Five Sisters (14 page)

It took Charlie two months to travel back to Laraford. He'd meant to go say hello to the girls while he was in town, but never did. He hadn't seen them in quite a few years and he was afraid they might not remember who he was. Besides that, he was ashamed to show his face again after he hadn't been around for so long.

Before Sara knew what she was doing she'd risen from the chair and wrapped her arms around Charlie's neck, burying her head in his chest and drying her tears on his old sweater. For two years she'd been trying to forget about her parents and get on with her life; she would remember them fondly of course, but she didn't like to dwell on their deaths. And now, all at once, the tears she'd held back for months were suddenly flowing and Sara couldn't have stopped them if she tried.

At first, Charlie was a bit uncomfortable when Sara embraced him; he didn't know what he was supposed to do. But he finally loosened up a bit and set his hands on her back, holding her close.

Neither knew how long they stood there, but it seemed to last hours. Sara continued to weep into Charlie's chest, while he patted her back awkwardly.

When Sara finally lifted her head, her eyes were red and tear-stained. She bit her lip and looked up into Charlie's eyes. Ever so slowly, she felt herself moving in closer and closer. Their faces were barely more than an inch or two apart.

Sara closed her eyes, but then all at once she felt Charlie's arms drop as he backed away. When she opened them again he was halfway across the room.

"Charlie . . ." she said slowly.

But he wouldn't meet her eyes. Looking towards the floor, Charlie scratched his head and with a hoarse voice he said, "You, er . . . You'd better go start dinner, Sara. Your sisters are probably waiting."

Sara nodded and left the room in silence.

Trying to run her mind back over what had just happened, Sara went blank. She didn't know what she'd been thinking or why she'd felt herself leaning in. Feeling terribly confused, she didn't head to the kitchen, but instead crept downstairs and into the seemingly empty dining room. There, she sat down and leaned back against the wall, pulling her legs up and burying her head in her knees.

The wind was howling on deck, causing quite a bit of difficulties for the sailors as they tried to keep the boat steady by working with the sails. Gail, although she would normally want to be in on all the action, was heading downstairs to have another go with Nathaniel.

His room was as stuffy and as ever and filled with that ominous smell of a sick man. Gail managed to smile as she entered, but her grin wasn't returned.

Nathaniel grimaced at the sight of her, "What are you doing back here so soon? I thought I made it quite clear that I . . ."

"Yes, yes, you did make it clear," Gail nodded, trying her best not to make him angry, "But I . . . I just thought that perhaps . . . Well, we didn't really get off to the best start did we? I'm sorry about everything I've said and I'm sorry that I've yelled at you a few times. I'm sorry about the cup and I'm sorry I forgot you. I really didn't mean to. I-I just got a little preoccupied, is all. But I really want to make up for all that. We could play a game if you want, like last time. Chinese checkers or cards . . ."

Nathaniel stared at her for a moment or so, scrutinizing her intentions as well as deciding whether or not he really wanted to give her another chance after all the trouble they'd experienced in their first three meetings. Finally he sighed, "I suppose so."

Gail grinned, "I'll be back in a moment."

She returned with her Chinese checkers board and sack of marbles and then proceeded to set the game up between them.

The game started off well enough; neither Nathaniel nor Gail raised their voice and they were actually having quite a pleasant conversation.

"So have you lived in Laraford your whole life?" Nathaniel asked, jumping one of his marbles across the board.

"Until now, yes."

"And you're heading to Brighton, if I remember right."

Gail brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes, pondering her next move, "That is correct, Mr. West."

"You never told me why though."

"Oh, well my oldest sister, Mary, is getting married soon. And since her fiancé's parents live in Brighton, and he's attending school there, he and Mary have decided to live in Brighton. And because we don't want to be separated, my sisters and I are going to move there as well." Gail leaned forward to move her marble into a new hole, "I've only just realized you haven't even met my sisters yet. Well, no matter. You will soon enough, I sure."

Nathaniel nodded politely, "I look forward to it."

"And what about you?
Have you always lived in Laraford?"

"Yes, but I have had to travel around quite a bit, usually accompanied by a nurse or two, to see various doctors about my condition."

"And that's why you're going to Brighton too, I suppose?"

"No," Nathaniel shook his head and moved one of his marbles, "I'm going to Wickensville. It's a bit farther down the coast than Brighton, so we'll get there first, I believe. But yes, I am going there to see a doctor."

Gail nodded and looked down at the board to contemplate her next move, but she wasn't really thinking about the game, "If you don't mind my asking . . . What exactly
do all
these doctors do to you?"

"Well, usually they just perform various tests to try and determine what my condition is exactly."

"What kind of tests are they?"

