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Lip Balm

…

Arnie, after being drenched to the very skin of his bones, had developed a cough. A slight cough that immediately resulted to throaty sneezes, a running nose, burning fevers and swarming headaches. And as Gilbert watched a sweat soaked Arnie tossing underneath quilted blankets, he felt sick. As if someone had carved a neat circle from the pit of his stomach and replaced it with knotting ropes of guilt and shame. I've done this to him.

Gilbert sat at the foot of the couch and let stringy tendrils of hair slither down the bridge of his nose, head aching and temples throbbing from clouding, brooding thoughts. Eyes closed, he listened to the echoing voices of Amy and Chad from the dimly lit hallway.

"He shouldn't have gone out by himself," Chad whispered harshly. "He should have been keeping watch."

"It wasn't Arnie or Gilbert's fault," Amy said anxiously. Gilbert could see her in his mind, wringing on her apron until her knuckles turned white. Was that doubt in her voice?

"All that boy needed was a good belting as a child," Chad snorted. "Now look at him. Climbing water towers and getting himself sick to the death."

Gilbert's ears perked up at the harsh accusations. Amy interrupted, "Chad, It's a mental disease." He sighed and let his head loll over his shoulder. How he was tired of the monotonous conversations!

Chad was apparently unmoved. "That stupid idiot of a boy would not have been such--"

"Do not speak of Arnie that way," Amy's vehemently whispered.

"I'm not," There was an unusual mirth in his voice. "I was talking about Gilbert." A pause. "He still acts like a child, Amy. Why should a child be in charge of a child, hm?"

Gilbert felt a sickening bubble in his stomach, and before he could retain any form of anger, he leapt to his feet and skidded his way into the dimly lit bedroom of Chad and Amy. Their heads turned, a look of astonish on their faces as Gilbert thrust a balled fist into Chad's blocky jaw before a single word was uttered.

Chad rubbed a calloused palm over his chin and laughed bitterly. "Eavesdropping. A horrible childish habit." Gilbert lowered his quivering arm and stepped away from the brawny man, nerves ticking away to the ends of his fingertips. The dragging silence was unbearable.

The looming bear of a man was colossal compared to the shorter, thinner one. Gilbert was sure that Chad could knock him out with one sweep of the arm, and he swallowed despite of himself, Adam's apple bobbing.

"Get out," Amy said in a low grumble. Gilbert and Chad both swiveled their heads to her direction. Chad smirked and pointed his finger to the doorway, motioning Gilbert to exit.

"I mean you, Chad," She said, and lowered her eyes to the mud green carpet. Gilbert's eyes widened as he watched the disbelieving man stare at the woman in doubt, his slacked jaw hanging with thread thin lips. Leering, Chad's mouth clamped shut with a loud click of his teeth, and begrudgingly he left the room. Another unearthly silence echoed throughout the house, interrupted by the shut of Chad's beat up truck door, the rumble of the engine and then the squeal of the tires. And he was gone.

"I.." Gilbert managed to squeeze out before shutting his jaws together also and leaving the room without a second thought.

…

The doctor was an old man with thinning hair and dull blue eyes. He carried with him a black case of medical supplies and rarely smiled, as if hovering around in his own cloud of misery. And despite of the shining weather and crisp air, the frown on his face only deepened when he saw Arnie balled into a quilted blanket, sweating and teeth chattering. An hour passed before he left the room.

Gilbert was the first to know.

"It won't be long before he passes away, son," The doctor said, face expressionless. Gilbert was lost for words, electricity jolting through his body. Instead, he swallowed his disbelieving thoughts. "Keep him warm, make him drink fluids. But I'm almost positive that it will be inevitable" When Gilbert said nothing, the doctor placed a cold hand on his shoulder.

"Death is regrettable," He said with a slight shake of his hand. "But he has lived ten years longer than anyone would have ever imagined." And he was gone as quickly as he had come.

Gilbert stared at where the doctor had been only seconds before, and then shifted his gaze to the pale and sickly Arnie in the pied quilt. It was me. He whispered softly. I've done this to him. If only I had watched over him better, maybe..

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft hand on his sweaty palm. Gilbert looked down at the dark haired Becky, and before he could say a word she wrapped her arms around his waist and let him do one thing that no one else had ever allowed. He cried on her shoulder.

"What do you want," Becky's voice was shaky and muffled. There was a deathly white silence before Gilbert, in an equally shaky voice, answered.

"I want him to live."

Becky hugged him tighter still in the eerily glowing room, before whispering, "It's not your fault, Gilbert."

And there was no response.

…

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