Chapter 5 #2
Even Sparta, who was gradually worsening, said that.
For a few days, he had not gotten up but lay all day in the hut on our most comfortable mattress.
His skin glowed in the southern heat and I often fanned him for hours with a fan that Nathan had received from Mrs. Durand.
I gave him the amount of brew that Nathan taciturnly poured for me, plus as much moonshine as he wanted.
When he wasn’t sleeping, he told me about Coldville and his life.
About conifers so black and cold they seemed to be merely silhouettes of frosty shadows, about snowflakes as big as the palm of my hand, and a sky that was as smoky blue as my eyes in the morning.
I felt the longing for his home in the pictures he painted for me, the longing for his wife and son that he had left behind.
“A farewell forever,” he said in a shaky voice.
“They knew it.” He looked at me with glassy eyes that seemed eerie on his pale face.
Like will-o’-the-wisps in a pale mist. “The little one’s name is Samuel, Sammy…
he’s three years old, a good boy…looks like his daddy.
” He sounded proud. I had to turn away so he wouldn’t see my tear-filled eyes.
“He should have it…” A coughing fit interrupted him and he spat blood into the piece of cloth I handed him.
“Have it better. Get medicine. Learn the truth about why his daddy died.”
“He will,” I said as I looked at him, my heart in two. The life was draining out of his body every day, like a secured balloon with a leak, getting flaccid day by day. Sparta had lost too much weight, his arms and legs as thin as twigs that a gust of wind could break. It hurt to look at him.
Have you ever seen someone die, Willa Nevaeh Rae?
“Willa,” Sparta said quietly now.
“Stanton?”
“I need more brew. Can you give me more?”
I shook my head. “Nathan says you can’t have too much. He has…” Enough , I thought, but to Sparta, I said, “He has to get more before we can give you more.”
Sparta grinned and his emaciated, doomed face looked grotesque. “Liar. I know. I only have days left if that. Give me more.”
I glanced at the floorboard under which the secret stash lay, not knowing what to do. I didn’t know how expensive it was or if Nathan had any way of getting more.
“How about some more moonshine? And in three hours you’ll get more of the decoction.”
Sparta nodded. I knelt, lifted his head, and gave him a few sips of liquor, but some of it ran out of his mouth and down his chin. It took a while until he had drunk as much as he wanted. Then, I washed his face and shook out the sheet covering him.
“Shall I fan you again?” I asked, reaching for the fan even though my arms were still aching. It was oppressively hot with an army of mosquitoes circling us. A little air would do Sparta good.
He shook his head, though. “Will…that’s what Nathan calls you, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” I swallowed. The fact was that he hadn’t called me that in a long time because we hadn’t spoken to each other since he had locked me up.
“It wasn’t me. I swear on the lives of my family, Samuel and Grace.
I went to the bridge that night and secretly wanted to send off the SOS…
as we had discussed. I wanted the ring…so I…
I guess I’m a traitor after all. I thought the plan would fail and we’d be left empty-handed with no compensation…
your ring was better than nothing…I would have shared the money too…
with the people of Coldville…I didn’t want it only for myself…
” He looked so miserable and grief-stricken as if he was ashamed, but I understood.
I set the fan aside. “I believe you.”
“I didn’t throw you overboard. I couldn’t have done that even though I despised you back then.”
“I know.” I would probably never find out who it was, but maybe that was a good thing. Here on the island, on Lost Memories, I hadn’t forgotten the entire incident, but it had become like the whole world—a distant memory.
“He used the camphor ointment…but anyone could have stolen it from me.”
“That’s true.” I felt his forehead and was shocked by the intensity of the heat.
Maybe I should call Nathan. The men were working under the porch of the hut because they wanted to reinforce the supporting posts.
Perhaps Sparta needed more of the decoction after all.
I cursed myself and all of us for being stuck here in the swamps without specialists or medicine.
However, Sparta knew there was no medicine for him in the last days and weeks, at least not the medicine he needed.
But he wouldn’t have gotten it in Canada either.
I dabbed his ashen face with a cloth, but the cloth was much too warm. We had obtained a mini-fridge from Mrs. Durand in exchange for a gigantic piece of driftwood, but even when the cloth came out of the freezer, it didn’t stay cold long enough.
Sighing, I stood up and put the cloth back in the refrigerator.
