Chapter 26: Care

When the trio went down to the shop the next morning, Ms. Zhu was (as always) already there, preparing for the day. However, she was not preparing in any of the usual ways. She was putting an odd assortment of pottery on a table in the center of the shop and carefully moving some of her most delicate pieces to high shelves, as if she was expecting a flood.

"Good morning," she said to the three of them, not taking her eyes off of an ornate vase she was removing from the display window. "We have a very important day today."

"We do?" Smellerbee asked.

"Yes. The elementary schools have an annual trip around town, visiting various local businesses and learning about different trades."

"So in a few hours this place will be overrun by toddlers?" Smellerbee asked. She did not feel prepared to take on a bunch of children.

"It'll be about an hour and they'll be ages eight to twelve, so not toddlers," Ms. Zhu answered dryly. "I'll worry about talking to them. Longshot, I want you working the wheel so they can see someone in action. Jet and Smellerbee, you'll have to standby and make sure they don't break anything." Smellerbee imagined herself trying to pull a child off the shelves as he climbed.

"How?" she asked.

"Just stand nearby. The more eyes on the children, the less likely they are to be destructive." Smellerbee and. Jet exchanged looks. They hadn't signed on for this.

:–:–:–:

The day was long, hectic, and tiring, but they got through it.

The children came through in class groups all day and each time Ms. Zhu would give the same speech and the children would watch in awe as Longshot made a bowl or pitcher or teacup or whatever it was. Smellerbee was surprised he could even concentrate; the kids never seemed to get what being silent meant and were always fidgeting around for no apparent reason. Well, most of them for to reason. One boy ran out the door in what Smellerbee thought was a mad escape attempt until she heard him vomiting. He was quickly escorted home, one of the teachers muttering, "Chicken Vulture virus," under her breath. Other than that, the day went pretty smoothly.

Many of the children did seem genuinely interested in pottery and loved watching Longshot work. They'd gasp and clap and ask him questions that Ms. Zhu would answer for him. Smellerbee and Jet did as they were asked and stood by the shelves, and whenever a bored or mischievous child would wander over, they needed nothing more than a sharp look in order to stop them. Smellerbee was actually feeling quite good, pleased with how the day was going, until shortly after the children left.

They were cleaning up the shop, putting everything back in its rightful place, when Smellerbee started feeling ill. She tried to focus on moving the pottery but her hands were shaking. She sat on the wooden chair by the kiln and held her head in her hands. She felt dizzy and tired and nauseated. She felt Longshot walk up beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. Are you okay?

She bolted from the shop and made it out the back door just before she vomited on the ground, over and over again until she felt as though her stomach itself was trying to force its way out through her esophagus. She leaned against the shop wall, breathing heavily. Her nausea, at least, had gone away, though her legs felt shaky and weak. She closed her eyes.

"Come on," Jet's voice said from the doorway. "Let's get you upstairs." Jet and Longshot helped her walk slowly up to their apartment.

The boys helped her get in bed and Longshot moved a bucket beside her.

"I'm feeling better," she told him. "It must have been something I ate."

"We eat all the same things," Jet said. "Wouldn't we be sick, too?" He and Longshot exchanged a look. "That's what I was thinking, but it doesn't really make much sense."

"What?" Smellerbee asked.

"Have you ever had Chicken Vulture virus?" Jet asked.

"What's that?"

Jet and Longshot looked at each other again.

"Come on. Everyone in the Earth Kingdom gets Chicken Vulture virus when they're a kid."

"I didn't," Smellerbee said.

Longshot glanced at Jet and Jet said, "That's right. You never went to school, did you?"

"No, I had a tutor," Smellerbee said uncomfortably. She was starting to feel ill again.

"That's got to be it, then."

"What is Chicken Vulture virus?" she asked.

"That kid today had it. It makes you puke – you know, like how a chicken vulture does when it's threatened? You only get it once, then you're immune to it."

"Okay, so I should be fine, then."

"Well, not quite."

"What does that mean?"

"It usually lasts about . . . what? Twelve hours?" Jet looked to Longshot, who nodded.

"So I'm going to be like this for twelve hours?" Smellerbee demanded. Both boys looked at her and nodded. She groaned and dropped her head back on the pillow. "I don't want to be sick."

