April 2019
The cold of winter has vanished and has blossomed into a chilly, yet vibrant spring. While surrounded by nothing but forest, it's hard to see anything other than coarse soil, rocks, pine needles and trees. I can only imagine what large fields would be looking like, filled with small flowers. The sound of birds is far more pronounced than ever before since I've been here––and I thought there was lots of it over the summer.
The house has been quieter, but happier. In the almost two months since Evie died, we've been able to move on, slowly but with promise. After two weeks, Hayden smiled for the first time. After a month, we had a campfire outside, just like old times. We were able to talk and laugh, as we once did. The void that Evie has left is still present, however, it's becoming less persistent, and is starting to become something that is no longer constantly on our minds.
Occasionally, memories of Evie, in one spot or another, still appear in front of me in an attempt to taunt me. They still hurt, but the pain doesn't last for as long as it used to. It's safe to say that we've all been doing better, and have started to heal.
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Today, we're going to unlock the trailer again, and put the stuff from the attic back there. I wouldn't say it's entirely necessary, but it gives us more to do out here, even if none of us would admit to boredom.
As we all bust it open, a ripe smell from lack of air circulation in the trailer emerges. Not to mention the amount of rat feces all over the ground.
"Oh crap," I say.
"Pun intended?" asks Alexa. A few of us smirk. "No but seriously, who's going to be the one to clean this up?"
"Why don't we maybe draw for it, as usual? Four jacks and an Ace?", asks Will. "That'll be fair."
"We could always just burn it down and never use it again," suggests Hayden. Chuck sighs.
"You know what? I'll do it," he says.
"Seriously? You're just agreeing to it?", asks Alexa.
"Yeah, I'll clean it. Then we can all put the stuff back."
"Okay, you do whatever you want. I'm certainly not complaining," laughs Hayden.
"Besides, I made a promise to someone." As Chuck says that, it catches my memory. He said that to Evie last fall when we first locked the trailer. Everyone else seems to notice, as the silence of the moment eventually sends everyone else off in their own directions.
Chuck eventually cleans the trailer, as the rest of us start moving stuff out of the attic. I make several trips, noticing him on his hands and knees, scrubbing the floor away. He occasionally stops to rub his forehead, or his nose, before carrying on. He's sniffling quite heavily––likely from the smell of it all.
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The weather has continued to progress further in the past week, getting rid of the very last of the snow and starting a bloom of leaves on the trees. I've never spent as much time looking up at the trees until now. I enjoy watching the weather's warming effects take place in our forest. It's funny what you don't notice until there's a reason to look for it.
The sun is beaming through the trees, as the campfire is lit outside. I start hear laughter and running coming from behind the house. I see Will and Chuck bursting through the trees. They must be racing. Alexa and Hayden come outside to the sound of them.
"I so won that!", laughs Will, catching his breath. Chuck coughs, before smiling and laughing through breaths.
"No way! That was me!", he replies, standing over the deer. "The rest of you, who won?", he asks us.
"It was Will," says Hayden.
"Yup. Definitely Will," I say. Alexa chuckles. Chuck shakes his head, still smiling.
"Told you," says Will, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. Chuck crouches down and coughs some more before slowly following Will into the house.
As the day carries on, I notice Chuck looking rather flushed. He's sitting by the fire, messing around with our deck of cards, as his eyes follow them wearily.
"Chuck, are you okay?", I ask.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he replies.
"Are you sure? You've been pretty wiped out since the race with Will."
"Yeah, I'm okay. I don't know, maybe it's just because I don't run as often as Will." He pauses. "I'm probably just not used to it," he smiles. I smile back, although I'm unconvinced. My mind immediately begins a medical spiral, less for Chuck's sake, but selfishly for my own entertainment. After a moment, I put the spiral to a stop, realizing a sense of guilt along with it for making it about me. Still, I should keep an eye on him.
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By the time we're all back out at the fire, eating some deer that Chuck hunted yesterday, I've realized that he hasn't left the fire-pit very much. Even as it's gotten colder, the only time he left was to get himself a blanket. Yet, he still struggled to do so.
The conversation around me carries on as usual. I don't think anyone else is noticing the same things about Chuck that I am. He's unusually quiet, and even through the orange glow of the fire and the dark sky above us, he's still flushed red.
"Chuck, are you sure you're okay?", I ask him.
"I think so," he lies. I can even hear it in his voice.
"Why, what's wrong with him?", asks Will, glancing at Chuck.
