Chapter 25
First of a thousand to write on the wall,
It's only beginning, it's swallowing us,
Somebody said it's unspeakable love
It's amazing-The Maze, Manchester Orchestra
"We should be rolling on into town soon," Wehde Sr. called loudly, turning his head a fraction of a inch to yell over one shoulder.
The sound of that gruff and unfamiliar voice shook Caleb out of a light doze he had fallen into and, for a moment, he didn't quite know where he was. The uneven back and forth of the wagon clued him in, however, and he scrubbed at his face vigorously in an attempt to come back to reality. Arbitrarily, his gaze lowered to take in the dark head resting against his upper thigh. He was taken aback by the mass of curls that were spread across his legs like a curtain until he remembered that it was he, in fact, who had put them there.
Lyric lay in much the same position he had left her in; on her on her belly, with one arm tucked beneath her whilst the other was curled snugly against his leg. Her long, tapered fingers were resting near her face, her palm softly cupping the curve of his thigh so as to create an illusion that the limb was made out of stone or that it had simply arisen from the material of his trousers. The poor girl had succumbed to exhaustion long before he had, nearly as soon as the wagon began its bumping, uneven journey, in fact.
She hadn't stirred when they bounced over the large rocks that seemed to jut out sporadically along the worn, dusty path nor when Wehde Sr. cracked his whip or yelled at the horse. Her breathing was deep and even, though, which Caleb found that heartening but he frowned at dark circles resting beneath her eyes. They were much too pronounced for his liking, resembling fresh bruises in what was otherwise unblemished, dusky face.
Lyric had been visibly altered since the events at the lake (to say nothing of the kiss that followed). It was as though both events, taken together, had sapped her energy. She had moved about listlessly ever since and he had been keeping an eye on her with no small amount of concern. Caleb didn't know why exactly her exhaustion should worry him so, it wasn't as if she hadn't earned the right to it. Neither of them had gotten any quality sleep the previous evening, he reminded himself, and that had been a slumber born of exhaustion and necessity more than anything else. It wasn't as though they could to get comfortable with the hard ground beneath them and only a log for a pillow.
The biggest issue on his mind was not their lack of sleep, however, but the kiss they had shared or, more specifically, what it had almost turned into. Caleb couldn't say he regretted it but he did feel conflicted about the whole thing. It had been a spontaneous decision and he certainly hadn't gone into it with the assumption that it was going to turn into something so...intimate. The event was burned into his memory like a fever dream. He could recall every last word and sensation. Not only had they been transported to some other time and place but they had somehow become other people! He had called her Alice and she had called him Uncas.. and the strangest part of all was how not bizzare all of it had felt while it was happening!
God, the sounds he had pulled from her still rang in his ears; the halting little pant, the way her back had arched, the widening of her legs...all of it was still there when he closed his eyes! What's more, it had been as though he had no control over himself once it started. Caleb was no virgin, he could count the amount of partners he'd had on one hand, but he had never been in a situation where all his self control flew out the window.
His previous encounters had been pleasing, he supposed, though they had been the typical romps of an untethered youth. At the very least they had been perfunctory but they had been nothing like what he had experienced with Lyric. The golden eyed girl had lit a fire in him that he didn't think it would be quenched easily. He had no doubt that, had they not been interrupted, he would have taken her right there on the forest floor.
Letting out a quiet exhale through his nose, Caleb laid a gentle hand atop Lyric's head and felt a flood of shame wash through him. He wasn't going to deny that he wanted her but he also wasn't willing to take her like some kind of pillaging neanderthal from a scary story. If Lyric was anything like the girls of the class she had been raised in, her virginity would have been guarded like it was something sacred. It was not a stretch to assume that her bedroom experiences were limited, if not nonexistent. If they found themselves in that position again, would he be able to rein himself in?
The sound of quiet humming cut through his self flagellating thoughts, Caleb lifted his head long enough to glance in the direction it was coming from. Clarina sat a few inches away, her back resting against the sturdy wall of the wagon. She had Gray's head resting in her lap, much the same way Lyric's was resting in his. He watched her smooth her hands down over the unconscious man's shaggy hair, a gesture that Caleb didn't think she was aware she was doing.
What had changed in the time between her finishing her procedure and her and Saul's return from procuring the wagon, Caleb wondered? What corner had the two of them turned that had been missed by everyone else? It was possible he was simply reading too much into the situation, that her stroking of Gray's hair was born out of nothing more than nursely concern, but Caleb doubted it. Was Clarina aware of the change? They certainly appeared much more intimate than two people ought who were supposed to be posing as cousins.
