INFECtIOUS (21 page)

What Has Two Thumbs and
Four Fingers?

Aunty finally
comes in the backdoor at 8:00 p.m. I scurry from the kitchen where I was
filling my time with cleaning and washing dishes. As Aunty turns from hanging
her coat, I stifle a gasp. She is covered in blood. Her hair is disheveled and
standing up on one side. Her face is as white as the guest room sheets. She
looks haggard as her eyes meet mine and she watches me appraise her. I've been
planning an onslaught of questions for her, but they are forced aside by the tsunami
wave of concern that floods through me.

She slumps
uncharacteristically through the kitchen door and I hurry to pull out a chair
at the table for her. She digs into the plate of leftovers that I had ready for
her. The dinner I cooked and ate by myself—venison in gravy over leftover
biscuits from lunch with home-canned green beans—isn't warm anymore but she
devours it. We sit in the kitchen by the light of homemade candles and
kerosine
lamps.

We've always
eaten the Sunday evening meal by candle light, a tradition from the first
Sunday I spent here at the Inn. Aunty was trying to make those
days
special and fun for me. She says it's the first time
she saw me smile that week that I came to live with her. The flickering lamps
are always cozy and relaxing on a cold winter evening, but they do nothing for
me tonight. The smell of
kerosine
used to make me
wrinkle my nose, but I've grown so used to it I hardly notice it anymore. Aunty
sighs and takes a long sip of her tea before finally speaking.

"Thank you,
Ivy. I know you've been stuck here worrying all day. I really needed to
eat,
I haven't had a morsel all day." Even her voice
sounds exhausted as though she had been screaming all day and strained her
throat.

"How is
Thomas? Is he going to be alright?" I ask in a whisper to match
her's
.

Her tired eyes
lift in surprise and she tilts her head with a glare of suspicion. "How
did you find out? You didn't leave the house did you?"

"No.
Harmony came by to tell me." I fight the defensive, insulted feelings that
rise in response to her accusing eyes. I haven't given her enough reasons to
think the best of me lately.

"
Ahh
.
Of course."
Her
face softens and she sips at her tea. "Well, yes and no. Thomas will live,
but unfortunately we weren't able to do much about his injuries. He lost most
of his right hand."

"What
happened!
I heard Matt is back too?" She must hear the
hope and longing in my voice because she looks suddenly grave.

"Yes, he
is. But Ivy, even if you weren't confined to the house I would insist that you
not go looking for that boy. He isn't for you. If he turns to The Lord at some
point then we can reconsider. But for now, I don't want you to even consider
the thought. He was very angry and violent with the guards and I'm not sure
exactly how this happened to Thomas.

"Matt would
NEVER hurt Thomas!" I'm so sure of this that I adamantly defend him.
"He brought Thomas back to us, didn't he? And just last week you were the
one defending him and asking me to treat
him
kindly!"

"Yes, he
brought Thomas back, but I wouldn't be at all surprised if he intends to take
him again when he's recuperated. Either way, he's made it clear that he won't
be staying long. I just hope he'll leave Thomas when the time comes. Without
his right hand, Thomas will have to learn to use his left hand which will take
time. He'll need to be watched for infection until the deep wounds are
completely healed. He'll need constant care. Hopefully Matt will realize the
foolishness of taking him now. And yes, I asked you to treat him with decency
and kindness, not fall in love with him! I do believe that he was sent here by
the Lord and that God is calling for him. But he may or may not respond. That's
in God's hands."

"Did he say
when he'd be leaving?" I ask with misty tears in my eyes.

"He didn't
say much that I could repeat. He was very angry. Apparently, he blames us for
Thomas' condition. Though I'm sure he's really upset with himself for letting
Thomas get hurt. He had to wait outside the gate for almost an hour while
Thomas lost more and more blood. The guards on duty didn't know him and didn't
know what to do. There wasn't a protocol for what to do when one of the
infected stands yelling and cursing at the gate, demanding to be let in all the
while holding a bloody boy in his arms. They refused to let him in. Apparently
Anthony was on duty and overheard what was happening on the radio. He ran to
the West Gate and insisted that Matt and Thomas be let it. He brought them to
the Dr. and then sent for me and Ellen. Unfortunately, the other nurse, Joy,
was home with a bad flu and wasn't able to be any help to us. Thomas was
completely unconscious by the time I saw him, and very near death." She
pauses to take several sips of tea and I realize
she
holding back tears of her own.