"He's barely gotten up from the fire today, and looks how bright red his face is!", I exclaim.
"I don't know, we can sometimes just feel extra weird or tired," says Alexa.
"Yeah, Candice. I'm fine," says Chuck. "I'll be right back." He gets up from the fire, slowly, and starts to walk into the forest. I watch him for a minute until he's far enough away. I turn back around to the fire. My thoughts from earlier slowly begin to come back.
After a few minutes of staring at the fire, zoned out, a loud gag comes from the forest, causing us all to turn our heads.
"Chuck?", asks Alexa. "Are you alright?" She and I get up and follow the noise. More gagging, followed by sputtering and spitting, come from where he is standing. Chuck's throwing up.
He eventually stops, before coughing for another minute. He then wipes his mouth and turns to us. He looks even weaker than he did before.
"What was that? You told us you were fine!", exclaims Alexa. "Come on, let's get you back inside." She drags him by the arm carefully and gets him to bed. I unfold his sheets and we slide him in bed.
"Alexa, I'm fine, really. You all don't need to worry. It might've been just something I ate." I roll my eyes at his excuse.
"Chuck, we've all eaten the same thing for the past two years, and this has never happened," says Alexa.
"You should get some rest. We'll see how you feel in the morning, okay?" I tell him. Chuck nods his head wearily, as his eyes are already shut and his head is resting on his pillow. Alexa tucks him back in.
"Don't worry, Chuck. You'll be okay," she tells him. "We'll have Hayden bring you some water when he comes in bed, in case you wake up." Chuck takes a deep breath.
"Okay," he whispers faintly.
"Goodnight," I say to him.
"Mmmm....'night," he mutters. Alexa and I slip out of the room quietly and shut the door.
"That was weird," she sighs. "That's never happened before. You said he was like this earlier today?"
"Well, he seemed tired, and his face was flushed, but he didn't throw up or anything until now." Alexa sighs.
"I'm sure he'll be fine. I don't think it could really be anything bad. I mean, how would one really get sick out here? We haven't been exposed to the world in years!" While for me, it's been about nine months, at times it seems like it's been a lifetime. Most aspects of my life before this seem like bad dreams at times. All but one.
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I didn't sleep at all last night, apart from maybe an hour or two. Sure enough, I'm flooded with memories from my past, of hospital trips, and the smells in the hallway, as well as my handmade Disney Princess medical flashcards. Every once in a while, Jessica would tell me about some rare illness, intriguing me from a young age about the possibilities of what could contaminate the human body, or even change forever. What intrigues me now is how he could even get any kind of illness out here.
I still haven't gotten out of the bed for the day, let alone seen Chuck. For all I know, he could be perfectly fine. My racing mind could've all been for nothing. But still, it drives me crazy. As I turn my head to look at Will, who for once is asleep, I envy him at this very moment. His brain isn't wired the same way, and his experiences wouldn't force him awake all night wondering what is medically wrong with his friend.
I can't seem to take it anymore. Maybe some air will do me good. I throw on a sweater and step out of the room, taking in the fresh spring air and making my way to sit on the cliff. Taking some deep breaths, I try to figure out where my thoughts are going. It's frustrating when you can't even understand yourself and what's happening in your own mind. I seem to be focusing on the flashcards, trying to remember the names on them.
It's strange I'd be thinking of the rare illnesses, where Chuck may just have some sort of stomach flu. Yeah, that's probably what it is. Realizing this, my mind finally begins to calm itself. He'll definitely be okay.
As I make my way to Chuck's room to check on him, seeing he's still asleep, I can tell he looks better. The colour in his face is certainly more regulated, and he didn't touch his water. He's slept right through. Smiling, I shut the door behind me.
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To my relief, Chuck's only remained with a fever over the past four days, even as he's mostly stayed in bed. He seems to be lightening up a little bit each day. Hopefully soon he will start to get out of bed more often. There's been nothing else to indicate that he has anything other than a flu––or influenza, as my aunt would call it. Jessica was always one to call illnesses by their proper names. However, I suppose I don't need to remember my aunt's flashcards after all.
I open his bedroom door once again to check on him. Sure enough, he's the last one to wake up. I bring him some hot soup we boiled.
"Hey, how are you doing?", I ask him. Chuck sits up and smiles, before taking a deep breath.
"I'm feeling a bit better," he replies. He places the back of his hand to hid forehead, then moves it around a few times across his face. "Not as much of a fever right now. I might start to be getting better."