He found himself hoping the gesture was only meant to bring comfort and not because he felt that Clarina wasn't good enough for his friend, much the reverse, in fact...Gray was not good enough for her! He was in no frame of mind to take on anyone as a mate, let alone a woman who had suffered a significant trauma a scant eight hours beforehand. Hell, Gray had barely been in the frame of mind to marry Anna Marie and he had loved her more than his own life. If Caleb were honest, he's wasn't certain Gray would have married Anna if she hadn't come up pregnant. He had loved her, this was true, but that hadn't always been enough to keep his eye from wandering. The man courted chaos, always holding one foot in the fire while the other was running out the door.
Caleb would never forget finding Anna sitting on the steps of that Saloon, crying her eyes out because she was certain her life was over. She had been terrified of Gray's reaction, that he would leave, that she would end up as one of those sad females who placed their trust in the wrong man. It had been Caleb who had retrieved his friend's sloppy ass from that tavern floor, Caleb who had sobered him up, and Caleb who ultimately delivered the news that he was going to be a father. It had surprised both of them when Gray did the right thing.
He didn't have the mental energy to do something like that again. Maybe it was because he had his own future to think about but he would not be Gray's keeper a second time. He had picked up the pieces one time too many already; when Anna Marie died, when Gray joined the war effort... he couldn't follow him into something like this as well.
"I see the roof of the hospital!" Clarina suddenly called out, her voice going girlishly high with excitement and relief.
Caleb looked up as well to discover a dark shingled roof peeking up in the distance. His hand lowered from Lyric's head to her shoulder where he gave it a little jostle to try and rouse her. Other than a muffled 'mmf' noise made low in her throat, she didn't respond.
Soon, they were rattling their way from the dusty road onto cobbled, more even pavement, and the landscape morphed from Bayou to a bustling community of iron light posts and cheery storefronts. A few people glanced at the wagon as they passed, casting quizzical, sidelong looks at its occupants, but no one stepped forward to ask any questions. Before he knew it, they were clattering to a stop in front of a three story, rectangular building made of red bricks.
"Lahollo," he called quietly, jostling Lyric's shoulder a second time, " it's time to wake up now."
Her eyebrows lifted at the sound of his voice but she showed no other signs of waking.
"We need to figure out how we're going to get him inside." Clarina was murmuring quietly to Saul, probably forgetting that the older man was still pretending to be mute. For the briefest of moments, Caleb was afraid Saul would answer her and give them away but Wehde Sr. never gave him the chance.
"Feh," the Tobacco farmer scoffed, "Let the Injun carry him, that's what he's here for, isn't it?"
He turned to regard Caleb coolly, giving him one of those up and down appraisals one might give to livestock at a county fair.
"He looks strong enough fer it." The man commented dryly.
"Not on his own, surely." Clarina argued back, looking aghast at the very suggestion. "Caleb suffered a head injury recently, the strain of carrying a full grown man could very well cause irreparable damage."
"Fine, send the nigger girl for a gurney then." Mr. Wehde shrugged, as though it didn't much matter to him.
He turned cold, hawkish eyes down at Lyric, who still lay sleeping on the floor of the wagon. Without warning, the stocky man leaned over and sneered as he slapped her as hard as he could, right on the rump.
"Get up you lazy thing!" He barked disgustedly.
"Don't you touch her!" Caleb growled out in what was supposed to be Choctaw. What came out of his mouth was another language entirely, one he had never heard or used before. Lyric jerked awake with a gasp, looking around as though she didn't know where she was or how she had gotten there.
"I'll thank you to not manhandle my servants, Louis." Clarina said to him in a a clipped, angry tone of voice.
Caleb glared daggers at the older man, hiding the little shiver of fear he was feeling behind a wall of anger. No one else would know that he had just spoken in a language he didn't know or recognize. The shock of it was probably the only thing that was keeping him from killing Louis Wehde right then and there.
"Where..?" Lyric slurred, her voice weak with shock, pain, and interrupted sleep.
"The hospital, Lahollo." Caleb supplied quietly.
She blinked up at the building as though she had no idea what it was. Shaking her head as though to clear it, she turned that same confused gaze in her sister's direction.
"Would you be kind enough to have someone bring out a gurney, Lyric?" Clarina asked her, apologetically. If she aware of her sisters confused and slightly frightened state, she showed no sign of it. Lyric stared back at the other woman as though she didn't know her. Caleb, In turn, eyed Lyric, not at all comfortable with this new state of confusion.
"Are you alright?" He queried, leaning in to lay a hand on her arm when she made no move to do as Clarina was requesting. Lyric started at the sound of his voice, blinking rapidly, before turning to look at him.
"I..yes...quite.." she muttered in a distracted tone. She shook her head again before climbing awkwardly to her feet.
Caleb frowned as she made to hop over the side of the wagon. Her voice sounded off, as though it had become younger somehow, almost... girlish? Even her diction was altered, the responses more formal than he was accustomed to hearing from her. They sounded antiquated somehow. He had only a few seconds to ponder this change, however, before Lyric was collapsing right in front of him. She had managed to climb down out of the wagon and even made a few stumbling steps forward before she let out a pained cry. Grabbing the sides of her head, she doubled over and fell to her knees beside the horse.