When I turned around, Sparta was suddenly standing behind me, staring at me.
His eyes were glassy, the alcohol taking effect, and he was swaying slightly.
“I need more herbal brew. Now.” His body was shaking under the thin, white cloth shirt, his bare legs like sticks.
“I have to ask Nathan.” I was frightened but didn’t want him to know.
I carefully led him to the mattress and helped him lie down, but when I found Nathan outside, he vehemently refused when I asked him for more of the medicine.
“The brew is a gem, rare and expensive. We have to use it sparingly for Stan’s sake. ”
I passed it on to Sparta, who then looked at me more intensely than ever before.
“I have another idea,” he whispered.
“What is it?” I didn’t like his look.
“You…” A subtle grin lit up his features, and suddenly, he seemed very alive, much more alive than I would have imagined possible. “You could undress for me and then I could concentrate on something else.”
“Excuse me?”
He nodded. “You heard right.”
“You’re quite a rascal,” I said, but I didn’t mean it in a bad way. “That might suit you.”
“Please.” Now he looked at me seriously. “I…I love my Grace…but Grace isn’t here. And I’m dying anyway. You would distract a dying man from his pain.”
“By seeing me naked?” I asked, shocked.
“I’m merely a man.” Sparta grinned even wider, but then a coughing fit shook him so violently that I feared he would suffocate. After that he lay exhausted on his pillows, silent, but with pleading eyes. The red pustules glowed like fresh chickenpox on his face.
I shook my head, but I was unsure. He was going to die and he missed his family. He was lying here and he was losing everything. Probably my father’s fault. And there were thousands of women all over the world who did things like that but mostly for money.
But you’re not one of the thousands , a voice whispered in my head. And Dad would be oh-so-ashamed of you!
But Dad isn’t here! It’s up to you .
I looked at Sparta. Everything was different now.
I was different. I’d almost drowned. I’d been tied up and beaten.
Nathan had locked me in a shed and his brother wanted to kill me.
Taking off my clothes to please a dying man didn’t scare me as much as it would have months ago when it would have seemed absolutely unthinkable.
But I couldn’t do it. No man had ever seen me naked before, except Dad, and the only person I honestly wanted to take off my clothes in front of was Nathan.
Oh God! Just thinking about it made my cheeks burn.
“No…no, it’s not possible,” I heard myself stammer. I was certain I was as red as a beet.
Sparta looked disappointed. “Oh, come on, Willa!” he said with the pleading eyes of a little boy who really wanted a new car for his racetrack.
I quickly turned away. “No! Definitely not.”
“You could also change in a corner and I’ll just watch from a distance… How about that?”
I bit my lip. There was nothing wrong with it, but everything inside me was protesting. I didn’t want to undress in front of him. That wouldn’t be right. But what was right in this place or in this world? Nothing!
And Sparta would die. He only had a few days left and it would distract him a little from his misery.
But you are not to blame for his misery , preached the admonishing voice inside me. You don’t have to make it up to him. Or perhaps you do?
I turned back to him and felt guilty: because of Dad, and because one day, I could lead a normal life again, but he couldn’t. And I also felt guilty because I had wrongly suspected him.
“O-okay,” I said, embarrassed. “I…I’ll change. That…that’s what I was about to do anyway…” This way it didn’t have the cheap aftertaste of a striptease.
Sparta grinned, no, he was beaming from ear to ear. “But I’m going to go to the corner over there since my dress is there…” Strange, distracted, easy to control . Dad’s words came to mind, but a defiant part of me pushed them back. I’m not easy to control, I do what I want!
“Hey, that’s too far away,” I heard Sparta protest, but I still walked to the dresser in the middle area opposite the door.
There, I looked around and crossed my arms. “Here or not at all.” Sparta was at least ten paces away. Ten big man steps away. He wouldn’t see too many details.
“Okay,” he agreed, surrendering and looking at me encouragingly.
I hesitated. Relaxed my arms. Waited for nothing and everything.
He’s dying because of Dad! And even if Dad isn’t to blame, it’s his business! With hot cheeks, I stepped out of the short shorts before I could change my mind.
“Men’s underwear. Sexy,” Sparta commented as I glanced at him. He winked at me and laced his spindly fingers on top of the sheet in satisfaction.