Sojourner (9 page)

Now that’s small-town life.  When I look interesting, you know it’s got to be a slow day.  Shelly turns back to her book, and we talk about the different projects and how to complete them, and while I’m enjoying myself, I can also tell that the headache which is now stabbing my brain isn’t going to get any better so I tell her I should probably head home.  Once I get there, I crawl into bed, hoping sleep will drive the pain away.

Chapter Five

Another nightmare.  I jerk upright and try to silence the screams with my pillow.  My body rocks back and forth.  Back and forth.  Tears roll down my face.  I ache deeply.  I look around the room at all my things to remind me of where I am.  My laptop, my books, my compact discs.  Signs of this present life, not some dreams which haunt me.

Sweat plasters hair to my face, and the night air chills me.  Shivering, I throw the blankets back and pace the small room, hoping the cold night air will really wake me up and take away the emotionless eyes of Lev Walker.  He is a stone, unblinking, unmoving, unfeeling as he watches me die.  A keening sob starts low and fills the air as I fall to my knees, the panic so overwhelming it’s hard to breath.  I’m still kneeling there when the alarm blasts a rock song.  The beat shudders through me.  Trembling, I force myself to turn it off.

Knowing Jimmie will be home soon, I rush to the bathroom and head to the shower so the warm water will wash away the nightmare.  More sobs.  I lean against the shower wall as hot water sprays my body, and I sink to a squatting position.  I stay there until the water turns warm and then suddenly cold.  Even with a turtle neck, a sweater, and jeans, I find myself shaking and sweating.  A fever, maybe?  I don’t feel so good, but I’m not about to stay in bed all day with nightmares that haunt me even when I’m awake.  The trick is getting past Jimmie because if he realizes I’ve got a fever, that is exactly where I’ll end up.

In order to hide the pallor of my cheeks, I carefully apply my make up, and style my long hair around my face, but I’m moving slowly this morning, with a body sluggish from illness and sleep deprivation so I’m barely put together when Jimmie walks in the door.

“Hey, Lizzie, you awake?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right down.”  Sweat beads at my temples and I blot the residue, careful not to smudge my makeup.  Once I’ve put myself together, I grab my book bag and head down stairs, my hand gripping the banister tightly for balance.  My head swims, and for just a second I wonder if going to school is a good idea.  Then I think about the nightmares and keep walking.

“Hey, you all right?  You’re awful quiet this morning.”  He frowns.

“I’m fine, Jimmie.  Just haven’t caught up on my sleep yet.”

Staring at his expression, I can tell that he sees something wrong but he can’t tell what it is.  That troubles him all the more.  The smile I offer does its job to settle his nerves, at least as much as they can be settled these days.  But still, even though he doesn’t say anything, he can tell that something doesn’t look right for me but says nothing, figuring it will pass.

I wish it would.

“I went ahead and had a whole new set of tires put on instead of just one.  You gonna have breakfast?”  He nods toward the kitchen.

“I’ll get something at school.”  Feeling myself still sweating, I figure I’d better get out of here before it shows.  I can feel his gaze hovering as I walk out the door, and I know he’s worried.  That’s trademark Jimmie.  He reaches for things to worry about the way most people strive to breathe.  It’s instinctive and round the clock.

At the Jeep, I wipe the sweat from my forehead and get in, shivering.  Right now I don’t think there’s a way I can get warm enough, and I’ll be lucky if I don’t get sent home.  On the drive, my whole body aches and the fatigue crawls under my skin, forcing me to roll the windows down just to stay awake.

I dump most of my books into the locker but keep my jacket on.  Otherwise I’ll be shaking uncontrollably with my teeth chattering.  Even before I close the locker door, Griffin finds me.  He starts to drape his arm over my shoulder but I quickly shrug him away, which causes him to really look at me.  He shakes his head.

“You all right, Lizzie.”

“I don’t feel good, so I’d rather be left alone.”  Even for me, that is a short, rude comment, but I can’t help myself.  I draw a deep breath in, trying to clear the cobwebs layering my brain.  I need the one thing which I can’t give in to these days…sleep.

“Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Griffin says caustically, his eyes flashing darkly.

I grip the locker to keep my balance anchored.  “Look, I’m tired of pretending to feel something beyond friendship, Griffin, and today, I’m sick.  Can we just not do this, please?”  The world is spinning slightly and I can’t breathe well.  Is it the flu?

“Gail is right about you.”  He shakes his head and steps back.  “See you on the flip side.”  Then he walks away.

I’m too tired to worry about his injured male pride right now.  I close and lock the locker before heading to history.  Just before I reach the door, I have to stop and blink a few times to refocus my gaze.  It swims with the florescent lights.  It is then that I feel someone touch my shoulder.

“Griffin, can’t you just leave me alone,” I mutter, feeling as though it’s taking everything I have to keep standing.  I refuse to look at him.

“The good news is that it’s not Griffin,” another male voice says.

Lev stands there.  The minute he sees my face, he frowns and shakes his head.

“You don’t look well.”

“I’m okay.”  I force myself to walk inside the room and put my books at the desk, ignoring Griffin’s harsh stare.  Then I walk up to the front of the room to Mr. Maguire.

