by S. L. Baum
“Wha… what? What’s going on?”
Krista smacked the man in the chest. “Seriously? Sam, what in the hell are you doing sleeping on my porch?”
Sam rubbed his face with the palms of his hands. “Technically it’s Uncle Abe’s porch,” he said with a yawn.
Krista turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door. “I am not doing this with you right now. And I can’t believe you are stalking me. I swear you exist right now just to give me a hard time.”
“I’m not stalking you. I was waiting for you, but I guess I fell asleep. What were you doing out with Pete so long?”
“I wasn’t with Pete.” She stopped talking and shook her head. “Why am I even telling you anything? I don’t owe you an explanation.”
“No. You don’t. But I do.”
“You do what?”
“I owe you an explanation. Can we go inside and talk?”
“I’d rather not.”
Sam leaned against the side of the house, crossing his arms in front of him. “Fair enough. I haven’t exactly given you a reason to want me coming inside for a chat.”
“You haven’t,” Krista confirmed.
“I just wanted to say that I’ve been just what you implied.”
“What?”
“You basically told me I was a big shaft, back at the diner,” Sam yawned and brought his hand up to cover his mouth. “You’re right. I’ve been a dick. I’ve been overly suspicious, accusing you of stuff I have no proof of, and I’ve been rude and obnoxious.”
Krista crossed her arms and leaned against the house on the other side of the front door, mirroring Sam’s position. “It’s nice to hear you admit it.”
“I’ve lost my mother, never knew my father, my grandparents died when I was ten, and Abe is all I’ve got anymore. My head’s a mess and I went into over protective mode. I’m going to try to dial it down. I swear.”
Krista nodded her head. “I understand that the loss of your mother was fairly recent, so I’ll do my best to remember that as you try to dial it down. When I lost my grandmother, the woman who raised me and the only mother I’d ever known, the pain was maddening. She died less than two years ago, and it still hurts, every day.”
Sam shifted his weight, suddenly uncomfortable. He hadn’t considered that she might have recently lost a loved one as well.
Krista could see the shock in his eyes. “So, like you, I never knew my father and I’ve lost the woman who raised me, but the woman who gave birth to me took off when I was barely a year old. You have Abe. I have nobody. But you don’t see me walking around being a complete ass to the people that cross my path. It would be nice if you could recognize that you’re not the only one dealing with loss.”
“You certainly have a way of calling me names, without really calling me names.”
“You can imply whatever you’d like.”
“If it’s at all possible, could you maybe pretend that this moment, right now, is the first time that we’ve met?”
Krista straightened herself and faced him. She wanted to continue being angry with him, and she hated that he accused her of trying to swindle his uncle, but she’d rather have peace in her life. She didn’t want the stress that came with it all. “Who are you again?” she asked with a small smile.
“I’m Sam Webber, Abe’s grandnephew, I’ll be living in the main house with him.”
“Nice to meet you, Sam Webber. I’m Krista Vita. I work for Doc Baker and I’m renting this guesthouse from your Uncle Abe.”
Sam extended his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Krista. If you ever need anything, just come on up and knock on the back kitchen door.”
Krista grasped Sam’s hand. “Thank you,” she said with a yawn.
“You’re welcome. I’ll let you get inside now. I’ll see you around.”
“See you around.”
Sam took the three steps down from her porch, and Krista watched as he walked back toward the main house. She exhaled a deep breath as a quiet calmness washed over her. She hadn’t realized exactly how tense she’d been since meeting Sam. He’d tied her insides up in knots.
Sam hoped he’d done the right thing by deciding to trust Krista’s intentions with his uncle. Maybe she was just a girl in need of a place to stay. Maybe she didn’t have an evil plan. “Get it together, Sam,” he mumbled to himself. “How many people do you know with an evil plan?” He turned around and saw Krista’s silhouette still standing outside her door. He gave a wave before he disappeared around the corner.
Chapter Eight
The assisted living home in Greenville, at which Doctor Baker volunteered, was located on the outskirts of the city, on the side closest to Cedar Creek. Doc Baker told Pete to “hold the fort,” while Krista accompanied him on his Friday morning rounds at the home. Krista was beginning to see how very scheduled and stretched Doc’s time was, and why he’d hired her so quickly. He really did need the help.
They hadn’t talked during the drive over. Doc Baker was still trying to decide if the girl next to him was crazy, or if he was. He couldn’t believe he was humoring her and giving her this test of her skills.
“We’ll walk around first and greet all the residents before going into the office,” Doctor Baker told her when they arrived on site. “There are only a few, which is nice – fourteen people in total – with a waiting list too long to count. There is a full time cook, housekeeper, an onsite caregiver, and many companions that come and go throughout the week. The residents here are well looked after.”
“Aren’t there plenty of doctors in Greenville to service this home? Why you? Why here?”
Doctor Baker pushed open the door to the spacious living room that was in the center of the home. A movie was playing on a large TV; three of the residents were sitting on the long couch in front of it. There were several tables in the back of the room set up with games and puzzles. Some comfortable high back chairs near an overstuffed bookshelf were occupied and their inhabitants appeared to be lost in their books.