"You probably are," I tell him. "Here, have this, then come on out to the fire. We've missed you out there, you know." Chuck smiles.
"Okay, I will. I could definitely use some more fresh air." I get up from his bed.
"We'll see you outside in a bit," I smile.
"Okay, bye."
The rest of us eventually gather outside, sitting by the fire and enjoying the weather outside. We left the one chair we brought out for Chuck to use.
"It's good to see Chuck feeling better," states Hayden. "It's weird to think how any of us would get sick out here."
"I know, it's not like we've come into much outside-world contact over the past few years," adds Alexa. "Let's just hope that he doesn't spread his plague to the rest of us," she snarks.
"On a more serious note, let's hope that doesn't happen anymore, or at least not often. We can't afford that out here," says Will. "Besides, I don't know what we could do if things got worse." I had never really thought about that, at least not in this situation. Luckily, it seems like I won't have to, since Chuck's getting better.
"I don't think that's something we'll have to really worry about right now," I comment.
The front door of the house opens, where Chuck slowly steps outside.
"Well look, here he is now!", announces Alexa. Chuck continues to step, relatively slowly, towards the fire. He's still carrying a blanket, which he's got wrapped around him.
"Hi everyone," he says. "Here, Alexa, can you help me with this?", he asks, motioning to his blanket. Alexa nods and stands up to help him. She removes the blanket, and lets him sit.
As I watch him sit down, I feel as though I can't breathe, horrified by what I'm seeing. Chuck's lost quite a bit of weight. More than he should for simply having the flu.
Alexa puts the blanket over him as he's seated back in the chair. She then jokingly covers it over his face, as if he were a dead body. That was the joke she had in mind. Chuck quickly uncovers his face, as the two of them laugh.
"Thanks," he smiles. As everyone else watches him, they don't seem to notice. I, on the other hand, feel as though I'm about to be sick myself. There's something else wrong.
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I didn't sleep last night either. By sunrise, I gave up and left.
Making my way back inside, I try to get more sleep. As I slip under the covers, exhausted, I hear Will start to wake up. Oh no.
"Candice?", he whispers. "Are you up?"
"Yeah, I...just woke up," I lie. He turns to face me and opens his eyes, already looking unconvinced.
"Candice, what's going on? You've been acting weird ever since Chuck got sick. Are you worried about him?" I sigh, sitting cross-legged on the bed and placing my head against my hands.
"Yes, I am. Part of me doesn't know why. He should be fine....but yesterday, at the fire, I saw how skinny he had gotten..." Will looks confused. Of course he would.
"So? He just hasn't eaten much because he hasn't been hungry."
"No, you don't get it! It's a more drastic weight loss than from that! I feel like there's more that's wrong." Will sits up and faces me directly.
"Candice, where is this coming from? You're never one to worry about things unnecessarily. You tell me not to all the time. You never dwell on the things that can't be controlled. Why is this so different?" He looks at me more closely, before sighing. "You didn't sleep, did you? I can see the bags from under your eyes!"
I don't answer him, rather think about everything he's saying. It feels different because of my past, the upbringing I had at a hospital. The custom made Disney Princess notepad flashcards, learning a new illness each time and the conversations of doctors are all engrained in my mind forever. I felt a rush, an obligation to save Hayden, and a failure when I couldn't save Evie. But how do I explain this? How do I tell him that my past is guiding my present?
Taking a deep breath, I come up with an answer.
"You know me, and where I've come from. I think....I think there's just a part of me that wants to save everybody. You remember how I felt about Evie?" Will takes a moment to process that, before slowly wrapping his arms around me. A feeling of consolation returns to me as I sink lower into him.
"It's not your job to. You never failed. Chuck's going to be okay," he tells me, before kissing the top of my head. "He's been feeling better, and he was out last night. His immune system likely isn't used to it. That's probably why it's taking longer." I let those words echo in my mind. For once, I ignore the voice in the back of mind, and allow myself to believe him. He could very well be right.
A moment later, we hear a faint cough coming from his room. I quickly sit up, wanting to go to him, but Will holds me back. "Candice, it's fine. It's likely coming in stages. He'll be okay." I fight Will's grasp and walk out the door.
I quickly enter Chuck's room and check on him. He's still asleep. Will's probably right.
I head back into the room and climb back into bed.
"He's fine," I confess sheepishly. "He's asleep."