"Lyric!" Caleb shouted, rushing to his feet and leaping swiftly over the side of the wagon. Mr. Wehde hopped down as well and it was he, unfortunately, who got there first. Lyric, still on her knees, looking dazed, did not acknowledge the Tobacco Farmer as he stomped his way torward her.
"You stupid, clumsy nigger," The old man was barking, "get back on your feet before I tan yer hide!"
He raised a hand to strike her but Caleb grabbed it before the blow could land.
"Touch her and I will feed you your own entrails." He threatened through tightly clenched teeth.
His tone was dark and dangerous, his voice dropping to a lower octave than he had never heard it. Lyric's head shot up at the sound and he could have sworn he heard her whisper 'Uncas?' before Clarina was jumping down off the wagon as well.
"What in God's name is going on here?" She demanded, stalking over to position herself between the two glowering men. She laid one hand on Wedhe Sr.'s arm and the other on Caleb's while the old man sputtered indignantly. His pale eyes were large and enraged in his bearded face and he looked ready to spit nails. Caleb all but dared him to touch either of them.
"This filthy Injun needs to learn his place!" The old man spat out pompously.
"And I will deal with him," Clarina informed him in a firm, warning, tone of voice.
The two men continued to glare at each other over her shoulder, almost chest to chest save for the willowy woman standing between them. It was with no small amount of effort that Clarina turned about until she was standing directly in front of Wehde Sr. She was sandwiched between them so her chestnut hair was close enough to tickle Caleb's nose. It smelled vaguely of lilacs and something else he couldn't identify. The new position put her nose to nose with Louis.
"Why don't you go inside and see if they can bring out a gurney, Louis?" She requested tightly, using his first name in order to regain his attention. "While I will deal with my servants."
Her voice was calm enough, reasonable. Only Caleb could detect the faint undercurrent of fury wavering beneath that practical exterior. Clarina might be playing the 'Mistress' right now but he could see that she was furious with the way the old man had been treating the both himself and her sister. If Louis Wehde couldn't sense that then he was a God damned fool!
"My uncle and I will get my cousin out of the wagon." She finished tersely.
Wehde Sr. sputtered for a few seconds more, clearly appalled at being asked to do what he considered servants work, but whatever he saw in Clarina's face must have been enough to convince him to leave well enough alone. With an angry chuffing sound, he tugged his arm free from her grip and stomped away to stride up the hospital's stone steps.
"Racist bastard." Clarina muttered under her breath when he was out of earshot.
"I'm sorry about that," Caleb said roughly, though he really wasn't. He had been completely prepared to follow through on his threat if that man so much as looked at his girl funny again. Kneeling down beside her, he peered worriedly into Lyric's wan face. She let out a pained sound when he placed a hand on her shoulder, idly pressing one hand to her head.
"I couldn't...I wasn't going to let him treat her that way." He told Clarina angrily.
"Don't apologize," Clarina muttered back furiously, "if you hadn't broken his teeth I would have."
"Can you stand?" Caleb asked Lyric, turning his full attention to her now. She blinked at him but managed a miniscule nod in reply. Taking her arm gently in one hand, Caleb helped guide her back to her feet but she wasn't up for very long before she gave another grimace and swayed unsteadily where she stood.
"Lyric, what is it?" Clarina queried, reaching out to steady the girl with a hand on her hip while Caleb wrapped one of his arms around her middle. Once she was stationary again, Clarina peered into her eyes with a worried frown.
"You've been out of sorts since we left the Bayou, are you ill?" She asked concernedly.
"It's my head," Lyric groaned, shading her eyes from the sun as though it hurt. "The light and all the noise...it's like that time I sampled too much Sherry at Christmas."
"Mmmm, that sounds like a migraine." Clarina murmured as she reached out to lift one of Lyrics eyelids. The girl flinched away from her with a pained hissing sound.
"How long has it been paining you?" she followed up.
"Since we left camp." Lyric answered, leaving out that it had actually started after the incident at the river and their kiss. She rubbed at her temples miserably with her fingers.
"Do you see any aura's, does it look like everything is covered in gauze?" Clarina queried next.
"A bit." Came the girl's pained response.
"That's a migraine, all right." Clarina confirmed as she straightened back up and placed her hands on her hips. "It's no wonder, with all this running around and Bayou nonsense."
She let out a sigh and pulled her cheek in as she thought.
"Well, we can hardly take her in the front door. They wouldn't treat her and the doctors would only laugh us out of the room." Again she paused and then an idea seemed to occur to her.
