by BWWM Club
Elizabeth floated close to the door as Tisha walked in, leaving it open so fresh air could waft in. “What a handsome man,” she commented in her breezy voice, watching Tisha retrieve her basket and lifting it up on the table to begin preparations for Chrissa’s medicine.
“A bit of a hulk, don’t you think?” Tisha replied.
“A hulk?” Elizabeth chuckled. “I forgot you like your men less beastly, so to speak.”
“He wasn’t beastly! Just . . .” Tisha searched for a word, “mountainous.”
“Yes, I suppose he wasn’t your type,” Elizabeth murmured morosely.
“Why do you care so much about my type?”
“I’d like to see a man around here so I can see some children. You’ve become boring in the last five years. I need some stimulation.”
Tisha didn’t answer. She removed the titian from her basket and began searching for her knife. She needed to first cut the root and then squeeze the juices into the concoction she’d made the evening before. As she worked, she thought about the attack on Hank. She wondered why the teenage weres had attacked him just because he was human. She hoped the new worship building fulfilled its purpose, which was to teach tolerance. Anyone could worship there, no matter what deity he or she worshiped. Tisha prayed to her goddess that the villagers would not only learn tolerance, but would also apply it in real life.
“I wish I could figure out how to make a tolerance potion. I’d spike the water supply,” Tisha mumbled under her breath, drawing Elizabeth’s attention away from the window.
She floated to the table to watch Tisha as she worked. “I wish you’d find someone to give your love potion to.”
“I wish you’d mind your business.”
Elizabeth let out a ghostly snort. “Tisha, I’m a ghost. I have no business. So I mind yours.”
“I’m so lucky,” Tisha replied sardonically.
Elizabeth ignored her tone and continued. “In my day, a woman your age would be married.”
“I’m sure. But in your day, weres were the minority. Things were different.”
“Not that different. Although maybe a little better,” Elizabeth said. Then her transparent brows furrowed. “Of course, people died at a younger age then. Damn you, dysentery.”
Tisha giggle. Elizabeth often damned dysentery, the disease she’d contracted from drinking water straight out of a creek. Elizabeth had entertained her with the disturbing details of her lengthy illness and painful death. She was fascinated by the fact that Tisha had a medicine that eased the symptoms of dysentery and often, if caught early enough, could cure it.
Elizabeth interrupted her thoughts. “You know, Tisha, you’re such a beautiful woman. Your skin is the color of cocoa mixed with just a splash of milk.”
Tisha smiled. “What a lovely compliment. Thank you.”
“And that ample ass and bountiful breasts! I bet when you walk through the village, all the men turn to look at you.”
“And you’ve ruined it,” Tisha commented. “I sometimes wonder if you were really a man back in the day.”
“Nope. I just appreciate a beautiful woman. And a beautiful man, for that matter. Of course, I never get to see one of those.”
Tisha finished the medicine for Chrissa and poured it into a glass bottle. She placed the stopper in the opening and carefully put the bottle into her pocket. She cleaned her work area and put away her supplies. She’d learned from her mother, who’d had the same gifts as she possessed, that a dirty workspace hurt more than healed because inappropriate substances may get into the potion or medicine.
“I have to go into town, Elizabeth,” Tisha said.
“Poor Chrissa. Her illness reminds me of mine,” Elizabeth said.
“Don’t start feeling sorry for yourself,” Tisha warned. “And don’t put bad vibes out there. I’m hoping to figure out what’s wrong with her so I can heal her.”
“No bad vibes from me, Tisha,” Elizabeth replied as she floated up to sit in the rafters. She looked around. “Oh yuck.”
Tisha looked up at her. “What?”
“There are snakes up here now.”
“Good. I prefer snakes to mice any day.”
“Until one falls on your neck.”
Tisha rolled her eyes for the hundredth time. She closed the door and latched it, shaking her head with a smile. She and Elizabeth bickered constantly, but she couldn’t imagine her life without her. What would she do if I ever actually brought a man home? Tisha thought with a giggle as she followed the road that led to the village two miles away.
*****
Tisha hurried into the village and made it to Chrissa’s family’s home by eleven that morning. She rapped her knuckles against the door and waited patiently for her mother to answer. The door swung open slowly, and Chrissa’s mother smiled wanly at her.
“Oh, goodness. You’ve not slept at all, have you?” Tisha asked gently.
Chrissa’s mother, Betia, replied hoarsely, “I couldn’t. Her breathing is so shallow. Oh Tisha, I’m so scared.”
Tisha put her hand on Betia’s back and rubbed. “I know it’s scary, but you have to rest so you can take care of her. If you get sick, what will happen then?”
“I know, you’re right, but with Mateo gone until next week, I’m the only one here.”
“Of course. Let me have a look at her. I brought a potion I think will help,” Tisha said. She sidestepped around Betia, who moved to close the door. “Oh, Betia, leave the door open. Some fresh air in here will do you both some good.” As they moved to the back room where Chrissa’s bed was located, Tisha had another thought. “Also, if she feels up to it later, you really should take her out into the sunshine for a bit. Not too long, though. You don’t want her to get too hot.”
“The doctor said the dark would be better for her,” Betia replied.
“Has the dark helped so far?”
Betia chuckled mirthlessly. “Not a bit. I’ll take her outside after you leave.”
Tisha reached the bed where the little girl slept. She touched her forehead; she didn’t feel nearly as warm as she had yesterday, but she still felt warmer than she should. When Chrissa opened her eyes, Tisha’s widened. They were bloodshot like a drunk man’s, and she seemed unable to focus on her.
“Good morning, lovely,” Tisha said quietly. “How are you feeling?”
The small shoulders shifted in a shrug. “No better,” she whispered. “But not worse.”
Tisha smiled. “I like that attitude. Your fever seems lower than last night. Have you been drinking lots of water?”
“Mama wakes me up constantly to make me drink,” Chrissa replied with a pout. “Tell her to stop.”
“She’s doing what she has to so you can get better.” Tisha pulled the medicine out of her pocket. “Want to go outside in the sun later?”
Chrissa brightened perceptibly. “Yes, please!”
“I’ll remind her,” Tisha said, glancing back at Betia with a wink. “And now I’m going to make you mad. You have to take this potion.”
“Potion?” Chrissa looked at it with the distaste of a twelve-year-old. “Do you mean medicine?”
Tisha chuckled. “I do. But let’s pretend it’s a magic potion. Sounds much more fun.”
Chrissa sighed the sigh of a martyr. “Fine. Do I have to drink all of it?”
“Every drop if you want to get better.” Tisha un-stoppered the medicine and handed it to her. “Bottom’s up, lovely.”
Chrissa upended the bottle and drank it in one gulp. A smile flitted across her face. “It didn’t taste that bad.”
Tisha leaned closer and whispered, “I put some mint in it to take away some of the bitterness.”
“Thank you,” Chrissa said. She laid back down and murmured, “I think I’ll go back to sleep now.”
Tisha rose and followed Betia into the front room. Betia handed her a basket full of eggs as payment, which Tisha gratefully accepted. She loved eggs but hated chickens and didn’t want to raise an
y of her own. She loved receiving eggs as payment.
“Oh, thank you so much! You know how I love eggs,” Tisha said.
“No, thank you, Tisha,” Betia said. “I’ve never been more scared in my life.”
“I’m hoping this medicine will work. I’ll come back in the morning again to check on her.” Tisha hugged Betia. “Don’t forget to take her outside after she wakes up.”
“I will. Thank you so much for everything,” Betia said.
*
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