"Inventing the Future"

"Chapter 22: Flu"

"Whoa!" Donny jumped at the sound of a loud crash from outside, then adjusted his hat nervously. "Somethin' just came down. Whatever it was, it was big."

"I bet it was one of the tree houses..." Pau whispered to him, but he underestimated Jaming's hearing.

Jaming knew it couldn't possibly be his tree house, because it sounded too far away for that. Which meant it was either one of the empty ones, or it was Meredith's. He could see by the look on her face that the same thought had crossed her mind, and he rested a hand on her shoulder.

She seemed to be taking it in stride, though. "As long as we're all safe in here, that's all I care about."

Sarah looked nervously at the metal shutters covering the windows, and asked, "Is it normal for the weather here to take such a dreadful turn?"

"Normal?" Cap, who was teaching card games to the children to amuse them, spoke over his shoulder as he dealt out a new game of 'Go Fish'. "Yes, and no. Storms happen, but this one's peculiar. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, then the next minute it's completely gray. We always get some sort of sign first, but this time there was none."

That storm was indeed a peculiar one. As quickly as it began, it ended a few hours after that. When Jaming peeked out of his garage door for a status report, the sun was out and shining brightly. "It seems to be over. I can see the metal houses in the distance. They seem to be intact. The shop boats as well. And...oh."

Meredith heard the note of dismay in his voice, and she wove her way through the crowd to see what he was seeing.

"One of the tree houses has fallen. One of the uninhabited ones. It could have easily been one of ours." he told her.

Sarah maneuvered around them to survey the damage herself, walking with a slight limp. "Next time, it might be. Tree houses are for children."

"They were what was here, Mother. Can we not do this now, please?"

"Do what?" Sarah looked innocently at her. "I only said that they were dangerous."

Before things could escalate, a boy and a girl appeared in their midst, causing everyone to give a start of surprise. The boy coughed a little and stuffed an empty Escape Powder pouch into his pocket, and the girl quickly concealed what seemed to be a small, oddly-shaped blue gem. Both gazed about in astonishment, and Max was the first to speak. "What happened here?"

"A storm," Jaming replied succinctly, walking off with Meredith as she headed for the shop boats to see if any of her merchandise had survived.

Monica looked thoughtful and wrapped her fingers around the water gem in her pocket. Had they caused the storm somehow?

'You could end up sick.'

Cap's words from the previous day passed mockingly through Jaming's pounding head as he forced himself to pick at his breakfast. His throat hurt so badly that he could hardly swallow water, much less solid food, and his body ached most annoyingly. As he sat at his work table, wracked with the chills, he grumbled, "Blasted old man...I hope a seagull dropping lands on his head."

Jaming had so much work to do. His services were in demand after the damage the storm left behind, and he had so many repairs to do that it almost made him cringe. This was simply no time for him to fall ill. The silver lining was, he wasn't nauseous.

Well, okay, maybe he was a little queasy, but no matter. He pushed away his breakfast, still largely untouched, and surveyed the pile of his neighbors' damaged possessions with a critical eye. It seemed that all of the projects he had lined up were right here already. At least he would not have to go out and spread this germ around.

He stifled a cough, picked up a box of screws, then paused as he felt a tickle in his nose. He quickly set the box down again and waited for the sneeze to come, but nothing happened. "Hm. False alarm."

As soon as he picked up the box again and began to cross the room with it, a loud sneeze exploded out of him, and screws went flying everywhere. "Damn it!" he swore, grabbing a broom.

The morning ticked by with excruciating slowness, and when Meredith stopped by with lunch he was shivering so badly that he couldn't even hold his screwdriver steady. She found him sitting with his head in his hands, taking slow, shallow breaths through his mouth. "Soup's on. Hey...are you all right?"

"Hm? Oh, I'm fine," Jaming lifted his head and got up to greet her, but as soon as he did his eyes lost focus and he leaned on the table for balance. "Whoa..."

Meredith put the bag containing their lunch down on his work bench and cocked her head as she got a good look at his face. "You're really pale. Why don't you sit back down?"

"Nonsense, I merely stood up too quickly."

"You don't sound good, either. Are you sick?"

Jaming tried to focus on her face, but now there seemed to be three of them, and he wished that his ears would quit ringing so that he could think of a good argument. Wait, what was he trying to argue about in the first place? And why wouldn't the floor stop rocking beneath him?

"Jaming?"

Her voice seemed to come from far away. Purple spots danced in front of his eyes before his vision went gray. The floor seemed to give a violent tilt, and he heard a voice call his name with a great deal of urgency as his vision went black. He felt himself being caught by someone, but he was too disoriented to know what took place immediately after that. His head hurt, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. There was nothing.

Meredith caught him just in time as he began to tilt forward, but she very nearly dropped him again. Jaming was a bit on the lean side, but he was heavier than he looked, especially since he was essentially dead weight and not assisting her at all! And, judging by the baking heat that radiated from his body, he had come down with something.

Unable to lift him, the only alternative Meredith had was to lower him to the floor and try to get him to come around again. He was breathing normally and he hadn't hit his head, so Meredith wasn't too worried. She had seen people faint a few times before, and she thought it might be due to his fever. "Jaming, can you hear me? Jaming, it's Meredith, can you hear me?"

It wasn't long before he opened his eyes, but it was clear that he hadn't quite come back yet. His eyes were wide and staring, completely unfocused and more than a little bit frightened, and at first he didn't move his head at all in response to her voice. She kept talking to him, keeping her voice level and calm despite her worry, and in due time he blinked a few times and oriented on her.

"Mer...Meredith...?" he rasped quietly.

"I'm here," She smiled, "Don't try to move yet."

"Wha...what happened? How'd I get on the floor?" He was beginning to shiver again, and he tried to suppress it.

She petted his forehead, and her hand came away sweaty. "You just fainted, that's all. You'll be okay in a minute. Just don't move, okay?"

"I don't faint." Jaming sounded indignant.

"Well, there's a first time for everything."

"Hmph...I'm going to try sitting up." He said stubbornly, moving to do just that, almost seeming to dare her to try and stop him.

She scooted back a tiny bit to give him room, and she was relieved when he didn't turn pale again. He did, however, wrap his arms around himself. "Would you listen to me if I asked you to rest today?"

Jaming wanted to stand his ground and act tough, but he just didn't have the energy for it. His muscles ached! And he was beginning to have trouble breathing out of one nostril. The left one, to be precise. Sighing in defeat, Jaming rubbed his face. "Maybe a short nap wouldn't hurt."