CHAPTER 33 – WAKING IN A ROOM FULL OF MONKEYS
"Welcome back," Durand said. "You are back now, finally, aren't you?"
Bertin blinked. He seemed to be in a room full of monkeys.
Durand laughed. "If you think you are in a room full of stuffed monkeys, you are right. You are in my sons' room, and they have turned it into a jungle, with the predominant theme being apes, I am afraid. They will outgrow it."
"I hope so."
"Of course, for your benefit, they hung five additional monkeys above your bed, which my daughter, for your benefit, removed with much fuss. She was quite sure that they would give you nightmares. Like you did not have nightmares without them."
Bertin propped himself up in bed, with difficulty. "Good heavens, I feel weak as a kitten."
"As well you should. You are one of an estimated 9,500 persons to come down with a particularly nasty variety of flu in the last week."
"I do not remember hearing about an epidemic."
"That is because you were in the first wave of it. Just like that, it hit everybody. One hour they are all right, the next they are helpless. For that reason the death toll has been very high. People did not have the warning signs to arrange for help. You, yourself, you crashed your car at my doorstep."
"My car!"
"Your precious little car is all right. There were a few dents. Indeed, there are still a few dents, since I did not dare authorize repair work, as much as it costs these days. Mostly you gave me a heart attack. You should not have let yourself get so run down. You would not have gotten sick if you had been looking after yourself better."
"Oh, and no germs have ever made it past your lines of defense, M. Superhuman?"
"Not often, I am glad to say," Durand said.
"I need to call Delachenal," Bertin said, remembering his duties.
"No, you do not need to call Delachenal. He has you off the duty roster for the next three weeks. Indeed, if you show up before you are well, he promises to kick you somewhere near the top of your legs, he said to tell you. You are one of the four out of his squad who have come down with this, and he swears he will kill anyone who brings the disease to his doorstep and infects anyone else."
"I get the feeling that you are holding something back."
"Perhaps we have had enough conversation for just now. Are you hungry? You have not had much to eat for a few days."
"A few days?"
"Five or six, perhaps," Durand said.
"No, I have not been sick that long!"
"You are right. This is the third day you have spent in bed, and the first time that your fever has broken enough for you to be conversant. Don't you feel better, that it was not longer?"
"No. Don't play such games with me. Please. And tell me what it is that you are holding back."
"Your colleague Alette, I am sad to say, also got the flu. With regrets, I must tell you it was too much for her. She died yesterday. I am sorry."
Bertin stared at the ceiling. "She had no family, no one close," he said.
Bartholomew, the Asian cat, let himself into the room and jumped on the bed. Durand began to shoo him off. "No," Bertin said, stroking the animal, "that's all right. Let him stay."
"If you like."
"And she was atheist, too. Do you understand what I am saying? She had no hope."
"Perhaps she found the truth toward the end. Many people do," Durand said. "Oh, I should tell you. Your Aunt Eustacie came to town, and has been staying here. She finally pried Marie-Bertrade outside for some fresh air, but they should be back soon. Perhaps you would like to take a nap before they get here? I won't tell them you are awake until you are ready."
"Eustacie? Here? Oh, Durand, I'm sorry."
"There is nothing for which you should apologize. She has been wonderful in helping to take care of Matthieu and Paul, who decided to emulate you illness-wise, only with not so bad of cases. They are camped in the front room, where they have taken over the television. If it gets too loud, let me know. Everyone else is all right, if tired of the smell of disinfectants and scented candles. Oh, and something else I should tell you. You have been promoted. It is just a tiny promotion, and mostly in status and hardly noticeable in pay, but it is a promotion all the same. Congratulations. Now get some sleep. Unless you think you could eat or drink something?"
"No, I don't think I could."
There was a light tapping at the door. Marie-Bertrade stuck her head in. "Papa, I just wanted to let you know we are back. Oh! Bertin! You are awake! I am so glad! Let me go get you some soup. You have not had nearly enough to eat. One moment. I will only be a moment."
"He says he isn't up to eating just now," Durand said.
"Well, perhaps I could try," Bertin said. "Maybe I could eat a little."
His Aunt Eustacie stuck her head in for a look. "Oh, Bertin. How nice to see you awake. But I do not like your color. Just now, I hate to say it, but just now I saw your face go from red to gray. This is not good. Let's not tell your mother. She would worry, poor soul. But this is not good I regret to say. Everyone out of the room. Out. The poor boy needs his rest yet."
"He needs his nourishment," Marie-Bertrade countered, defiantly. "I am going to get him some soup."
"Oh, soup might be all right. But only clear broth. We mustn't rush things," Eustacie said. "Oh, Bertin? Are you in pain? Why do you scrunch down into your pillow so? Oh, you poor, poor child."
"How brave of you not to groan in your distress, Bertin," Durand said, with a straight face but a twinkle in his eye.
Not Exactly Allies Page 33