"Er . . . well, it varies from doctor to doctor. I've gotten quite a few odd medicines and ointments I'm supposed to try. It's a bit scary, really, to take a big gulp of some unknown substance, but I usually just have to trust the doctor's word. Besides, the effects aren't usually
too
bad. I did have hives once though, from some mysterious ointment a doctor gave me up north. And there was also some thick, syrupy liquid that made me turn a bluish color and start shivering like mad.

"But the worst was when this one doctor, I believe he was a bit psychotic, gave me some violet powder that I had to sprinkle on my tongue. I really shouldn't have done it after looking at the man; it was quite obvious that he had some screws loose, if you know what I mean. For an hour or so everything was fine. The doctor thought that his concoction hadn't worked so he just went to bed, but I stayed up reading for a bit. Then, all of the sudden, the strangest feeling in the world came over me. It started in my toes, giving them an eerie, tingling feeling and then slowly crept up my legs. I simply ignored it, and continued my reading, but soon the feeling was traveling up my torso, down my arms, and through to my fingertips. They became frozen in place, and no matter how hard I tried I couldn't move them. Then suddenly the book dropped onto my lap, no longer held by my rigid fingers, and my arms dropped limply.

"That oddball doctor later explained that some chemicals he'd used had reacted in a way he hadn't expected, or something of that sort, and caused me to basically become paralyzed from the neck downwards. It lasted a week- one of the worst weeks of my life. I had to have a nurse stand by me all hours of the day to feed me and hold a glass of water up to my mouth so I could get a drink."

"How terrible!"
Gail exclaimed, "I can't even imagine it."

There was a silence as the game continued, when suddenly a loud clatter of thunder sounded just out of Nathaniel's porthole. Gail rose from her seat and looked outside at the dark waves, looking much rougher here than they had on deck.

"It's not raining yet," she said, returning to her chair, "But I have a feeling the storm is going to start pretty soon. It's taken long enough."

Nathaniel nodded, "It's been thundering all day."

"And it's been really windy too," Gail agreed, taking her turn, "I love storms."

"So do
I
." Nathaniel reached out for a marble, but as he did so his arm began to shake with large tremors. With his free hand, he grabbed the arm, attempting to stop the jerking, but failing. Gail sat silently, and bit her lip. She knew that Nathaniel didn't like to be thought of as weak, and tried not to stare for fear he should be angry with her again.

"Are you alright?" she asked in a small voice, "Is there anything I can do?"

Nathaniel shook his head, but wouldn't let their eyes meet, "No, nothing. Thanks though."

Wearily, he used his controllable hand to choose a marble and made a move without even thinking about it, desperate to remove attention from himself.

Gail understood by his wandering eyes that he didn't want her to feel sorry for him, so she stared at the board to contemplate her next move and hopefully give Nathaniel enough time to improve the state of his jittery arm, which he was now sitting upon in an effort to hinder its trepidations.

Raising a hand to rest her chin on, Gail tried to continue focusing on the board but couldn't help glance up as she saw that Nathaniel seemed to be getting worse. His trembling arm wasn't the only problem anymore. His face was growing whiter and whiter, the color draining from his cheeks, and his breathing was becoming heavier.

Gail gulped, but tried not to sound too concerned as she asked, "Are you sure you're alright, Nathaniel?"

"Fine, fine," he replied quickly.

Gail nodded and bit her lip again, turning her attention back to the game board and staring at the jumbled patterns of red and yellow marbles. They became a blur as she heard Nathaniel cough. She tried her best to ignore it, but then he began to cough louder and harder; it was as though he couldn't even breathe.

Remembering the last time this had
happened,
Gail quickly straightened up and reached for the tall violet bottle of syrupy liquid that she'd used the last time he'd erupted into a fit of violet coughs, holding it up for Nathaniel to see.

"Would you like some?" she asked worriedly, "Would that help?"

Nathaniel shook his head, using his free hand to grab a handkerchief, hold it to his mouth, and suppress his continuing coughs, "I'm fine."

Gail nodded, but as she stared back at the board she knew he was lying.

Slowly, though, his coughs diminished. Gail finally moved her marble, after the rather large interruption, but when she looked up she didn't see Nathaniel sitting contently again as she'd expected. He was lying back on his pillow, as pale as a ghost.

"Are you alright?" Gail asked for what seemed like the hundredth time that afternoon.

He didn't answer.

"Nathaniel," Gail repeated, "Are you alright?"

Nathaniel blinked, his eyes glazed over and looking as placid as two gray stones. "I don't much feel like playing anymore," he murmured, his voice hoarse.

"Alright," Gail nodded, "Alright. We don't have to play a game."

It didn't seem that Nathaniel could hear her; he stared at the wall with a blank expression.

Gail didn't know what she was supposed to do. Leaving the marbles where they were, she moved the game board off of the bed and onto the dresser. Nathaniel still hadn't moved. Gail stood up and walked to look out of the window again, but Nathaniel lied frozen.

"Would you like anything to drink?" she asked quietly, "I'm a bit thirsty myself."