"Why don't you take her around to the kitchens," she suggested to Caleb, "one of the servants might know of a place she can rest until it passes. If worse comes to worse, I'm sure I can convince Dr. Phelps take a look at her later"
"Are these migraine things serious?" Caleb asked, having never heard of such a thing and worriedly eyeing Lyric who seemed hard pressed to stay upright.
"Not typically," Clarina answered, "Mama used to get them all the time but she was usually able to sleep them off in a few hours."
Caleb felt doubtful but didn't have any better ideas. It was easier to go with Clarina's 'migraine' theory than try to explain what had happened in the woods. He gave a brief nod before silently turning back to Lyric.
"Can you walk? He asked her doubtfully.
She nodded but he didn't think she actually heard a word that he said. Her eyes were so glassy and unfocused that he ended up making the decision for her. Sweeping the girl up into his arms, Caleb proceeded to carry her like a baby toward the red brick structure. She made a little surprised sound to suddenly find herself airborne but settled in against him readily enough.
Apparently, the exchange with Clarina had taken just long enough for Wehde Sr. to return with some help. Caleb passed him as he was coming down the stairs, followed closely behind by several sharply dressed nurses in white and blue uniforms. Two male attendants brought up the rear, carrying a gurney between them.
"Miss Clarina, are you alright?" A young, red haired woman was exclaiming as she raced down the steps.
"We heard there was an attack on Breeze Knolle!" Cried another.
"Such a tragedy! Your poor mother and husband!" A third nurse was adding.
News apparently traveled quickly in this town.
There were other such sentiments but they were lost to Caleb as he rounded the building and found himself immersed in a veritable sea of white. Bandages and linen were strung on clothing lines that had been set up at the back end of the hospital. When the sheets billowed upwards in the breeze, he caught sight of a group of dark skinned women who were hanging more linen up to dry a few feet back. One looked up curiously as he approached, regarding him with solemn eyes as she passed an arm across her sweaty brow.
"Can ah help ya?" she asked in a thick southern drawl.
"Uh, Ms. Harris said I should come back here." He explained, dropping Clarina's name in the hopes that it made his appearance more relevant, "This girl is uh...she needs a place to rest."
One dark brow went up.
"She injured?" The woman asked simply.
"Just tired." He supplied vaguely.
"Well, they ain't gonta help yew up front, dat's fo' sho'" The woman sighed as she reached down to haul up an empty clothing basket. She settled it against her hip and gestured to the left with her head.
"Better come in, den. We'll see wot we can do fer ya."
She made her way around them and sauntered through the miles and miles of billowing laundry as though it wasn't even there. Caleb followed silently behind her, turning Lyric sideways when they had to pass between wet sheets and bandages. Finally, they came to a set of wooden stairs and the dark skinned woman led him up them swiftly. Caleb was soon stepping into a small, cramped kitchen that was warm and smelled of roast chicken. It contained a table in one corner and the only other occupant was a young woman who was manning the fire.
"We got company, Marisol." The dark skinned woman announced as she walked past and disappeared into a shadowy alcove at the back. She didn't return which led Caleb to assume there must be another door back there.
"What's this then?" The new woman, Marisol, queried as she turned about. She looked to be in her late teens, with tightly curling brown hair and features that he could only describe as Spanish. Her eyes, when she settled them on him, were hazel. They shined brightly in the light from the fireplace and gave her face a kindly glow.
"I was told to bring her here, that there might be a bed?" Caleb explained lamely.
Marisol's eyebrows went up as she took in Lyric, who lay in his arms with her head nestled in the space between his neck an shoulder. He didn't think she had fallen unconscious per se, more likely she was just immersed in a kind of pained doze.
"Well, we don't have no beds at present," Marisol explained apologetically, "but you can set her at that table if you want...least till we can come up with somethin'"
The table in question was a small, simple thing, made of a sturdy tan wood that looked squished into its place in the corner. Seeing no other alternative and realizing he couldn't stand there holding her forever, Caleb carried Lyric over and gingerly lowered her into one of the rickety chairs. She went easily enough, resting her elbows on the table and cradling her head in her hands. Marisol made her way over to them, carrying a steaming cup of something in one hand and a small hunk of bread in the other.
"What's your name, Cariño?" The young woman queried, gently placing the cup in one of Lyric's hands and holding it there as though she sensed the girl needed the extra help.
"L-Lyric…" his golden eyed girl supplied weakly.
Caleb didn't know why, but he was suddenly very relieved that she had offered up her own name and not Alice's. Maybe it was because of the 'Uncas' he had heard her mumble back by the wagon or the fact that he himself had spoken in a language he didn't recognize but, whatever the reason, he was growing increasingly concerned that it had not been Lyric who had climbed out of that wagon.
"Well, you drink up all this remedio, Ms. Lyric, and we're gonna see what we can do about a bed." Marisol told her with a kind smile.