"Is he still
unconscious? Is Matt still with him? Harmony heard that Matt is being kept at
this new guy Andrew's house? How come this Andrew guy is suddenly in charge of
the town and I've never even heard of him?"
 

My questions
would've kept coming for as long as she kept sipping, but she holds her finger
up to quiet me and continues recounting. I learned long ago not to interrupt
her while she's explaining something, she really hates that. Harmony and I can
have long conversations where we interrupt each other and overlap each other
and change the subject three times in two minutes without realizing it. It's
how we work. But I have to be careful not to do it when Aunty is talking
because she takes it personally. Interrupting is "unladylike" and
"disrespectful." She'll stop talking until you apologize and beg her
to continue whatever it was she was saying. I'm desperate for info, so I wait
patiently for her to speak again.

"Thomas was
still unconscious when I left. He had lost a lot of blood and needed a blood
transfusion. The only one there with compatible blood was Ellen. Actually Matt
had the same blood type as well, but he refused to give Thomas his blood."

"What!"
I exclaim, despite my efforts to not interrupt. "That doesn't sound like
the same guy who was desperate for his little brother last week!"

"He was
afraid he'd give Thomas back the disease. He begged us to find someone else's
blood. We tried to convince him that Thomas wouldn't get the disease again,
that Thomas still has the disease in his blood, but he wouldn't listen. He was
watching his little brother slip away with grievous injuries and we weren't
really dealing with a rational Matt at that point. So, even though Ellen was
the only trained nurse there, her blood was compatible and, of course, she was
willing. It meant even less help from her and more required of me—and I'm no
nurse. It was very trying for all of us."

She sips.

I wait.

"Hale had
to work frantically for many hours at what would've been hard for several
doctors. He has Tim very well trained as a nurse aid and Tim was invaluable to
us today. The two of them worked as quickly as possible to get blood back into
Thomas while trying to repair all the injuries. The poor dear had been stabbed
seven times, and his hand was just hanging off. He got more stitches than I
could count and I did a lot of the stitching. Hale wasn't able to repair all
the nerve and bone damage in the hand. We are hoping that the thumb will heal
ok, but even that is a long shot. He lost the other four fingers and some of
the hand itself. We've given him the last of the strong pain medicine. He'll
probably wake fully sometime this evening because of the pain and we'll only
have Tylenol for him. It's going to be a hard recovery. For now, they are
keeping him at the clinic; but I'm sure Ellen will want him moved home to her
house as soon as he's able. She's sleeping at the clinic with him now. Jose is
there, too. Pray for them, Ivy. Pray that God will ease his pain."
 

Another
sip of tea.

She's choosing
her words for me about Matt—selectively—and I just wish she'd tell me
everything!

"Matt was
taken, by force, to Andrew's house. He was very angry. Yelling and knocking
things over at the clinic.
Blaming us for taking too long to
let them in.
We had to get him out of there so Hale could concentrate.
It took several guards to pull him away. He has a lot of rage and hate in his
heart, Ivy. I know you saw the good in him," she preemptively holds up a
finger to silence my next round of arguments, "and so did I."

My heart sinks
at her word "did". Not "I do see the good in him, but I did
see."
Past tense.

"But he is
not Living," she continues as my eyes fill with tears. "He is his own
man.
Full of sin.
I don't know what the plan is. I
only just learned where they had taken him as I was leaving. Andrew is Dr.
Markowitz's oldest son. He was with a small group of the Living somewhere near
Atlanta. They were attacked and killed two weeks ago,
every
one
but him. He came here because his family is here. The Elder's were
impressed by his testimony and his skill in security and knowledge of Pravda's
dealings. They asked him to help make us more secure here. That's all I know.
Dr. Hale Markowitz has raised some intelligent, impressive sons."
 

She looks me
pointedly in the eye with this statement. I look away. I'm not particularly
fond of either son.
 

"Well dear,
I'm exhausted. Thank you for that lovely dinner. I must say I am very glad to
have you back."
 

She smiles and
her warm blue eyes look strange on her haggard pale face. Hugging me to her,
she kisses the top of my head. I lean away from the dried blood on her shirt
and she looks down and seems to notice the gory state of her appearance for the
first time.

