beyond our small community.”
The Union Page 10