"Thank you." Caleb mouthed over the tired girls head when all Lyric could manage was a wan smile. Marisol smiled back and patted Lyric's hand before handing the bread over to Caleb and returning to her place by the fire. Once she was occupied once again, Caleb knelt down next to the chair and turned Lyric's face to his.
"I'm going to go see what's being done for Gray," he told her softly, "will you be alright on your own for a bit?"
"I think so.." she said back, sipping the tea and then furrowing her brow before she spoke again.
"How did I get here, Chula? The last thing I remember is falling asleep in the wagon and then I was on the ground by the horse? What happened in between, how did I get here?
"You collapsed by the wagon," he told her, alarmed that she had no memory of the last ten minutes, "Clarina said to bring you back here because you have a...migraine..I think was the word?"
"No no no no," she moaned, looking horrified that she had apparently lost so much time. "No, this can't be happening! I thought I gave her what she wanted..I-I don't understand.."
"Shhh, it's ok, we'll figure it out." He said soothingly, pulling her in against his shoulder in a tight hug.
He didn't have answers for her, not good ones anyway. Clearly, neither of them knew for certain what these other entities wanted of them. His had been rather reticent until very recently while hers had quite literally just tried to bust her way out of the girls skull, there was no clear rules for any of it and both of them were flying blind. He thought back to that moment in the woods, before the kiss, when Lyric revealed all her fears to him about what was happening.
What if all this has darker connotations, she had said, what if we're just chess pieces in someone else's game?
He hadn't thought about it in those terms until that moment but he couldn't deny that something sinister appeared to be playing out in the background. Unable to offer her anything more in the way of answers, he released her and pressed the hunk of bread into her free hand before kissing the top of her dark head. He took a moment to breathe her in, letting her scent flood his nose. It was something that reminded him a bit of apples, with an undercurrent of cinnamon mixed with other dark spices. He let himself enjoy it for a few more seconds before rising to his feet and heading for the alcove the dark skinned woman had disappeared into. He peered into that shadowy corner and discovered his initial assumption had been correct, there was indeed a small door at the end of it.
"Does this lead out to the main hospital?" He asked Marisol politely.
"It does," she confirmed, "but what could you possibly need out there?"
"My ...my uh.. employer... was just admitted." He stammered, correcting himself before he could say 'friend' or 'unit mate'. He doubted Marisol would care either way but he didn't want to arouse any more suspicious than was necessary.
"I just want to see that he's being taken care of. Can you keep an eye on her for me, just for a little while?" He gestured with his eyes in Lyric's direction, frowning at how she was numbly nibbling at that hunk of bread, as though the very act of eating was too much for her. Marisol nodded and he smiled at her in thanks before heading through that small door and out into a narrow hallway. The hallway, in turn, ended up dumping him out into the front entryway of the hospital.
Nurses clad in white and blue were hustling and bustling in every direction, paying him little mind as they carried soiled linens, carts of food, and what looked like surgical equipment from room to room. The hospital interior was laid out in a T shape, with a pair of opened double doors at either end. The doorway just ahead of him appeared to house the mostly recovered. He could make out various men in hospital johnnies playing cards and laughing with one another in the rows of iron beds.
Down the opposite side, the one closest to him, appeared to be where they housed the sick and dying. Coughs issues up from the open doorway to his right, with sickly moans following close behind. As he turned to look, a blonde haired nurse stepped forward, her features lined with resignation and exhaustion, to quietly pull the double doors closed. A large staircase stood at the helm, wherein nurses were coming and going in a constant flux of activity. If Caleb hadn't been so busy taking it all in, he might have seen Clarina sooner.
"Be reasonable now, Mrs Thibodeaux," a condescending male voice was arguing, "you've just been through a very traumatic experience. You should be resting, not assisting me in a time consuming, complicated surgery."
Caleb turned in circles, searching through the throng of moving bodies for the person that voice belonged to. Finally, he caught sight of a familiar chestnut colored head and discovered Clarina standing no more than a few feet away, conversing with to a portly man wearing horn rimmed spectacles. The latter appeared to be fighting to maintain his composure.
"I have never been more reasonable in my life, Dr. Phelps!" She back tightly. "And what's more, I know this case! That man's foot is rife with gangrene and I intend to see this through to the end!"
"You look as though you could fall over at any moment!" The doctor said back tersely, clearly struggling for patience in the face of her unrelenting stubbornness.
"And I repeat that I am fine!" She insisted firmly.
They regarded each other in tense silence as Caleb made his way through the sea of moving bodies. Clarina had a stubborn resolve shining in her green eyes and the doctor stared back with a barely contained agitation in his. She glanced over as Caleb finally made his way over and her eyes shifted from stubborness to concern.
"How is she?" She queried worriedly. "Were you able to find a bed?"
"They're looking after her in the kitchen for now," he told her, looking around as though he expected his friends to appear out of thin air, "What happened to the Wehdes and Saul? What's going to happen to Gra-I mean uh...Mr. Tucker?"
