5: Fever

Andrew moaned softly and began to stir. Someone placed a cool cloth on his forehead, and Andrew slowly became aware that he was sweating but cushioned on all sides by incredible softness. Am I alive? he thought vaguely. He felt dizzy and strange, and he seemed to hear a faint buzz around him. What's going on? Where am I?

"It's lucky you were in your room, Berkowitz," said a man. His voice came from the left of the foot of the bed, and to Andrew it sounded strangely familiar. If only his head would clear...

"Is not problem," answered a thickly-accented, rich, deep voice. "I simply see boy climb by window and look out. He falls, and I catch him." He spoke as if it were an ordinary thing, as if he had simply plucked a pencil from the floor. Andrew heard his voice from almost directly above him, to his left.

Andrew was fully conscious now, but his body still felt like lead. He kept his eyes closed and listened more closely. Perhaps then he'd figure out where he was.

"If I had known," said a woman. Andrew guessed that she was next to the deep-voiced man, Berkowitz. And this time, he recognized the voice -- it belonged to Sarah Hawkins. She continued. "If I had known, I would have taken his gun at the door. But there are so many young soldiers these days, and he seemed to be so good with the children," she said mournfully. "I tried to trust him."

"Oh, Mom," said Jim. Andrew swallowed. "It's not like I was really hurt."

Immediately, Sarah pounced on him. Another woman joined, and together they tittered and scolded till there was a smack, and Jim cried, "Ow!" Berkowitz laughed, but Andrew tensed. He wanted to open his eyes, just to a squint, just for a glimpse. But he sensed that it wasn't the time to be caught awake.

The room was silent. Then, her voice came. "Oh, Jim," she said. Andrew heard a rustle of clothes and then a choked sob. "I -- I can't believe he's here! But why? What's -- What's he done to him? He looks so tired, Jim." Jim tried to hush her, but to no avail. "So young, but so tired...."

There were soft footfalls, and the door clicked open and then clicked closed. The sobbing was gone.

Andrwew found his eyes stinging, and he strained to keep them shut. Her voice hadn't changed. As soon as he'd heard it, her face flooded his memory: a dark-haired, perfect angel, with eyes as dark as the etherium, each with a single, twinkling star.... He was filled with a childlike longing to tumble out of bed and follow her, to slip his little hand into hers... Mama....

"I'll prepare another room for you, Mr. Berkowitz," said Sarah Hawkins. "Please accept the apologies of the Benbow Inn."

"Is not problem," answered Berkowitz. His tone, again, was easygoing. "Just let me repack things. I will find you in a moment."

Once again, the door clicked open and then clicked closed, and Berkowitz sighed. "She's gone." Andrew heard him move and open a cabinet on the other side of the room. "Is no use, Andrew. I knew you were awake from beginning."

Andrew's eyes flew open, and he could not help sitting up and rubbing his eyes. He groaned as his head throbbed, and he shielded his eyes from the light streaming in through the window. He blinked and searched the room frantically with his eyes.

"I believe Mrs. Hawkins took the gun," Berkowitz said promptly. He folded a shirt and laid in on his satchel, at the foot of the bed.

Andrew puzzled. Everything was fuzzy.... "Did -- Did I -- "

"Shoot anyone?" Berkowitz finished. Andrew took a good look at him. He was a tall, heavyset creature resembling some sort of oversize mole. He was completely bald and had thick, gray skin and a peach-colored face. He smiled, and Andrew raised an eyebrow. He felt too weak to attempt at any insult, much less attack.

Berkowitz nodded thoughtfully, pawing at a coat hung in the closet. "A funny thing, really...."

"What?" Andrew asked, peeling the wet cloth off his forehead.

Berkowitz shrugged and folded the coat as well. "Is just that," he said, "I could tell, looking up at you, that you are a excellent marksman. Had you not pulled to right, you would have killed Captain...."

"I pulled to the right?" Andrew asked. He wondered at this -- he never missed.

Berkowitz's lower lip went up in a sign of assent, and he blinked, inspecting his wardrobe. "Ah, yes," he answered softly. "You pulled to right as soon as you saw child."

Andrew started. Micha! Could he -- had he... He banched as he thought back to the late morning, when he listened to her chatter as she sat in his lap. He gave Berkowitz a questioning look.What happened to Micha?

"Bullet grazed child's arm, went to Captain's shoulder," he answered, on cue. Andrew shivered and sat on the edge of the bed, holding his head in his hands. Berkowitz went away from the satchel and back to the cabinet silently. "One must wonder," he said after a while, "why you tried to kill Captain in first place...."

Andrew rocked himself a little. He felt so dizzy; the moment he stood up, he wanted to tumble back into the downy comfort of the bed. But suddenly, he had to get away from this room, from this man. He had nowhere to go, and he had no idea what to do next. At the moment, he simply needed to find a place to rest, to make sense of things without the buzzing in his head.

He staggered to the doorway and steadied himself at the posts, putting a hand to his temples and rubbing his eyes. He felt so dazed, and so tired.... "Where are you going?" asked a surprised Berkowitz. "You must rest. You are in no condition to move around."

The man lumbered over to him, but Andrew cut him off before he could begin. "Tell Sarah Hawkins that you won't be changing rooms," he said dully. And he stepped out and into the hall, making sure the door clicked closed behind him.