"Right," says Will. "Don't worry. You need to sleep, though. You won't think rationally when you're sleep deprived." He begins to softly stroke my hair as I sink into my pillow, before quickly drifting off. Luckily, my mind lets me sleep this time.
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As the day goes on, I hear more coughing coming from Chuck, but he continues to insist that he's okay. I still think he's lying, as he looks and sounds worse.
I hear a knock on my bedroom door.
"Come in," I say. The door opens, revealing Alexa behind it. "Yes?"
"Do you remember when the last time we did laundry was?", she asks. "I'm guessing it's been a while, since it's been wet and gross outside, so nobody's wanted to."
"You're right. I'll do it. Give me anything you have."
"Okay, thanks," she shrugs. The truth is, I need the distraction. She hands me a flannel shirt, a black tank top and some underwear.
I collect my and Will's clothes, before going into Hayden and Chuck's room.
"Any laundry, boys?", I ask. "It's been a while.
"Yeah, here," replies Hayden, giving me a few items.
"Chuck?"
"Yes, actually," he says, taking off his shirt, revealing his naked torso and slightly exposed ribs. "I feel like I've had this on for a week."
"Okay, thanks guys." I turn around and head out the door.
"Hayden, can you pass me a shirt? I'm freezing!", says Chuck. I wander off sadly hearing that.
I take the laundry to the pond, and begin to wash them one by one. As I get to the grey long sleeve shirt––Chuck's shirt, I notice there are weird stains around the sleeves. Little spots of darker grey, as well as faint brown, are trickled across it. Weird. I wonder where that came from. I shrug it off and continue washing the clothes.
I bring Chuck and Hayden's items back to their room to let them hang dry. I didn't manage to remove the stain from the grey shirt. As I hang them on the frame of the foot of their bed, Chuck coughs again. I almost flinch at that sound, as it brings me pain to hear. He removes his elbow from his lips, leaving behind another stain on it. There's also some faint, dark spots around his lips. However, he quickly wipes his mouth away.
"Chuck, what's on your shirt?", I ask him. "It's on the sleeve of your other one too."
"Hm? Oh, I think that's from when I was hunting. I dealt with the deer, remember?", he asks. He's lying, but this time, not even on purpose. I don't even think he's aware of it.
"Oh...okay," I reply, unconvinced. "Anyway, here's your laundry. I'll see you later." I hurry out of the room and shut the door quietly.
As soon as it clicks shut, I lean against it, in disbelief. There's blood. He's coughing up blood, and he doesn't even know it. My head is spinning and my breathing is getting short. What does this mean, then?
I squint my eyes shut, desperately trying to remember things Jessica told me. Unfortunately, my brain has shut out most of her memory on purpose, so it'll take more effort. Come on, Candice. I know she was awful, but you need to remember what she's told you, I tell myself. I think back to the last hospital visit I had with her––the most memorable one.
I then remember something Jessica told me. "It's a virus caused by contact from rodents and their feces, which can even be fatal if not treated. It's hard to diagnose, since most people think it's influenza––until they start losing weight and coughing blood. But don't worry, it's not that common." That's what she said. It has to be the one. Chuck was the one who cleaned out the trailer, and was exposed to rat feces. But what was she talking about? What was it called?
Trenta...no...ganta...oh come on, what was it? Wait, it started with an "h". It was something like.....helta, henta....."
I almost hear a shatter of glass go off in my brain as I figure it out.
Hurriedly, I prop myself off the floor. I need to tell someone. I bolt out the front door and trek through the slipper mud, desperate to find someone. I then slip, landing on my left side.
"Damn it," I mutter. I examine myself, as half of me is now slathered in wet mud. Whatever, there are more important things at stake.
I notice the bow and arrow are missing. It was Hayden's turn to hunt. That's where he is.
"Hayden!", I call out, as I begin to run in the direction of civilization. "Hayden!" After a minute, I see him, crouched down and aiming at something. "Hayden!", I call again. He finally turns around and notices me. He shushes me from afar, and signals for me to be quiet. I ignore it and continue to run towards him. I finally stop to catch my breath, before hearing something in the bush nearby run away.
"Thanks a lot," he says frustratedly. "I was about to catch that." I continue to gasp for air, as Hayden begins to eye me up and down, before chuckling to himself. "Why does half of you look like it fell in a sewer?" I hit his arm with my clean hand.
"Very funny, Alexa," I laugh. He continues to smirk at me. I then remember why I came, as my smile fades.
"Seriously though, what's going on?", he asks, now looking more concerned.
"I know what's wrong with Chuck."