:–:–:–:

An hour later, Smellerbee was retching again. Jet had left to buy whatever he could find to make her feel better, and Longshot was playing nursemaid, bringing her water and putting cool, damp cloths on her forehead. Despite Longshot's efforts, however, Smellerbee was still in bad shape, feeling steady sicker and sicker as the hour progressed until she finally began vomiting.

As soon as she was finished, she lay back on her bed, a cold sweat covering her entire body.

"I hate this," she said softly. Longshot sat beside her and moved one of the damp cloths across her forehead and neck, wiping away the sweat. He gave her water so she could rinse out her mouth. When she was done she turned away from the bucket and closed her eyes. "I'm so tired," she said softly. She heard Longshot get up and take the bucket out of the apartment and down the stairs. A few minutes later he returned and placed the now-clean bucket beside her and sat down again. Smellerbee's nausea had, once again, faded away, and she was starting to hope they'd made a mistake about how long the virus lasted. Maybe she wouldn't puke again.

But within a half an hour, she knew that the boys had been right, and she was in for a rough night. She was feeling ill again, but not so ill that she was about to retch at any moment. This was the worst part: the buildup.

:–:–:–:

When Jet finally returned he came bearing a basket full of random things: crackers, fruits, dried herbs, and honey.

"I got the recipe for some sort of tea thing that's supposed to help," Jet explained as he and Longshot examined Jet's purchases. "Hang on, it's all written down here." He pulled out a piece of paper and showed it to Longshot. The two of them got up and headed towards the kitchen, but not before Longshot nudged the canteen lying in the bed beside Smellerbee. Keep drinking. She did as she was told, feeling uncharacteristically docile and compliant. She was reminded of her childhood; whenever she was sick, Chihiro would sit with her and play games or talk with her and wait on her hand and foot. She'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be cared for.

:–:–:–:

Her gentle temperament faded very quickly as she felt steadily sicker. Within another hour, she was vomiting again.

"I didn't think I had anything left inside me," she said when she was done.

"Here, eat some of these," Jet said, giving her a small stack of crackers.

"No," Smellerbee said. "I'm just going to get rid of them in another few hours."

"Drink something, then," Jet said, putting the recently refilled canteen in her hand. She drank some. "More," Jet said. "We can't let you get dehydrated." Smellerbee rolled her eyes and drank the whole thing. Longshot started to refill it while Jet took the bucket outside to rinse it out.

"When's the magic potion that's going to cure me going to be ready?" Smellerbee asked.

"Another half an hour. It's complicated," Jet said.

:–:–:–:

By the time it was done, Smellerbee was in the middle of another illness crescendo, waiting impatiently to puke, because that was the only time she actually felt better. Whatever Jet had made tasted awful, but she managed to get down an entire glass of it. It did seem to settle her stomach a little, and the nausea went away until moments before she actually puked. It wasn't a cure, exactly, but it made the illness more bearable.

The night progressed slowly. Smellerbee drank the potion, as she called it, after each puking session. But she was still growing more and more miserable. She was thoroughly exhausted but still couldn't fall asleep. She couldn't seem to find a comfortable position in her bed. She was too cold without the blankets and too hot with them. All she wanted was to be unconscious.

Jet and Longshot worked together, keeping her supplied with water and taking turns washing out her bucket. They reminded her to drink and tried as best as they could to get her to eat something. However, even they started to show signs of fatigue as the night progressed. Just after midnight, after one of Smellerbee's episodes, Jet finally lay down to sleep at Longshot's insistence. Longshot sat beside Smellerbee's bed as she lay there, staring at the ceiling.

"I just want this to be over," she murmured quietly. She was nearly crying, feeling more exhausted than she ever had before. Longshot ran his cool hand alongside her face. She reached up and held it in her own.

"Thank you," she said softly, turning to face him. Longshot nodded. He looked so sad, like he wished he could take her place.

Smellerbee felt nearly delirious and heard herself say softly, "You're so good, Longshot. You're so good. I don't know why. But you are." She squeezed his hand gently. "I'm so tired," she said, and her hand fell from his. "I just want to sleep," she murmured. "I just want to sleep." He nodded. I know.

:–:–:–:

Smellerbee had her final episode around two in the morning, and immediately afterwards, she felt inexplicably energized. She sat up in bed and spoke animatedly, though quietly. Longshot smiled at her, but she saw the dark circles around his eyes and told him he should go to sleep. He only did so when he was certain Smellerbee would do the same.

As she drifted to sleep Smellerbee thought that with all the poor choices she'd made in her life, she had, at least, picked the right friends.