“There are plenty of Greenville doctors who do. I’m the only one from Cedar Creek, the thirteen others are from here. I come for a few hours on Friday morning, and someone else will come for a few hours this evening. The same thing will happen tomorrow, with two other doctors, and it repeats every day of the week.”
“No wonder there is a huge wait list for this place. But that doesn’t answer my question.”
Doctor Baker knelt down beside one of the readers and placed his hand over the pages of her book, grabbing her attention. “Oh, hello,” the woman said as she looked over at him. “Do I know you? You look awfully familiar.”
“I’m the doctor,” he said softly and smiled at her. “I’ve come to visit.”
“How nice. I’m reading.”
“I can see that. Is it a good book?” Doctor Baker asked.
“Funny,” the woman frowned. “I can’t seem to remember.”
“I’m going to introduce you to my friend,” he told the woman. “Krista, this is Rebekah Baker.”
“Oh. Am I Krista or am I Rebekah?” the woman asked.
“You are Rebekah,” Doctor Baker told her. “I’m going to let you read now, and I’m going to introduce my friend Krista to the other people here. Is that alright?”
“You go right ahead,” Rebekah told him. She looked down and noticed the book on her lap as if for the first time. “I’m going to read a book.”
Doc leaned forward and kissed the top of the woman’s head. “That’s an excellent idea.” He took Krista’s hand and pulled her a few steps away from the reading chairs. “My elder sister, Rebekah. I’m all she has, even though she’s no longer aware of it. Everyone here is related to one of the fourteen doctors that check-up on the residents. We volunteer our time, pay for the staff, and maintain the house. Some of the people living here had funds set away for retirement, some did not, but we split it all out evenly and make sure our loved ones are treated fairly and humanely. It’s a group effort.”<
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“That’s got to be one of the best ideas I’ve ever heard of! Good elder care can be hard to find.”
“I was one of the co-founders. My sister has early…”
“Early-onset dementia.”
“Good guess.”
“Not a guess,” Krista wagged a finger at him.
“You could clearly see the woman has memory issues,” Doc argued.
Krista stepped away from the doctor and stooped down next to the man putting together a puzzle at one of the tables. “How are you breathing today?”
“Pretty well, thank you, beautiful lady. I’m Henry.”
She shook the old man’s hand. “I’m Krista, I’m here with the doctor. You haven’t been sneaking any cigarettes have you? With your Emphysema that wouldn’t be a good idea.”
“I haven’t put one to my lips in two whole years.”
“That’s a good man.” She smiled at Henry, before returning to Doc’s side. “Another good guess?” Krista whispered the question to him.
“Possibly.”
“One of the three on that couch has pancreatic cancer, which is tragic, and I hate to say this as we are testing my skills. At this distance, I can’t be sure which one. If I spent some time with the person, I could give you an approximate life expectancy.”
“The man in the middle, Philip,” Doctor Baker confirmed. “His family was told last week to not expect him to make it much past the holidays.”
Krista looked at Philip, and watched as he laughed at something on the television screen and saw the grimace that came soon after. “I’m very sorry to hear that.”
“Let’s go into the office to talk,” Doc suggested.
Krista followed him to the compact but perfectly designed room. It seemed to be well stocked with any of the basic medical supplies all the various visiting doctors would need to conduct their routine exams. Krista assumed the residents were transported to various specialists when serious issues arose.
“This is a great facility, Doc. You should be proud to have been one of the co-founders.”
“I am. It will be hard to relinquish my spot here to another doctor when Rebekah is gone. I think I’d like to stay on, in some capacity. But let’s talk about that nose of yours.”
“Starting to believe me yet?” Krista asked as she sat down in one of the chairs.
“Can every Deathtaker diagnose so precisely?”
“As I told you last night, I never knew any others, except for my grandmother, but she is no longer living. Grandma could always tell what general part of the body was afflicted, she could detect cancer, and she could sense life expectancy. I think my medical training, and more so the knowledge I gained in each of the various hospitals and clinics I’ve worked at since my certification, has equipped me with a particular set of skills that maybe other people with my gift might not be privy to.”
Doc’s eyes started to sparkle; thoughts and ideas fired up behind them. He imagined all the different ways a talent like hers could be helpful. “You’re special. This gift of yours, it could be put to so much use.”
“Can you imagine knowing that you’re only able to pick one person at a time, only a few a year, but the rest you need to let roll the dice with conventional treatment? My gift, combined with my professional training, weighs heavily on my spirit. My grandmother warned me not to go into the medical field as a Deathtaker, especially with what she always told me was a heightened sense of smell. It makes you feel as if you are playing God. It’s hard to make that kind of selection. Who do I help? Who do I walk away from? That’s why I left the children’s hospital so soon. I couldn’t make that choice again.”
Doc positioned his chair in front of Krista’s and sat down. “I’m not talking about who you can save as a Deathtaker. I’m talking about non-invasive diagnosis. If you can pinpoint the problem, then a specific diagnostic test can be run to confirm your initial assessment. Conventional treatment can begin sooner, and the chance of survival without using your ultimate gift is therefore increased. You, young lady, might just become part of my Friday rounds here.”
