INFECtIOUS (27 page)

"I didn't
mean to startle you. I'm very sorry about your Aunt," he says.

Tim must have
told them she's— ——I can't say it.

"Let me
know if I can do anything for you," he offers.

"Thank
you."

"Where is
Rosa?"

"Oh, I made
her a bed with me tonight. Is that alright?"

"Yes,"
he says with a smile. "I hereby pass the torch to you. You are in charge
of her for the time being. I hope she's a comfort and not more stress."

"Thanks.
She is."

"Ben and I
are going to sit downstairs for awhile and plan what we'll say tomorrow."

Tomorrow is
homecoming.
Still only Ben and Jack.
It won't be a
celebration at all. It has turned into a time of prayer and mourning. I won't
be there.

"There is
one thing you could do for me," I say. "I'll set out all the food
that Aunty and I made for the dinner at the U.R. Could you and Ben take it over
when you go in the morning? I won't be going."

"Of
course.
And we'll make sure the lights are off before we go to bed
tonight."

"Thanks.
I'll set out something for you to eat for breakfast too."

"That isn't
necessary."

I just nod and
walk back up to
Aunty's
room.
 

Free At Last

Sometime during
the night, something wakes me. The candles are still burning and by the soft
light I see that
Aunty's
eyes are open. She's awake.

I climb quickly
onto the bed by her side. She glances over at Tim asleep in the chair beside
her bed and looks back at me with a small smile.

"Are you
ok?" I whisper quietly, full of concern. "I'm so glad to see you
awake! Are you hurting? Can I get you anything?"

"Water,"
she whispers.

I hurry to the
bathroom for a glass and fill it with cold water. Back at her side, I tip it
slowly for her, helping her drink. Some of it dribbles down the sides of her
mouth and I wipe her chin with the blankets.

"Ivy,"
she rasps and I worry that she'll wake Tim.

I'm not worried
for his sake, but for my own. I want her to myself. There's so much I want, no
I
need
, to say and I don't know if
this might be my last chance.

"Aunty, I
love you," I breathe. My eyes are swimming with tears and one
slips
out and falls down my cheek, landing on her neck.

I had so much to
say, but I can't find words for any of it. I feel the clock ticking, I know I'm
running out of time, and it makes it even harder to think.

Of all the
things I want to tell her, "Thank you," is all I can come up with.
It's ok because "thank you" sums up all the little things I would've
said. All the millions of things she's done for me and given me.

I brush the
tears from my eyes and see her nod her response to my gratitude. Her eyes are
full of tears too.

Her face gets
serious and she entreats me again, "Don't fall away, Ivy"

"I swear I
won't," I promise again. She looks worried for me and I wish I could think
of something to say that would ease her mind. She lays here in pain, dying, and
her most precious thoughts are for me. I need her to know that she's raised me
well. That I could never leave this Life she's led me in. I think of something,
and though I'm not sure I can carry through with it, not sure my emotions will
let me, I start singing:

"Sing the wondrous love of Jesus,

Sing His mercy and His grace;

In the mansions bright and blessed

He’ll prepare for us a place."

Aunty closes her
eyes but I can tell she's listening. Through my tears, and very off key, I sing
the chorus of the old hymn:

"When we all get to heaven,

What a day of rejoicing that will be!

When we all see Jesus,

We’ll sing and shout the victory!"

It's supposed to
be joyful and victorious but my heart is breaking and I can't stop weeping. I
hope she understands now that I will be there with her. I can't keep singing
,
my sorrow is so deep.

She opens her
eyes again and smiles, understanding my song and my message to her. I'm not
going to miss out on being there with her. I am sure in my faith. I belong to
Him, even if He's taking her. It hurts so badly, but I won't allow myself any
anger at Him. I can't afford even the smallest resentment. I almost walked away
last week and He brought me back. I know how dear that is. Losing her is the
hardest thing I can imagine. To live without my rock, my security, my best
friend is terrifying. I don't know how to take care of myself. She always did
that. I lay my head on her chest gently and hold her. I hear how labored her
heart is and I count the beats. I want to will the cadence to keep going, to
get stronger. But the gentle beats get fainter and I'm
laying
there when they stop.

I let out a
gasping sob and I feel Tim's hand on my back. In a beautiful baritone voice he
softly sings the last verse of the song over us while gently stroking my back
as I weep.

"Onward to the prize before us

Soon His beauty we’ll behold;

Soon the pearly gates will open;

We shall tread the streets of gold."

She's gone. My
life might as well be over. I want to go with her. My heart is chanting,
"Don't leave me here." I lay on her and cry for a long time,
oblivious to anything else.

I Like Muscles As Much
As
The
Next Girl

I'm still
laying
next to her in the morning. I cried myself to sleep
beside her. Tim is gone and Rosa is tapping on my arm to wake me. I don't want
Rosa to be scared, so I pick her up and hurry from the room without looking
back myself. I don't want to see her like that—robbed of her beauty and vigor.
Robbed of life.
She's gone. What is left is the body that
served me and cared for me and loved me. And I don't know what to do about it.
I'm suddenly in charge of it.
Her body.
I need help. I
feel so lost.

