When Everything's Said & Done (6 page)

“Annette! What’s wrong?” Cora rushed over and knelt beside her sister. The hot fetid air rushed into her lungs.

“All of a sudden I felt dizzy, and sick to my stomach.” Annette’s voice was weak, breathy. “I tried to make it back inside the village, but I couldn’t.”

“That’s okay. It’s okay, baby girl.” Cora lifted An
nette to her feet. Her dress was soaked with sweat. “Let me help you.”

“I’m sorry,” Annette apologized. “I must smell awful.” “Don’t worry about that.” Cora was shocked by the heat coming from Annette’s body. “You’re going to be okay. ” But because Annette could barely walk, it took them a good five minutes to make it back to the village.

“Don’t take me to the infirmary,” Annette whispered. “I want to go to our place.”

“Whatever you want,” Cora replied as Annette’s eyes wavered. “We’re almost there.”

Winded, Cora lay Annette across the bed. “I’ll be right back,” she told her and ran out the door.

The schoolchildren were in the middle of singing

“Jesus Loves Me” when Cora reached Brenda. “Where’s Reverend Peter?” Her eyes searched the village.

“I think he’s in the church. Why? Why are you look
ing like that?”

“Annette’s sick. I think she’s got the village fever.” Cora looked at the ground but she couldn’t hide the fear that was carved into her face. “She looks worse than any of the others I’ve seen.”

“Where is she?”

“In our hut.”

“Class is over right now,” Brenda announced. “I’ll go to Annette. You find the reverend.”

Reverend Pete and Cora arrived at Annette’s bedside in a matter of minutes. Brenda had taken off Annette’s soiled clothes and was dressing her in a lightweight cot
ton gown.

The two sisters watched as the reverend checked An
nette’s throat and eyes, took her temperature and listened to her chest.

“She’s got the same thing, all right. But it seems to be progressing faster, more aggressively, probably because she isn’t a native.” He looked at Cora and then Brenda. “I’m going to start her on the antibi
otics, and we’ll just have to keep a close watch over her and see how it goes. If we had a vehicle. I’d just take her to the hospital.” He looked down at Annette. “Now, I think our best bet is to do what we can. The supply truck should get here at any time.

And if we need to, we can have them take Annette to the hospital in the city.”

Reverend Pete opened his medical bag. The leather crackled because it was kept in the refrigerator. He studied the contents and then he touched each bottle. “What’s wrong?” Cora asked. “Can’t you find it?” “There’s a little here.” He held up the near empty bottle.

“Is that all we have left?” Brenda’s voice held alarm. “I hate to say it, but it looks that way,” Reverend Pete replied. “All our supplies are low, including the medicines.”

Cora looked into Annette’s frightened face. She knelt beside her and softly patted her head. “It’s still going to be all right, baby girl. You just know that. The supply truck will be here at any moment.”

Reverend Pete administered the antibiotics and left the room through a crowd of villagers who had gath
ered at the door. One of the barefoot children stepped inside, her eyes wide with concern. “Miss Ann-net sick?” “Yes, she is.” Brenda put her arm around the child’s shoulders.

“I’ll be fine,” Annette said in a thin voice.

“See there,” Brenda assured him. “So you all can go on. She needs to be alone so she can rest.”

But Brenda and Cora’s words did not prove to be true. Annette got sicker as the day turned into night and the supply truck did not arrive. They took turns sitting
at her bedside, trying to keep her hydrated with water, although that was the only thing Annette would let pass her lips. Early the next morning she seemed to become more lucid, and Cora was glad to see a semblance of consciousness in her eyes.

“Cora,” Annette whispered. “I want you to write a letter for me. I want you to write a letter to Michael and make sure he gets it.”

“You just wait until you get better, Annette. I think that’s the kind of letter you need to write yourself,” she advised with a twinge of guilt.

“No. No. I want to write it right now.” She turned her head from side to side against the pillow. “I don’t know if
I'll get well and—”

“Don’t say that.” The words came out harsher than Cora wanted. “Don’t you He there and say that, Annie.”

Annette just looked at her through clouded eyes.

“I’ll write the letter for you if you really want me to, but I don’t want to hear you say that again. Okay?” Cora fought the sting of tears.

Annette nodded, slowly.

Cora knew exactly where Annette kept her stationery and pens. She was the only one of them who had writ
ten back home consistently, most of the time including a sentence or two from her and Brenda. Cora took up the pen and paper and sat down quietly, making sure she did not awaken Brenda. “Alright. I’m ready.”

“I want...” Annette stopped speaking and swal
lowed. It appeared to be painful. Cora offered her more water, but she refused. “I want you to start it with ‘Dearest Michael,’” Annette started her dictation.

“This is not the first time that I have written you since we have been in Africa.” She spoke slowly. “But it is the first time that I am going to be bold enough to say the things that I believed a moral woman would never say to a man who is not her husband.”

Cora’s hand trembled as she placed the period behind the word husband.

“Since the very first day when you moved into the apartment above us, I have dreamed of being with you in every way a woman can be with a man. As you can see, my thoughts have not all been pure, but they were all based in love. If I never get the chance to tell you to your face—”

Cora put the pen down. “I’m not going to write this.”

“Please,” Annette beseeched her.

“I can’t,” Cora said, shaking her head.

“Ple-ease.” The words had more strength than An
nette appeared to have.

“Okay.” Reluctantly, Cora picked up the pen again.

“I want you to know, I love you, Michael Dawson, and always will. Now,” Annette rasped, “let me sign my name.”

Cora watched as Annette signed it Annie, and then
laid back as if it had taken more than she had. She took the letter and slipped it into the envelope. Afterwards Cora drifted into a troubled sleep.

Morning came and found Brenda and Cora awake. Annette was weaker than ever.