“You look terrible, Ms. Moon.  Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” I manage, still shivering.  “May I get a drink?”

The bell rings right then and he nods.  “Are you sure you should even be here?  You’re sweating like you have a fever.”

“I just need a drink,” I say, quite sure that is far from all I need.

“Go ahead.”

“Thanks.”  The hallway is deserted and I use my hand to feel along the wall as I head to the fountain.  My body is sluggish, as though I’m already in a dream.  But at least there are no soldiers here.  No Lev who wants me dead.

Ten feet from the fountain I realize I should have stayed home as the dark curtain of the world slips down and I fall with it.

“Lizzie?”  Jimmie’s voice.  He tries to coax me from the blackness, but I roll over, trying escape.

“Let me sleep,” I murmur. 

I feel a hand upon my forehead.

“You’re burning up.”

Then I drift back.  Soldiers appear everywhere.  Guns.  One looks at me and raises it.  Then the strangest thing happens.  The Lev in my dreams appears in front of me.  He raises his arms, and the air shines around him.  The soldiers walk past me.

Lowering his arms, he turns and looks at me, his skin reflecting the brilliant sunlight, and I feel the cool ocean of his eyes wash over me.

“You’re safe,” he whispers, his voice strong and sure.

In the sluggish real world, someone wraps their arms around me, cuddling my body, but the draw of exhaustion is too great.  Lev is still there in my mind, and suddenly I slip down the rabbit hole of dreamless sleep.

A throbbing in my head forces me to rise to the surface of the blackness.  It’s like swimming in dark water and realizing that I’m too deep so I begin to paddle upwards.  When I open my eyes, my surroundings blur in dim light and a stabbing pain tells me how much unconsciousness has muted the discomfort.  Then I shiver, suddenly freezing.  I reach down, searching for my comforter, but only a sheet covers me, and I can’t find a blanket.  Although disoriented, I don’t feel the nightmares, as though they have just been inside my head, creeping around.

Where am I?

“Lizzie?” Jimmie says, suddenly leaning forward in a chair beside the bed.  I know it’s his voice despite my still blurry vision.  “You awake?”  He strokes my head, probably checking my temperature. “Still too warm,” he murmurs and stands.

“It’s cold.”  I try to draw the sheet higher.  “Can I have a blanket, please?”  I keep blinking and the surroundings slowly begin to focus.

“No,” Jimmy says.  “Your fever is high and covering up will only insulate the temperature.”

“But it’s cold!” I say, on the verge of tears.  I’ve never liked the cold.  Shivering, I cling to the sheet, but it’s not enough to drive away the freezing sensation.

Jimmy pushes the nurse button on the bed rail and starts pacing.  One hand rakes through his hair and he looks haggard.  Rough stubble lines his cheeks and jaw, and I wonder how long I’ve been here.  I start to ask when the door opens, admitting a nurse.

“Could you check her temperature?  She’s burning up.”

“Sure,” the nurse says, pulling out a thermometer that she waves behind my ear and then glances at the reading.  Without saying anything, she consults my chart as I close my eyes.

“Well?” I hear Jimmie ask impatiently.

“102.5.  It’s about time for another round of Acetaminophen to help bring it down.”  I hear her set the chart down and the door opens.  “I’ll be right back with some meds for Elizabeth.  Try to keep her awake if you can.”

A hand sets atop mine.  “You heard that, kiddo.  I need you to stay awake until the nurse gets back.”  When I don’t open my eyes, he says, “Lizzie?”

“What?” I ask, trying to focus on his voice, not the icicles impaling me each second.  I think the shivering is worse, as though there isn’t even a sheet covering me.

“Open your eyes.”  He strokes my hair, the same way he used to when I was a kid.

Despite the pain in my head which is worse with the florescent lights, I force my eyelids open.  “There.  Happy?”

“Not entirely,” he whispers, his voice tinged with pain.  “How long have I been here?”  I try to read the clock, but my eyes don’t focus very well.

“A day.”  He starts to say more but the door opens, admitting the nurse with a couple of pills in a small plastic cup.  She walks to the other side of the bed.

“Can you sit up?”

“Yeah.”  I start to try, but Jimmy doesn’t wait.  He slides one hand behind my back and gently lifts so the nurse can dump the pills into my mouth.

“Take a drink,” Jimmy says as the nurse holds the straw to my lips.  I take a deep breath and then sip the water to wash down the pills.

“Can I sleep now?” I ask, still clinging to the sheet.

“Yeah, you can sleep.”

I’m reaching for the blackness, trying to find a hole to slip down when the door opens.  It’s just the nurse, I tell myself.  But the voice tells me something else.

“How is she?”  It’s Lev.

I turn to see him, my vision hazy.  No matter how much I blink, I can’t clear the distortions.  His face seems clear enough, but to his side, it appears a large white shape, something attached to his back?

“Lev?” I say, my throat dry.

He peers down at me and steps over.  I reach out to touch the whiteness, dispel it as an illusion or a trick of the light.  It’s so bright.  My hand almost reaches it, but he gathers my palm into his and squeezes it.  His blue eyes center on me, and I savor his warm skin.