by E. Van Lowe
Chapter Thirty-Three
Asia and Rive were seated on a claw foot settee in the downstairs parlor when I came in. They were huddled close together in silence, holding each other’s hands. The eyes of Terence Applegate in the portrait above the mantle seemed to be watching over them.
“Come. Sit with us,” Asia called when I walked in. She seemed genuinely happy to see me.
I moved to the claw foot chair across from them, and sat.
“How are they?” I asked.
“We’ve heard nothing so far,” Asia said, giving Rive’s hands a gentle squeeze. “But we’re confident. In my lifetime, the hoarfrost baths have never failed.”
“Good to know,” I said. I have to admit, Asia’s words gave me a spark of hope. “What exactly is a hoarfrost bath?” The question had been bubbling near the surface of my consciousness since I’d first heard the words. I would never have asked Eudora, and risked looking like a fool in front of her. Now seemed the perfect time.
Asia smiled over at me. It was soul scorching smile, very much like one Alexia might use to get what she wanted, but Asia’s smile was warm and inviting. There was nothing manipulative about it.
“Come,” she said. “Sit with me.” She kissed Rive sweetly on the lips, and he rose to make room for me on the settee.
“I’ll go check on Lara,” he said.
“That would be darling of you,” Asia replied. They exchanged a loving glance, and Rive left.
I knew that Rive was not Asia’s one true love. He was the victim of Nianis, an enchantment used to make him fall in love with her and become her slave, and yet, on the surface, their affection for one another seemed genuine.
I settled into Rive’s spot on the settee, and Asia took both my hands in hers.
“You are aware that the water from the hot spring is enchanted?” she asked.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Good, good. The enchanted water of the spring has incredible healing properties. The hoarfrost bath takes full advantage of those properties.”
“How?” I asked, urging her to go on.
“When a person is dying, every cell in their body begins to perish. A person will die long before all of their cells do. The dying cells are the first symptom of impending death.
“When the body senses a person’s cells are dying, the body’s natural healing abilities kick in. Living cells rush into reproduction creating new cells to replace the dying ones. It’s the same thing that happens when you’re sick or wounded,” she said. She stopped talking and peered into my eyes. “Are you following along?”
“Yes, yes. Please, go on.”
“Living cells work overtime to make new cells to replace the dying. That repair system works quite well when a person is sick because the cells are perishing slowly enough to allow new cells to be created to replace them.”
“But when a person is dying, the cells are perishing too quickly for the body to replace them,” I said.
Asia smiled her warm smile. “Exactly,” she said. “You’re an excellent student. I bet you get all A’s in school.”
“No, not exactly,” I replied with a self-deprecating laugh.
“Well, you should. You’re a smart boy,” she said, and squeezed my hands. “When a Nereid or one of our friends are dying, they are placed in a metal bath tub of enchanted water and flash frozen to thirty-one degrees Fahrenheit. That is one degree below freezing. The freezing of the body halts the continued death of the cells. Death is suspended.” She smiled. “Then the enchanted water begins to mend the damaged cells while they are frozen.”
“Sort of like, healing them in their sleep.”
“Yes, yes, exactly. Smart boy,” she added, and smiled again. “The cells are regenerated while the subject is asleep. The dead cells are all replaced with new, healthy, living cells. Then the body is slowly thawed, allowing the body’s natural healing abilities to finish the job. The natural healing along with the enchanted water, allows a nearly dead person to come back to life. Good as new.”
“That’s amazing,” I said.
“It is one of the great wonders of our world,” she replied.
“And it always works?”
“Always. Although there have been occasions…” Her words trailed off.
“Occasions?”
“Yes. There have been occasions when a subject awakens, and they are different.”
That stopped me.
“Different? Different how?”
“Don’t worry about it, Josh. It’s rare, and inconsequential.”
“Rare or not, I’d still like to know,” I said.
“Asia, Lara is out of the bath.”
Rive had returned to the room. He was gazing excitedly at his paramour as he delivered the good news.
I jumped to my feet. “Where is she?” I demanded, my skin suddenly tingling. It was as if my own cells had died and come back to life, goods as new.
“She’s fine Josh. She’s in her room, resting,” Rive said in a reassuring tone.
“What about Alan?”
“Not yet. He lost a lot more blood than Lara did. His healing will take longer.”
Asia squeezed my hands again. “Go to her. I will send someone up to let you know when your friend’s healing is complete.”
“Thank you.” I said, squeezing back. “Thank you!” I called to Rive.
They were both smiling at me as I sprinted from the room.
The bedding and wallpaper were pink. Framed and unframed poems and snatches of poetry hand scrawled on torn off pieces of loose leaf paper adorned the walls. A few dozen pink pillows of different shapes and sizes that had once been on the bed were now taking up residence on the chaise lounge across the room.
Lara was lying in bed, sleeping soundly. A large pink and black stuffed giraffe stood at the foot of the bed, a trusted sentry.
The room was quiet, and still. No one else was present. There wasn’t a sound aside from that of her gentle breathing. I moved bedside just to make sure my ears weren’t deceiving me.
I was again reminded of a sleeping child, but unlike in Ballona Creek, her chest was rising and falling steadily, and I knew this child would soon awaken, and when she did, I planned to take her in my arms and never let go.
I’d learned so much about myself over the past few days. I was a different person than I was when summer began. I was days away from my sixteenth birthday, and I realized turning sixteen would be very different from when I turned fourteen or fifteen. I’d seen things, horrible things. I’d seen death, and that changes a person.
Lara,” I said softly. When she didn’t stir, I whispered: “I love you. I’ve loved you all my life even though I didn’t know it. But I do now, and I’m not going to let you reject me anymore.”
I kissed her lips. They were still cold and quite hard from her time in the hoarfrost bath.
Lara continued resting peacefully with no knowledge of my presence. I stared at her beautiful face for a while, then I moved to the lounge across the room, threw all but one of the pink pillows to the floor, and stretched out. My body ached from an evening filled with ordeal. My ankle was bloody and swollen. I knew I should tend to my own wounds, but they could wait. I wanted to be the first thing Lara saw when she opened her eyes.
As soon as I lay down, my eyelids grew heavy. I decided to close my eyes for just a moment, and fell fast asleep.
I was awakened by the sound of a tolling bell.
It was as if a church bell was going off inside the Applegate fortress. My eyes snapped open to the incessant bong… bong… bong.
“What is that?” I grumbled, as the deafening sound dragged me from my sleep.
I looked over at Lara on the bed. She, too, was beginning to stir. She propped herself up on an elbow and began taking in her surroundings. At first she seemed not to recognize where she was, but slowly her familiarity with the room appeared in her eyes.
Eventually, her eyes found me on the lounge across the room.
“
Hi,” I said, smiling over at her. “You guys have an awful loud dinner bell,” I said in a teasing tone.
I was expecting a laugh, or even a smile, but
instead her face filled with alarm.
“Oh, God, Joshua! What are you doing here?”
“I came to be with you.”
“What did you do?” She bolted upright in bed.
“Nothing.” I got up and moved bedside where she could hear me better. “What’s the matter? What’s with the bell?”
“You had to have done something, Joshua.”
This was not the reaction I was hoping for.
“I… didn’t. I swear. Why? What’s the matter?”
“That bell—it never rings,” she said. “That bell hasn’t rung in eight years. Send not to know for whom the bell tolls. It tolls for thee.”