“I’ve go to do something,” Brenda said. “I’m going to go up to the top of those rocks and see if I see the supply truck coming.”

“All right,” Cora replied. Despite a night of sleep Brenda’s face looked drawn from worry. ,

Cora bathed Annette again, but this time she noticed a cool clamminess to her skin that had not been there before.

“I’m cold, Cora.” The words were no more than a series of breaths.

Quickly, Cora took the sheets and covers from their beds and placed them all around Annette. “Is that better?” “Yes,” Annette said with effort. “But I believe I’m so cold because I’m afraid.” Her weak eyes focused on Cora’s face. “I’m afraid to die.”

Cora started to shake her head.

“And I’m ashamed because I’m afraid. I should be happy because I’m going to see God.” Annette closed her eyes and began to breathe through her mouth. “But instead I’m afraid.”

Tears flowed down Cora’s face as she leaned over her sister. “There’s no need to feel ashamed, baby girl.” Gently, Cora placed her hand on Annette’s face. “You
just concentrate on getting well.” But Annette’s eyes were closed, and she gave no response.

Cora turned toward the entrance to the hut when she heard footsteps. Brenda stepped inside. Her eyes were red. Her mouth trembled.

“You didn’t see the truck?” Cora asked.

Brenda nodded. “It’s here.”

“It’s here?” Cora’s voice rose. “Well, where is the medicine?”

“There isn’t any.” Brenda’s voice quaked. “The re
frigeration unit broke down and the antibiotic is no good.”

“No good.” Cora repeated the words as if she didn’t understand.

“No.” Brenda replied.

“No good,” Cora repeated as she walked over to Brenda. “But we’ve got to be able to do something. We can’t just let her die while she’s on a mission for God,” Cora cried.

“What can we do?” Tears spilled down Brenda’s face.

“Maybe I can find some herbs that will help.”

“What? ” Brenda wiped her nose that had begun to run.

“There’s got to be something like goldenseal or Echi
nacea here.” Cora brushed past Brenda. “Stay with her.”

“Where are you going, Cora?”

“I don’t know. But I can’t stay here and do nothing. Just wait. I’ll be back.”

“Don’t leave, Cora. She might—”

“I’ll be back,” she promised.

By the light of dawn Cora searched the nearby for
est for any herbs that might save Annette. When the Rain Chief found Cora there was dirt in her hair, and her face was streaked with mud created by her tears.

Like a spirit he walked up to her. “You look for this?” The Rain Chief held out a plant.

Cora just stared.

“You look for this for Mis Ann-net.”

Cora took the plant. She smelled it. “This will help Annette?”

“Yes,” he said.

She looked at the plant and then at the man with disbelief. “Why didn’t you show it to us earlier?”

“Reverend Pete teach faith that God will heal. Pete have the medicine of God in the needle. This—” the Rain Chief shook the plant “—we use to heal the fever before we have the medicine of God.”

Cora was dumfounded. “You knew how too cure the fever with your own herbs but you never said anything because you thought it was against the Christian God?” The Rain Chief simply looked at her.

She pushed herself off the ground. “We’ve got to get the medicine to Annette. We’ve got to hurry.” Cora grabbed his arm. “Annette needs this. Reverend Pete doesn’t have any more medicine.”

When they reached the hut, there were villagers gathered outside. Cora pushed through the crowd, pulling the Rain Chief behind her. When she stepped inside the room she saw Brenda sitting in a chair. Her eyes were closed. Slowly, a sound erupted from Brenda’s throat, a sound Cora had never heard before. Cora turned toward the bed where Annette lay. A sheet covered her entire body, including her face. Cora screamed so loud the jungle went silent.

Nebia’s Story...

“Annette died?” Sheila asked. “Why did she have to die?” She shook her head. “You could have made up something else for that part of the story. Miss Nebia.” She sat back in her chair.

“But Annette did die,” Nebia said softly. “This is a true story, and I must tell it as it happened.”

Everyone was silent.

“When did it happen?” Cynthia asked.

“That was back in nineteen seventy-seven. Annette was nineteen years old.”

“If she had lived we’d be the same age,” Erica said softly. “I was still in college when Annette died.” She paused. “So did they have a funeral and everything for her back here in St. Pete?”

“Yes, they had a funeral. And everybody was there. Everybody except Cora.”

CHAPTER
7

Laura’s knees buckled when the first shovelful of dirt splattered against the top of the coffin. If it wasn’t for Brenda and Nebia she would have fallen beside the gaping hole that held Annette’s body in an ornate box. “I didn’t want them to go no way,” she moaned. “I didn’t want them to go to Africa.”

Brenda struggled with her mother’s grief. “Come on, Mama. It’s time to go home.” Her eyes and her voice were full of tears. “Everyone is gone now.”

“She’s right. Miss Laura.” Nebia spoke into Laura’s ear as Laura leaned against her. “Annette is happy where she is now. You know in your heart that she’ll always be with you. That we never really die,” Nebia said as she strained under Laura’s weight.

Laura took control of her body and nodded. She looked at the coffin one last time, and then turned away from the grave.

Michael fell in step behind them as they headed for his car. He was proud of the deuce and a quarter that he bought right after the Nova died, but Michael had never envisioned it as a funeral limousine.

Financially, things had begun to look up for Michael. His mother’s only brother died and, since he was childless, what little he had he left to Michael. The inheritance was enough to convince the SBA that Michael would have a vested interest in his insurance company, and they approved his loan. With the money, he bought his licenses, permits and bonds and opened a small space, Dawson Insurance.

Michael was the first to reach the Oldsmobile. He held the door open as he waited for Laura and Brenda to climb into the backseat. Nebia sat up front beside him. There would have been plenty of space for Cora who was lithe and limber, but Cora wasn’t there.