We've seen the Jacksons in Heal the Broken, Choices, Family Locator (mentioned), Glad Rewards, Smoke 4, and Smoke 22
"Da'id."
She turned restlessly on the cushion, but her eyes never opened even as she murmured his name again, this time nearly unintelligibly.
"Shh. It's alright." His small hand brushed the hair from her forehead, the fever still raging beneath his fingers. She stilled at his touch, and he refreshed the wet cloth as she had taught him.
"Da'id, wher—"
"Shh," he said again. "I'm here, Mum. It's alright."
"Hm." She returned to sleep, and he curled his knees to his chest with a sigh.
Doris had caught it first, and the nasty flu had sent her to bed for three days. She had only calmed in the presence of her brother, and he had gotten it caring for her. They had not been sick for long, however. Doris had been running about by the fifth day, and he had risen from his own bed by the sixth. Neither of them had fallen badly sick.
Neither of them had ever sunk completely into fevered sleep like Mum and Father.
Another wave of grief crashed over him, and he valiantly fought the tears that blurred his vision. He had been by his father's side when the senior David stopped breathing, but even running for the neighbor had done nothing. The strange adult had merely felt Father's neck then sadly shook his head. They had left, uncaring that David now had a dead parent in the bedroom, a feverish parent on the settee, and a two-year-old running around.
"Id!" Doris charged through the room, beating on various things to break him out of his thoughts. "Id, Id, Id!" She reached for the tablecloth, and he lunged.
"No!"
She spun to look at him, wide eyes threatening tears. He scooped her into a hug to prevent that.
"Don't pull on the tablecloth, pest. You know Mum made that just for us."
Fear of punishment disappeared into a wish to get away, and she squirmed. He set her on her feet but kept his hands on her shoulders.
"Doris, look at me. Are you a big girl?"
She stopped wiggling, her red curls bouncing with the force of her nod.
"Big! I big!"
"Can my big girl be a helper?"
"Big girl help!"
"That's my girl. I need you to stay quiet and not pull on stuff, alright? Can you play with your doll for a while so Mum can sleep?" He pointed to the ragdoll she had tossed into a corner earlier, and her face lit up.
"Dolly!"
She bolted from his grip, scooping the doll off the floor as if it had been lost for days, and he reclaimed his chair as she amused herself in a corner. He picked up a nearby cup of water and shook his mum's shoulder.
"Mum, you should probably take a drink." She did not answer, and he shook her again, trying to rouse her to the half-conscious state that allowed her to swallow. "Mum, wake up."
She never moved, and he hung his head, gently setting the cup aside. Father had stopped responding there at the end, and the dread building in his chest made tangible what he feared was coming.
"Please don't leave us, Mum."
Thumping sounded behind him, and he glanced back to find his sister beating a rock on the floor. He returned his gaze to the settee, changing the cloth again. Another cloth wet her shirt and arms, trying to cool her fever, but he had no idea if it was working. They could not afford a doctor, and he could not leave her to fetch one, anyway. He would not leave Doris unsupervised.
"You need to come back, Mum," he said quietly—too quietly for Doris to hear. "You can't get better the way Father did. Please don't leave us alone."
Her breathing slowed slightly as he changed the cloth again. Her face was so dry!
"Please, Mum."
She drew one more slow breath, half exhaled, and went still.
"No. Mum, wake up."
He shook her as hard as he could, with no response. When another try produced the same result, he allowed the tears to flow. She was gone.
"Id sad?"
Doris trotted from her place against the wall, and small hands patted first his knee, then his stomach. He opened his eyes as Doris tried to crawl into his lap.
"Id sad," she said again on seeing his tears. She still could not say his full name, but right now even the last half hurt. Tears flowed harder as he helped her up to wrap her in a hug.
"It's just us now."
"Mum. Mummy." She turned, reaching for where their mum lay on the settee, and he gently caught her hand.
"She's in Heaven, Doris. She's with Father. It's just us, now."
She curled close to him, thinking about that. "We go?"
He slowly shook his head, glad she did not know what she was truly asking. "No, Doris. We can't go to them. We have to stay here. We'll stick together, Doris. I'll watch out for you."
"Brudder mine. I help."
He hugged her once more, then wiped his eyes and slowly put her down. He had been thinking about this for a couple of days, and as much as he hated it, they would have to leave. The landlord would send them to the factories if he found them.
"We can't stay here, Doris. Mr. Farley will come for the rent tomorrow, and I don't have anything to give him. Do you want to tell Mum bye?"
She innocently looked at where their mum—their mum's body, he corrected himself. She was not there—lay on the settee.
"Bye, Mummy. Lub you."
