Chapter 10: A Time to Heal

Elphaba's world became a series of images, swirling and fading into one another, sometimes animated, sometimes eerily still. The corn exchange, strangely lit, was the most common vision. In it, she felt Fiyero's body pressed against hers. Her senses were heightened as she relived the first time she'd pressed him against the smooth, cool wood of the wall. She could feel the heat of his skin on hers, and it was more than sexual. He felt so wonderfully real, the way he embraced her completely, wholly. All the things she loathed about herself ceased to matter when he looked into her eyes. She could smell his scent and feel the coarseness of his hair, until the memory faded and changed.

Then, she was once again surrounded by swirls of sticky, blood-stained, black hair that seemed to suffocate her. In her delusion, she clawed at nothingness and called out Fiyero's name until her sleep became mercifully dreamless once again. She would rest heavily for a time, and then her mind would fix on him again, trying to find some healing in the only lover she'd ever known.

Mae refused to leave Elphaba's side. She kept a vigil, watching the sun set and then rise, only nodding off sporadically. She had dressed the wounds as best she could, and was pleased when her work was complimented by Doc Joseph. He declared most of Elphaba's injuries to be superficial, including a few broken ribs. She had bled heavily from the blow to her head, however, and infection had set in from the long journey back to Amber Plains. Both Mae and the doctor had done all they could, and Mae had prayed unceasingly for Elphaba's recovery. The night before, Elphaba's fever had finally broken, and Mae could only pray that the drugs the Doc had given were taking hold.

This afternoon, tears pricked Mae's eyes as she pressed a cool cloth against Elphaba's face. She was gentle, avoiding the ugly, grayish welts and the long, crimson line of the wound that ran from her left temple to her chin. She reached for her favorite hair brush and began to work it through the long, supple locks of Elphaba's hair. This was the first time she'd really seen it, because the green woman kept it tied up so tightly.

Mae was brushing her tears away when Wilbur approached her from behind, shuffling across the room in the fading summer sun, "Mae, you must sleep. It's been days…" he softly pleaded.

"I'll be fine. Ain't never heard of no one dying from a few days lost sleep," Mae snapped, more harshly than she intended.

Wilbur took her hand, and she gave him a long look, silently apologizing. They could do that, after nearly forty years together.

"I'll make some more coffee," Wilbur offered, padding quietly into the kitchen.

Mae couldn't help but wonder, as she absentmindedly brushed Elphaba's hair, what the younger woman saw in the nightmares she was obviously having. Her lips would mumble incoherently, as her eyes flitted beneath her lids. She also grasped at nothingness, and Mae would try to still her.

Tessy burst through the door just then, shattering the palpable quiet that had settled over the Proctor home. Her hair was a wild cloud of ochre corkscrews, not nearly contained by the strip of cloth she'd tied around her head. Her dress, once yellow, was faded and dusty. She kicked off her grimy boots, out of respect, and dropped her satchels on the floor. Then she crossed the room to where Mae sat.

"I'm sorry I was gone longer that we thought. Jacob's household was mighty concerned and Maiara wanted to talk with me before I returned," Tessy explained, having spent the past few days in White Springs, collecting her things and seeing that Jacob returned safely to his family.

"It's good to have you back, and perhaps get to know you a little better," Mae replied.

"Hope it's all right that I brought most of my things. Wasn't sure how long I'd be staying. I do appreciate your hospitality, though."

Mae surveyed the bags Tessy had dropped, "If that's all your things, space will certainly be no problem."

Tessy caught the hint of teasing in Mae's voice and tried to smile in return. She saw Elphaba, then, and rushed to her side. She hadn't seen her since they had left her several days earlier, and Tessy was visibly shaken by the ugly bruises and her friend's complete lack of consciousness.

"Oh Elphie…" she whispered, her voice cracking a little.

Mae raised her head slightly at Tessy's easy use of the pet name.

"Elphie?" the older woman questioned.

"She asked me to call her that," Tessy explained quietly, "It seemed important…it seemed to mean…something…"

"It seems a little soft, for someone so…" Mae let her sentence trail off.

"I know," Tessy finished the thought, "but I think not everything about her is so hard. At one point, she must have opened herself up, to this Fiyero."

Mae studied Tessy for a moment, "You're a wise one," she finally concluded.

"I suppose I have to be good at somethin'" Tessy teased softly.

Mae gave her a meaningful look, "Maybe you're just what she needs. Maybe you're the sister she lost, or never had…"

Tessy took Mae's hand across Elphaba, who lay between them, "And maybe you're a mother who needs a daughter…"

Mae's eyes flooded and the tears spilled before she could catch them. She stood suddenly to wipe them away. There was no way Tessy could know that she'd lost a child. It would have been out of character for Elphaba to tell her. This stranger could not know how Mae had hurt, how the quiet loneliness nearly drove her to madness. Still, it felt like this wise, unexpected new friend of Elphaba's was giving her permission to be a mother again, without betraying the child she had lost so tragically. Mae finally smiled a little, through her tears.

"Get some rest," Tessy ordered, though not unkindly, "I'll stay with her."

Mae nodded, clearly exhausted. She climbed the steps wearily, with one last grateful smile.

Tessy sat very still for a long time, watching Elphaba's slow, rhythmic breathing. Wilbur left her a steaming cup of coffee before finally retiring himself. She let her thoughts ramble as she considered this person who'd been a stranger only a few weeks prior. Tessy thought over Elphaba's sporadic, bitter revelations about life and love. She considered her own past, the loss, confusion, and lack of justice that colored her memories.

In the darkness, after night settled in, Tessy lost some of her courage. She had put up a strong front for most everyone, and she had been strong for her new friend. Now, she finally let tears spill down her cheeks at the unfairness of life. Tessy felt her strength fading a notch at the blows, both literal and ephemeral, that Elphaba had been dealt. Feeling very lost, Tessy reached out to whatever might be beyond them all.

God? If you're out there, I sure wish you'd turn our way just for a moment…

She left it at that, not sure for what else she should ask, and not sure there would be an answer.