AN: I'm back! Camp was great, if anyone cares, and I am soooo ready to get back to writing. So here's the next installment! R+R!
Oh, and I kinda lied…It ended up that Skittery isn't waking up in this chapter, but definitely the next one. I promise!
Annie had the door locked, and wasn't about to let me in, not even to talk things over. I told Joseph to not worry about things, just to go back to his chores. I went back out to the sitting room, pulling up a chair beside the sofa and beginning to read a book I'd been meaning to read to a long time but never had the guts to: Blake's diary.
I felt like a nosy, annoying father, reading his diary even though he wasn't there to get mad at me for it. I flipped through it, then took a deep breath and turned to the last entry.
Sometimes I wonder why I even bother. Straight A's, college acceptances, friends in high places, a supposedly perfect girlfriend…I just can't do enough for him. I think I'll have to have my Harvard degree before he actually admits he's proud of me. All these fancy gifts, they don't mean a thing, and he doesn't get it.
I stopped there. I couldn't go any further. All his emotions, his deepest thoughts, were layed out right there in black and white. He thought I wasn't proud of him. He actually thought I wasn't proud of him. Did I ever tell him? I had to have told him. No father can go through 17 years of his son's life without ever telling him that he was proud…could he?
I took a deep breath, reaching forward and laying my palm on Skittery's forehead. His fever was worse than it had been- he was sweating and yet also chilling, shivers running through his body. I swallowed hard, and then forced my eyes back to the faded pages of the journal.
Running away might help. Hell, if there's any message that's strong enough to reach him, that would be it. That or suicide, but that's a coward's way out. I love him, I really do, but I'm so restless. I'm ready to start my life, to do something drastic and actually have a life worth living.
I checked the train times earlier today. And that nine o'clock train to Chicago isn't leaving the station without me.
He was going to run away. I couldn't believe it. The book dropped to the floor as my hands began shaking uncontrollably.
"What's his name?"
I jumped in surprise, spinning around in the chair to face Annie. I picked up the book and nonchalantly set it on the table as I cleared my throat. "What?"
"Well, he does have a name, doesn't he?"
"Oh, yes. Of course. His name is Skittery."
"Skittery? You're kidding me, right?"
"No, that's what the other newsboys call him."
She walked slowly to the couch, sitting on the edge of it beside the boy. She then reached out, carefully feeling his forehead. "He has a fever."
"The doctor said he may run a fever the first few days. It may turn into…mild pneumonia." I saw her cringe, and quickly went on to say, "But nothing bad. He said the boy will live. But he won't fully recover for quite a time."
"How much time?"
I took another deep breath, ready for an even worse tongue lashing than before. "A couple of weeks. Maybe more, depending on how the fever runs."
She was silent for a moment, her eyes on Skittery's face the whole time. I waited nervously, watching her eyes change from confusion, to apprehension, to determination. She opened her mouth, and for a moment no words came out. When she did finally speak, I was stunned. "Well then, I must be stopping by Christine's to see if she'll come and help me clean him up. And I need to stop by some shops on the way back to pick up some soup and bandages- he's going to be absolutely famished when he wakes up. And when I get back, I'll watch him while you go find his lodging house and tell his friends where he is."
My mouth was hanging open in shock. "So, you're not-"
"Terrence, as you said, he needs our help. And I must be going if I expect to get to the shops before they close."
With that, she stood up and walked to the door, grabbing her coat and walking outside with her head held high, calling at Joseph to bring the carriage around. As the door closed behind her, I smiled. I knew she would understand.