"I love you, Mum," he said after her. Copying what he had done with Father, he laid her hands on her chest, then used the blanket to cover her. She looked to be sleeping peacefully, and he wiped his eyes again and turned to where Doris watched.
"Are you ready to help? Can you be a big girl?"
Her eyes widened once more, and she nodded. "Big!"
"Can you find blankets? Look near your bed."
"Blankie!"
"Bring me blankets, Doris. They're on your bed."
She scampered off, and he went into the bedroom, studiously not looking at the shape on the shack's only true bed as he took their money from its hiding place. Mum had told him where it was before she got too sick, and while there might have been enough there for rent, he doubted they had enough for food as well. Food was more important than a roof with the weather warming.
He grabbed a couple of outfits for each of them, the blanket from his bedroll, and Doris' ragdoll from the corner. Doris dragged her three thick blankets into the kitchen.
"Now?
"We're making packs."
"Ack?"
"Yes. Packs for big girls."
The kitchen held one and a half loaves of bread, three potatoes, and two cups of cooked but cold rice, and he set the rice aside to heat in a minute. The bread and potatoes he divided by weight, and Doris' blanket pack held one potato, the half loaf, her clothes, the ragdoll, and the ball she insisted on including. One of Father's belts became the strap, and he coached her through how to wear it, then knelt in front of her.
"Is it too heavy?" She shook her head. "We will have to walk a lot," he warned.
She shook her head again. "I big!"
His smile refused to form, but he ruffled her curls as he stood. "Yes, you are. We're going to eat before we leave, so take it off for now."
The pack landed next to the door, and she looked up at him for the next task, tilting her head just like Mum always had. He blinked tears away.
"Remember the fire lumps outside?"
"Coal!"
"Yes, the coal. Father put it next to the door. Can you bring me some?"
He had left the door unlatched after teaching her this last week, and her small frame easily slipped out back. He stirred the half-dying embers as she reappeared with two small lumps of black coal.
"More?"
"Yes, Doris."
Father had been helping him learn to make a fire before Doris got sick, and he had gotten better with practice over the last couple of weeks. The embers sparked with air and the coal lumps, and by the time Doris had made five trips to the pile, he had a small fire just large enough to heat up his rice.
Doris moved to stand next to him, staring at the flickering flame.
"Doris?" She tore her gaze away to look at him. "What's the rule for fire?"
"No touch!"
"Good girl."
He had gone to the pump just that morning, and it took him barely a moment to dip some water out of the pail on the counter. Doris willingly fetched lumps from the coal pile—two at a time—until the water had warmed and the rice was ready to eat, and he poured the rice water into a large bowl and sat across from her on the floor, prepared to help. She had eaten rice alone the other day, but the water in this would make it harder.
She reached for her wooden spoon immediately, however.
"I big!"
"This is a little harder than yesterday, Doris."
"I big!"
A glimpse of his mum on the settee killed whatever smile might have formed. "Alright. You can feed yourself."
Palming her beginner's spoon, she carefully mimicked how Mum had taught her, and she successfully scooped several long grains and a bit of water. Some of the water spilled, but most of it made it to her mouth. He matched her bite for bite, making sure they split the rice evenly as he occasionally kept her from spilling it. They could not afford to waste even a grain.
He let her have most of the water when the rice was gone, quickly eating the few grains in the bottom that had escaped their spoons. The bowl went into the sink when they were done, as Mum had always insisted, but he kept her spoon.
"Brudder 'ack?"
"Yes, Doris. I'm making my pack, now."
She watched as he wrapped her spoon, the remaining food, his clothes, and the other three blankets into a small bundle, and Father's other belt made a strap to sling it over his shoulders. Testing the weight found it light enough, and he took it off to shove Mum's tablecloth on top. It was a piece of their parents, if nothing else.
"Where's your pack, Doris?"
She thought for a moment, then her face lit up, and she charged to where it still sat by the door. He helped her put it back on and took one last look at their home.
"Id?"
Another stab of grief shot through him. David was Father's name, and their parents were gone.
"Can you say 'Jackson,' Doris?"
"Ak-son."
"Close enough. Call me Jackson instead of David."
Her frown looked more like a pout, and he took her hand.
"It's alright. I'll help you remember. Let's go."
Her smaller hand firmly in his, he shut the door behind them and led her into the closest alley. They had a few hours to find somewhere to sleep tonight—preferably someplace Mr. Farley would never find them.
Does anyone else think that toddler Doris is absolutely adorable? No? Just me? Well, ok then (chuckle) Hope you enjoyed!
Thanks to Corynutz, Jean-Moddalle, MHC1987, and Guest for your recent reviews :)