"We are so
blessed to have each other Ivy, family is precious. I kept thinking of you
today and counting my blessings that we are together. That we have
Life!"
 

I smile back,
but don't admit that my thoughts are running wild—longing for a glimpse of
Matt's crooked smile. She starts to clear her dish from the table, but I jump
up and take it from her.

"You go, I
know you're tired. I've got this."

"Thank
you honey.
I am very tired. I think I'll go to bed early."

I'm alone again.
Loneliness and worry fight to pull me back out of God's peace-filled hands,
tempting me to listen to their whispered lies. I finish the dishes quickly and
take my tea to my room. I have a lot to pray about.

The Bones Are Full Of
Flavor

It's Monday
afternoon and my in-house work station is almost completely set up right
outside of my bedroom door. This comes with good news and bad news. Which do
you want first?

I'm a bad news
first kind of girl, so I'll lead with that. The bad news is they've sent Tim to
set up my computer.

BLAH.

He probably
volunteered. I've had to spend the entire afternoon with him hanging out right
outside of my bedroom. I had to feed him lunch, too. But really, the bad news
isn't that bad since it brought the good news.

The good news is
Tim has spent the morning with Matt. Tim knows all about what's going on and
it's
information I am desperate for. So, I'm being a little
sweeter than normal with Tim because I am dying to know everything he knows
about Matt.
And Thomas.

That's not bad
of
me,
I'm supposed to be sweeter and nicer.
Just because I am more interested in his boring conversation than
normal doesn't make me a bad person.

"I brought
you some ice water," I say, returning from a quick break in the kitchen
with my smile fixed in place.

"Thank you,
Ivy," he says with obvious surprise and unmasked glee. He pulls himself up
from the tangle of cords on the floor, his too-big brown glasses sliding down
his nose.
  

"Sure,"
I say, fighting to maintain my smile as his hand lingers a moment on mine when
he takes the cold glass. "It'll be great to get back to work. I'm going
stir crazy here already. It was nice of you to come over and do this for me. I
am a trouble-maker you know," I add sarcastically.

"They just
want you to be safe, Ivy. We all do," he adds with so much concern in his
voice it makes me nauseous.

Keep that smile
on, Ivy, I tell myself.

"Well,
you've been hanging out with zombies lately, too." I try to encourage him
to bring up Matt again on his own. "Maybe they'll lock you up next."

"You aren't
locked up, Ivy. We're just worried for your safety. I'm not being threatened by
Pravda."

Rub it in.

I scowl at the
mention of my mysterious enemies and Tim continues, "And I'm not hanging
out with anyone. My brother has to be out most of the day with the other guards
so someone has to check on him in his cell, and feed him."

"In
his cell?
You have him locked in a cell!" I say this with way too much
emotion and I see Tim furrow his brow and look sideways at me over the computer
monitor. I try to recover by dialing it down a notch. "I mean, why not just
kick him out? Let him go back to wherever he came from?"
 

"I don't
know what they are going to do with him. He's definitely dangerous. Anyways,
I'm just trying to help out. I don't spend much time there. Your aunt gets more
out of him than I do."
 

I'm sucker
punched. She had been out all morning, but I assumed she was helping with
Thomas. She never mentioned Matt when she came home for lunch.

Tim sees my face
and assumes
it's
fear. He actually puts his arm around
me and says, "Don't worry Ivy. You're safe here. He'll be gone soon and
everything will be ok again. My brother is working hard to figure out who tried
to hurt you. It's his number one priority. I've told him how great you
are."
 

I think I'm
going to be sick.

I mumble,
"Thank you," and go in my room and shut the door.

A little while
later, Tim knocks on my door to tell me he's done and that he's leaving and
asks if I want to come see the computer set up. I don't want him to see my red
eyes—heaven forbid it might lead to him trying to touch me again—so I tell him
thank you through the door and say I'm busy. He sounds disappointed and says
"Bye" and it sounds pitiful like he's leaning against the door. I
wait 5 minutes to be sure he's gone and go out and lock the front door.