Krista hadn’t thought about that aspect of her gift before. She had a sense of smell that was unique; her grandmother had been shocked by it. As soon as her pituitary gland had kicked into gear, she began to sense the decay within certain people. When ever her grandmother had chosen to take the death of someone, Krista would tell her, “her lungs are clouded, his brain is not right, her bones are broken,” and whatever else she could smell. Wanting to be able to target the specific issues was what steered her into the nursing assistant program. With a doctor to work with, someone who believed in her abilities, she could put all that knowledge to greater use.
“You really think my presence will be helpful to you?”
“Krista, if everything you’ve told me is true, I know you’re an asset that I’d be a damn fool to let pass me by. I promise to help out however I can with Marlene and Ben Richardson. I’ll convince them to trust you. Not only to save Marlene, but so I can see it with these two eyes right here,” he said, pointing to his face with his index fingers. “I have to see it. I need proof for the half of my brain that’s resisting.”
“I’ll let you see it,” Krista told him. “But I need you to promise me you’ll get the Richardsons on their way out of Cedar Creek and that you’ll keep my body safe until it starts back up again.”
“You have my word,” Doctor Baker promised.
Saturday morning came and went, and by the time Krista woke it had become Saturday afternoon. She stretched her arms over her head, lengthening herself on the comfortable mattress, and then gazed out of the bedroom window. The day was clear, and the trees beckoned, waving their leaves at her to come outside for a proper visit. She hadn’t made time to simply walk along the creek or on the well-worn path through the trees since she’d moved into the guesthouse.
Krista was almost at peace. She always felt anxious during the time between, those days when she floated through her life dealing with the tough decision of which death to take. She had a specific purpose again, she knew it before she’d fallen asleep and that allowed her to rest better than she had in weeks. The tension between herself and Abe’s nephew had lessened – she hoped – and she was making friendships that felt meaningful for the first time in a long time. Soon, she would be able to help Marlene. The best part of it all was that she’d be able to stay in Cedar Creek for a while longer, since there would be no reason for Krista to leave immediately afterward. She’d been running from place to place since her grandmother had passed, and Krista wanted to stay still.
After changing out of her pjs and into some comfortable clothes that she could go exploring in, Krista filled up a water bottle, grabbed a breakfast bar, and headed outside. She decided it was time to discover where the path through the trees would take her. She’d seen it from her kitchen window, but had no idea where it went. “No time like the present,” Krista said aloud as her feet hit the path.
As she followed the clearing away from her little house, she knew the creek was on her left; she could see it downhill, through the breaks in the trees. She let the sound of the water be her music, as it splashed against rocks and trickled along its way. After a few minutes there was a brief incline, and then a sharp turn to the left, which brought her to the edge of a small cliff. Directly in front of her hung a rope bridge with planks of wood evenly spaced along the bottom, and lengths of rope stretched on either side to provide support. It looked sturdy enough, but she would have preferred it if the wooden planks had been a continuous path across the creek, without gaps. The blank spots in the middle of each step caused her to hesitate. She wouldn’t be able to look forward and concentrate on the flowers she saw on the other side; she’d have to look down as she crossed, watching precisely where she placed her feet as she walked.
Krista pulled on the ropes, decided they were secure, and took the first step, and then a second and a third. She looked down at the water, which rushed along six feet
or so below, and her hands gripped the ropes a little tighter as she made the next step. Every time she moved her feet the rope bridge swayed slightly; it wasn’t enough to make her fear for her life, but it was enough to make her want to get across quickly. You’ll make it, she told herself. Just keep walking.
One step after another, hands alternately sliding along and then gripping the ropes, Krista made it across the bridge. She pumped her fist in the air. “Woo hoo!” she yelled out. Her shout of triumph was met by the sound of clapping.
Krista jumped at the sound; she’d been concentrating on her feet so much that she hadn’t noticed anyone else. She turned her head and saw Sam, a few feet up ahead, down near the base of the water at a narrow part in the creek.
“You could have crossed on the rocks,” he yelled up to her, pointing to the path of five, well-spaced, very large rocks that spanned the width of the creek.
“Are you stalking me again? I’m not out here plotting Abe’s demise, plus I haven’t got him to sign over his fortune to me yet, so he’s safe for now.”
Sam shook his head. “I hear the sarcasm! But I was out here first. If you notice, you’re behind me.”
She looked at him with skepticism. He could very well have seen her leave and then followed her out, picking up his pace as she neared the bridge.
“I didn’t follow you,” he told her after seeing the tension in her body. “I’m going fishing. See?” He held up his pole.
She took note of the bag slung across his chest and conceded that he was telling her the truth. “Where’re you heading?”
“Up ahead. The creek gets much wider up there, with a little kick out area that the fish like to hang out in. Follow the path to your right and it’ll slope down and end up near there. I’ll show you.”
Krista shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt. I just came out to explore. I’d probably scare the fish away.”