I walk down the
hallway with Rosa in my arms and knock on the door to the back hallway—the door
that leads to the back staircase and Tim's guest room and bathroom. I don't
hear anything and no one answers my knock. Maybe he went to the homecoming
service. His job is over now. I thought he would stay—be there for me. I opened
up to him.
Bared my soul.
I'm too consumed with my
grief to feel disappointed, but the hurt is even stronger when I realize he's
gone. I feel abandoned by everyone.

I open the door
and start down the hall towards his room to make sure. Suddenly Tim is stepping
out of the bathroom wrapped in just a towel. He's got a lot more muscle than I
would've guessed was under that green nurse's outfit. His hair is sticking up
in wet spikes on his head and he's not wearing his glasses. I am frustrated and
confused. Mad at him for standing here looking like this in a towel. I don't
know why I'm mad at him because it's his room, but still, it's not decent. I'm
so embarrassed to have walked in on him. I duck my head down into Rosa's hair
and hurry back up the hallway.

"Sorry,"
I say over my shoulder, trying not to look at him. "I thought you left. I
knocked."

"I'm sorry
that you thought I would leave you," he apologizes gently.

His apology is
more sincere. His quiet tone exudes the tenderness behind his words. I don't
know what I think of him or his endearment, but I am relieved to not be alone.

 
I hear a door shut and I glance behind me to
see that he's gone into his room. I don't know where to go. I step through the
narrow door into the back stairwell and pull the door closed behind me. Holding
Rosa close to me, I sink down on the top stair. I can't help but cry
,
my grief is still new and raw. Rosa looks closely at me
and tries to wipe each tear as it falls. She has seen many tears in her little
life and it has made her compassionate. She leans over and kisses my cheek and
looks at me expectantly.

"Kiss,"
I say softly.

She smiles and
kisses my other cheek. I can't help but smile as I see her eyes shine at me.
She is my reason to keep going. I promise myself again that I'll be there for
her and give her what Aunty gave me.

I hear Tim leave
his room and, still sitting on the top step, I gently knock on the hallway door
again. He opens the door and looks down at me as I sit there pitifully. I'm not
embarrassed that he's seeing me be vulnerable. He has earned a trust that I
hadn't intended to give.

He sits down
next to me on the stairs and after a moment of silence he says, "I have to
go tell my Dad. Would you like to come?"

"No,"
I snuffle. "I don't want to see anyone else."

"I thought
maybe I'd bring Rosa to the U.R. It's Sunday morning and I thought she could
play with the other kids in Mr. Jarvis' class. You could probably use the time
to yourself," he offers.

"I guess
that would be ok. Do you think she'll go with you? She might be scared."

"Would you
mind if I hug you?"

"What?"

"She trusts
you. Maybe if she saw that you trust me it would be easier for her."

"Oh."
I guess the logic is sound.

"You just
lost your Aunt.
Your best friend.
I think you could
probably use a hug right now of all times."

I nod and we
both stand up. It feels weird and staged. I'm still holding Rosa and Tim wraps
the two of us in his arms. I know the hug is for Rosa's sake so I try to feel
relaxed. It isn't too hard. He smells clean like soap. He is wearing a
sweatshirt and jeans instead of the scrubs and his shirt is soft. The comfort
of his closeness brings more tears. I let him hold me while I cry. He puts his
face against my head and sort of rocks us. If I had any sarcasm left in me
right now I'd make a comment about how this was devious of him, or how he was
enjoying my pain. But I know it's not true. I know he really cares and hurts
with me. Aunty was right. He is a great guy. Not that I want to marry him. I'm
just agreeing that he's kind.

I pull away
after a minute long hug. That's plenty long enough. Tim reaches over and takes
Rosa from my arms like it's nothing at all—intentionally not making a big deal
of it.

"Let's get
her some breakfast before you go" I say as we head back down the stairs.

After Tim and
Rosa leave, Rosa proudly wearing her Mickey Mouse hat, I am once again
completely alone at the Inn. I take a long shower and get dressed. I sit down
to read my Bible, desperately hoping He'll send me special words of comfort
this morning, and I hear a tap on my window.

Another
tap.

Another
tap.

I look out
between the closed blinds and a rock hits the window right in front of my face.
It startles me and I jump back from the window in momentary confusion. I open
the slats of my dark green plastic blinds so I can see
better
.
I see Matt sitting on the ground behind a bush right beneath my window. He
waves. I slip my shoes on and go around to the back door.

"Matt?"
I call in a whisper.

"Hey!"
He pops up from the bush.
"Nice of you to finally
notice.
I've been stoning your window all morning. I figure with
everyone at "church"—he makes air quotes again—and you stuck in the
house, now would be a good time to go for a walk."

"I
can't."

"Why
not?
Your aunt isn't going to beat you. She'll never know."

I look away and
my eyes swim with tears. I take deep breaths to keep from crying. He looks at
me in confusion.

"She died
last night."

"Oh. I'm
sorry, Ivy."

"Yeah.
Thanks."

After
a long, long awkward pause, neither of us knowing what to say, he says with
forced cheerfulness, "Come on.
Go for a walk with me. I'll show you my secret
way in. I know you're dying to know how I get in."

I am dying to
know that. And I realize there's no one to answer to. I am in charge of my own
life now. Surely the Elder's wouldn't begrudge me the fresh air today. I need
to get out of this house. Being here alone with
Aunty's
body was freaking me out.

"Let me get
my coat."

"Don't
forget that goofy hat,
it's
cold out," he calls
after me.