I hear pots and
pans banging around. Aunty must be cooking dinner. An inner mental debate
ensues. Should I just come right out and ask
her,"Did
you see Matt today?" I doubt she'd
lie
to me. Or
should I wait and see if she brings it up. She knows how interested I am, how
much I want to know what's going on with him.
If I don't ask
and she doesn't say, then what?
I don't want to be pouty or angry. We
just repaired our relationship. I decide to be direct. It's the healthiest
course of action.

She's cooking
vegetable soup with venison scraps. I walk over to the stove and inhale deeply.
The aroma of fresh dried herbs mixed with the earthy smell of the potatoes and
carrots and the savory scent of venison makes a magical concoction that
threatens to pull my stomach out through my nose. The bones sticking up out of
the pot look gruesome, but they'll make the broth rich and delicious. I'm not
tired of venison yet. We've been eating it almost every night to use it up
while it's fresh. When we have meat we use every last bit of it. We'll even use
the leftover fat, for making tallow candles. Tallow candles work as well as the
kind we've salvaged from stores over the years with one distinct difference.
Tallow candles make you hungry. They smell like meat cooking. I'd rather smell
rosy candles or vanilla candles or unscented candles than candles that smell
like pot roast.
 

Aunty is humming
to herself as she bustles around the kitchen. She scoots me out of her way to
add another ingredient to the simmering pot.

"You saw
Matt today?" I ask while her back is to me as she stirs the soup.
 

I see her
shoulders slump. She was hoping I wouldn't find out. She sighs and answers me.

"Yes. Tim
told you."

"You
wouldn't have?"

"Ivy, I
really wish you could focus your thoughts somewhere more productive."

She means she
wishes I'd focus them on Tim. I feel misunderstood and frustrated and I can't
help the little rant that bursts out unchecked. "Just last week you were
lecturing me about my over-productiveness. YOU wanted me to be a normal teenage
girl who likes boys. I like one and I'm still wrong."

"Let's not
fight Ivy. I'm too tired."

"Why is he
in a cell?"

She sighs again.
I'm informed and not going away.

"He's made
several threats against the community. We have to take them seriously. We are
on thin ice, Ivy. We might have to move the whole community.
Which
I don't even know how we'd accomplish without a miracle."

"Will you
tell me what he said?"

"He
threatened to kill the guards who wouldn't let him in. He says he'll bring
Pravda here if we don't let him out and give him Thomas. So, we aren't sure
which threat to be more worried about. If we don't let him out and he should
escape, we'll have to consider that he may be telling the truth and might bring
Pravda here. Since our recent brush with them, we already know they are
interested in us. If we do let him out, how do we ensure the safety of the two
guards? And I'd imagine that he's not too thrilled with Captain Markowitz
either."

"Captain
Markowitz?"

"Andrew,
dear."

"Captain
Markowitz?" I repeat again this time rolling my eyes. "So what did he
say to you?
Just more angry threats?"

"No, he was
decent with me. He let me tend his wounds in exchange for information about
Thomas."

"He's hurt
too? How hurt? And why did you need information about Thomas?"

"Yes he had
several deep cuts and his face took quite a beating. He can barely open one
eye. He needed to be cleaned up and I even gave him a few stitches," she
sounds proud of her medical prowess.

"But why
did you need information about Thomas?" I ask again.

"I didn't,
he did. I had to bribe him with information about Thomas' condition to get him
to let me care for him. He was refusing care and I hated to see him all
bloodied up. Captain Andrew stood guard with a
taser
the whole time so I was relatively safe."

"Of course
you were safe! This is ridiculous. Matt wouldn't hurt
anyone,
he was just worried and upset about Thomas. He wouldn't do any of those things
he said. You know that Aunty, can't you tell them to let him go?"

"You are
going to have to trust me, Ivy. I've never exaggerated the facts before have I?
Do you find me embellishing other people's stories and looking for drama where
there is none?
 

"No."

She's right.
If anything she always down-plays a serious situation.
Looks for the best in people.
It must be pretty bad if all
she's saying is true.

"I'm taking
some of this soup over to the clinic," she pauses, "I'll bring some
to Matt and Andrew too."

I think she's
doing it just for me. And if I can't see him, I do like thinking that he'll eat
some of our soup. Maybe he'll think of me.
 

"Thank you
Aunty," I say as I hug her tightly.

"You're
welcome dear," she says while shaking her head at me. "You really are
a teenage girl aren't you?"
 

I smile
sheepishly.