"Pardon me but...who are you?" The Doctor interrupted in a clipped tone, giving Caleb a hard look that he didn't much care for.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Dr. Phelps! This is Caleb Nahotabi," Clarina explained, looking embarrassed, "He's Mr. Tucker's um... man servant! He helped us bring him here today. Caleb, this is Dr. Phelps."
Caleb might have stuck his hand out for a shake but the doctor was looking at him as though he smelled bad. Hell, maybe he did! He had spent the better part of two days in a stinking swamp, after all.
"Indeed." Dr. Phelps muttered skeptically. He looked as though he didn't believe her story but wasn't willing to call her out on it either.
"The Wehdes already headed back to their farm, Caleb." She told him softly.
"Oh, what about The Rabbi then?" Caleb continued concernedly. He was aware that the Jewish banker could well enough look after himself, especially in a hospital, but it felt strange to be separated from him and Gray after so long in close quarters.
"By, The Rabbi, I assume you mean Mr. Hime?" The doctor translated crossly. "He is being tended to by Dr. Polk down the hall. Mr. Tucker is what I would call 'banged up'. He will need weeks of recovery and that is only if he survives the procedure first."
"Procedure?" Caleb repeated, not quite following.
"For his foot." Dr. Phelps clarified, looking at Caleb as though he were stupid. "Surely you didn't think he would be able to keep it?"
"So you do have to amputate it." Caleb translated dismally.
Gray was not going to take the loss of the limb well. Even if anyone else would see losing a foot as better than losing their life, he was not certain that Gray would feel the same. He had a thing about pity, it was not something he had ever taken well to. In his mind, he would now be a cripple. Someone to be mocked at the very least if not be cast aside altogether. Caleb didn't think he would be able to abide either scenario.
"We knew it was a possibility," Clarina said back softly, "and in terms of his surviving the surgery, I refuse to let him expire!"
With that she turned resolute eyes back in the doctors direction.
"I am going to be in that operating room, Dr. Phelps." She informed him flatly. "So, are you going to let me change into a uniform or am I going to be assisting you in this dressing gown?"
The doctor studied her face for a moment with his mouth pulled into a grim line. Clearly, he didn't like this plan but it was also clear that Clarina was not going to be deterred. If he wanted to keep her out of that operating room, he was going to have to drug her or lock her in a closet. As neither of those things was a viable option, the doctor was forced to relent, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
"Fine," he sighed resignedly before holding up a finger in front of her face. "But at the first sign of collapse I will send you from the room, are we clear?"
"We are!" she said back with a curt nod.
"Alright, go see if Emilia can set you up with a uniform." He told her before heading up the stairs and, presumably, to the surgery room. He looked eager to get away from both of them. Once the doctor was gone, Caleb reached out to lay a hand on Clarina's arm.
"What should I do?" he asked her, solemnly.
She looked at the hand on her arm as if it were a poisonous snake that was getting ready to bite her. Seeing her squirm, Caleb quickly removed it and mentally kicked himself for being so thoughtless. Of course she didn't want to be touched right now, especially by a man.
"For the moment, there's not much you can do," she said back uncomfortably, "just make sure my sister is settled and sit tight until this is finished."
"Thank you for doing this, really!" He told her gratefully, trying to take the awkwardness out his his faux pas and talking too much. "You don't owe us anything and you've already done more than we could rightfully expect."
His gratitude seemed to have taken her by surprise. Either he had overdone it in his nervousness or she simply wasn't accustomed to being thanked for anything.
"Just..um.. see to it that you treat my sister with respect and we'll call it even, hm." She stammered, managing a small smile for him before excusing herself to make her way toward the stairs. She hadn't gotten far before Caleb called out after her.
"I do love her, you know."
It was a strange thing to say, he knew that, but he suddenly felt like he needed to justify his feelings for her sister. Clarina paused in her upward ascent, her hand freezing on the railing as she processed his words.
"I wouldn't hurt her," he continued, "not for all the world."
"I...I would really like to believe that," she mumbled before letting out a sigh, "I just...I…" She couldn't seem to find the words for what she wanted to say. After a few seconds of stammering and trying to find them, she shook her head and hurried quickly up the stairs, her cheeks flushing red as she went.
Caleb starred after her for a minute before letting out a little sigh of his own. He knew Clarina had every right to question his intentions, hell he would have questioned them if he were in her place. He just wished he could prove to her that he had no plans to bed and abandon her sister. No, whatever this was, he was in it for the long haul, however long that turned out to be.
Seeing nothing else to do and not wanting to interrupt Saul's time with the doctor, he decided it was probably best to make his way back to Lyric. He retraced his steps to the narrow hallway and it's alcove, discovering a kitchen that was now empty now save for Lyric, who was resting with her head on the table. The bread she had been munching on when he left had rolled away from her open palm and was tilting back and forth just an inch or so away, forgotten. Caleb was making his way back over to her when Marisol suddenly appeared through the door he had just exited, peeking her head around the corner.
"We found a room near the back," she told him quietly, "Why don't you bring her and follow me?"
Caleb nodded his understanding before pulling Lyric back from the table and lifting her weightlessly into his arms. She let out a little sigh but didn't wake as he bore her weight toward the alcove door. He followed Marisol down the narrow corridor that led to the main thoroughfare but she made a sudden turn and suddenly they were stepping through a door he hadn't seen on his first pass. She led him down another narrow hallway until they were standing in front of a small room with a single, wrought iron bed and a nightstand that had a candle burned down nearly to a nub on top of it.
"This room belongs to one of the nurses but they won't be back until night time," Marisol said as she held the door for him. "You'll be on your own for tonight but this should do you for awhile."
"I understand, thank you." He said before he carried Lyric through the door and settled her on top of the thin quilt. He had intended to make sure she was comfortable and leave her to sleep but, right as he was preparing to do just that, she shot out a hand and grasped his wrist.
"How is he?" she asked, her voice shaky and tremulous sounding. Caleb didn't have to ask who she was talking about and he suddenly loved her that much more for asking after his friend when she, herself, was not doing that great. Smiling, he twisted his wrist until his hand was grasping hers and he settled on the edge of the bed.
"Going into surgery." He told her quietly. "How are you feeling?"
"Head still hurts," she said with a grimace, "I don't think it's a migraine like Clarina was suggesting."
Caleb had to agree, it came too close on the heels of what had happened between them in the woods. It was too.. convenient... for it to just be just a headache. Feeling guilty all over again he turned ashamed eyes to her weary ones.
"I'm sorry," He said, pulling his mouth into a hard line, "for what happened in the woods."
She blinked, regarding him with a curious, thoughtful expression.
"I do not know why you should be sorry," she said, "I'm as much at fault for what happened as you are."
"It shouldn't have…" he paused, frowning at his hand where it clasped hers, "it shouldn't have happened like that."
"How should it have happened then?" she asked, her voice warm and slightly teasing despite her obvious discomfort. She graced him with a small smile before continuing. "In a bed, by candle light with roses scattered about? You do not strike me as a dime novel savant, Chula?
Again an image of her heat filled face flashed through his mind. For the briefest of moments he was back against that tree, with her legs wrapped about his waist and the hard male part of him begging to be buried in her heat. He pushed the image firmly and swiftly away.
"What I mean is you deserve better…" he clarified, "better than what it would have turned into anyway."
Her free hand came out to land on his knee, startling him. When he looked down into her face, she was peering up at him with an open and honest expression.
"For what it's worth, I do not think I would have regretted it even if it had progressed to that." she told him seriously.
Looking at her lying there, with her beautiful face staring up at him and all that raw emotion in her eyes, Caleb had another overwhelming desire to kiss her. On the heels of that came the thought that what had happened in the Bayou was an inevitability. If he were honest, it was likely to happen again, especially if they found themselves alone. It was a thought that both excited and scared the hell out of him.
"Will you stay with me awhile?" She requested, tiredly. "At least until I fall asleep?"
"Are you sure? I mean, what if.." he started to argue but she shook her head and smiled at him.
"I think we will be able to control ourselves if all we do is lay here together." she said with a weak little laugh.
Caleb wasn't so sure but he wasn't willing to deny her anything at this point. Kissing her fingers, he returned her hand to her and climbed awkwardly into the narrow bed. It was barely wide enough for the both of them so they ended up with her curled half on top of his chest with her head resting against his shoulder.
"Comfortable?" He asked when she settled.
"Mmmm," she mumbled back tiredly.
He went quiet so she could rest, absentmindedly stroking one of her arms with his fingers whilst listening to the sound of her breathing. When he thought she had drifted off at last, he prepared to rearrange her so he could get up to go search for Saul, but he had only shifted a fraction of an inch before she suddenly spoke again.
"You said you loved me," she mumbled, "back in the Bayou."
"I did." he confirmed softly. "I do."
"I did not say it back." she whispered regretfully.
She hadn't but he hadn't held it against her. He knew the situation was bizarre and that declaring your love for someone you had only just met was even more so. The whole thing was frightening for her on a level he was not experiencing so he could afford to be patient while she navigated her emotions.
"It's alright." He said soothingly, rubbing her arm in a gentle up and down motion.
"It's not..." she mumbled tiredly, shaking her head, "I should have said it back…I should have.." then she gave a little sigh and finally drifted off.
Caleb smiled tenderly before kissing her and rearranging her on the bed. Nothing happened when his lips touched hers this time. There was no jolt, no sense of falling back in time. It was just a soft meeting of lips that she wasn't likely to remember.
Well, if that was all he was going to get, it was good enough for him, he decided. Standing back up once more, he stretched until his back popped and then headed off in search of something meaningful to do.
Authors Note:
Here we are at then next chapter...Finally!
I'm so sorry this took so long to get up, I ended up having a weird month. For starters, I was sick for 3 weeks in row. It was like one cold right after the other and then, no sooner would I start to feel better and then another cold would hit! This went on from the last week of September and only eased up sometime last week.
It followed a pattern too; I would start to feel like crap on a Friday and be sick until Monday or Tuesday. Then I would be ok again for about two days and Friday would roll around and I'd be sick AGAIN. The third time it happened I ended up being laid up for a an entire week and only opened this story long enough to edit the first 3 paragraphs. :P
The other weird thing was that it brought a depression with it. It basically left me wanting to do nothing other than binge watch shows on Netflix and Prime. I don't know if that was just from being sick for so long or what but it kinda sucked. I mean, I don't really need an excuse to binge watch something but I usually don't do it for a month. Eventually, I'll hit point where I have to do something constructive or risk losing my mind.
All that being said, we FINALLY got these dudes to the hospital! Gray will FINALLY get the help he needs (and unfortunately lose a foot in the process). I toyed with the idea of letting him keep the damaged limb and have it not function properly...but that didn't feel very realistic. I highly doubt any trained doctor during that time period would look at a black, gangrened limb and say 'Meh, it's all good, he can keep it' XD
Besides, it gives me an excuse to let him lay in bed for a while and have Clarina play nurse (Which I don't think he'll complain about too much lol)
We also got to see Uncas come through in this chapter! I always have a hard time deciding when and how he's going to make an appearance. I mean, he's pretty chill in general so I don't think he feels the need to burst his way out of Caleb's skull that often. There are levels to how much each person comes through, anyway.
Magua obviously comes through the strongest, having taken full control of Bran, but Alice only manages to makes her way out from time to time and that is only when her chain is yanked (Usually by, or because of, proximity to Uncas). Uncas has been more complicated in that department. Out of all of them, he's the only one who seems to have more or less settled into his host. I feel like he only acts separate from Caleb when 1)Alice/Lyric is threatened or 2) something specific manages to yank his chain (I.E. the first meeting and kiss). I'm going to get more into the whole chain yanking thing as we go forward but I have to decide how things are going to play out first.
There is going to be a rather big moment of it coming up soon and I need to decide how to navigate that. I think I mentioned this last chapter but I've been trying to decide how best to deal with the sex bits in this story. Originally, Caleb and Lyric weren't going to get up to much until towards the end because so much of the story was ' GO GO GO'. Now they have the time and opportunity for it but I don't see them rushing into it simply because of what happened in the woods. I feel like they would think they were sharing the experience with Uncas and Alice and both of them would feel really weird about that.
The PROBLEM, though, is that I can't keep their hands off each other so I'm left with deciding how to handle it. I mean, this is a history piece and I really don't think people during the Civil War were sticking their faces in each others junk but I'm going to have to give these two SOMETHING or they're going to stop talking to me and derail the narrative. XD
Anyway, ahem, moving on to music (and away from my woes with the characters sex lives)...I only have one piece of music for this chapter. It's called The Maze by Manchester Orchestra. I chose it because its a slow little song that I can imagine playing while Caleb is watching Lyric sleep in the wagon. I almost chose We Grow by Elmo but I think I'm going to save it for another chapter.
Fun fact; The Maze was almost Gray's theme for Clarina. If I'm honest though, I don't have a lot songs that make me thing of him. I mean, I like his character but I don't spend a lot of time in his head. I used to have a few songs on the playlist that were for him but i ended up removing them, same with for Saul. I try to make my playlists tell a story when and where I can and their songs just weren't doing it.
Ok, I think I've covered the bases for what I wanted to talk about this chapter. I noticed a lot of you were surprised in the previous chapter when Alice appeared in the river. To me, that was kinda funny because I've always known it was going to play out that way. Then I went back and read my earlier chapters and was like, 'Ok, yeah, I mean I kinda showed some bits that foreshadowed that but I didn't go super ham on it either'. So I can see where it would be surprising to everyone else. Up to this point, all we've had is Lyric's assumption (and the Voodoo woman's advice) that if she finds Caleb, everything will be fine. Finding Caleb is only one small part of the whole thing, folks...there's more going down than just Alice and Uncas achieving a closer proximity to one another...but more on that as we go forward!
Thanks again for the reads and reviews! Hopefully, I won't have another month of random sickness and depression to contend with and derail my progress. I've done okay for this week so here's hoping! Next chapter is another Clarina POV and it should be an interesting one. Again, thanks for reading and I will see you all next time!
Bye! *Waves*