Afternoon, July 14th..
The heat from the shower he'd taken followed him like a sticky cloud. He ran his hands back through his hair, gripped the back of his damp neck. Just the walk from the bathroom to the kitchen made him thirsty. When he got there, he opened the fridge, leaning down to inspect it.
May had to have brought a few bottles of water here. She always had them..even when she thought he hadn't seen her take any from the inn. But even as he thought that, he wondered how much help that would be. No matter how much he drank, it didn't seem to do much.
But that wasn't a problem now. Because the fridge was pitifully empty.
Except for a single bottle of green liquid that had squiggly white writing painted on the outside. The only thing he could read was the fine print that said 'Keep cool.'
It looked like soda, but didn't fizz. Juice, maybe. He grabbed it, twisting the cap off of the bottle as he let himself out of the building. He'd had half of it drank by the time he locked the front door.
It wasn't the best soda he'd ever had but it had done the trick well enough. He dropped the empty off in one of the several trash cans he always passed on his way to the church.
******
He stumbled into something squishy and Erica's yell echoed all the way up to the ceiling of the laundry greenhouse at the back of the church. She tried her best to help keep the overflowing basket from tipping out of his arms. She succeeded..but half the laundry topped down on top of her anyway, hiding her in a wad of floral scented cotton.
"That's the third time today, Toby, are you sure you're feeling okay?" the mountain of sheets and towels in from of him asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine." He said it on impulse but the more times he had to repeat himself, the less convinced he was becoming. He was sure that the two nuns in the laundry house with him didn't believe him either.
"Erica is right. Normally, you only drop things and stumble when you're startled," Nina said.
"Are you sick, Toby? You've been around Sera and Liam a lot. Maybe you caught what they have." Erica flapped her arms and legs until she had freed herself from every last bit of laundry. It laid around spread around her like the dead petals of the flower she had just burst from.
"But I don't get sick."
"But you don't look so good either! What do you think, Nina?"
Nina straightened her glasses. "More vacant than usual," she said, stepping toward him. She laid the back of her hand against his forehead, waited, then frowned. "But you do not feel feverish."
"Maybe you should lay down anyway." Erica sprung to her feet, continuing on before he could even get his mouth open. "If you nip it in the bud now, you can avoid being real sick later." She sprung up and pushed both of her hands hard into his chest. He stumbled away dumbfounded. "We've got everything covered here, Toby!"
"We will get twice as much done without you dropping everything."
"Just go back to your room and get some rest. I doubt you've even had any lately!"
"We will check on you later."
He hadn't noticed it, but they had been walking toward him and he had been backing away. He suddenly felt the stone floor of the church's open corridor instead of grass beneath his bare feet and didn't know how it happened.
"Drink some orange juice and eat an apple. Grandma always said a doctor a day keeps the doctor away!"
They turned together and marched back to the fallen laundry basket, leaving him standing in the hallway, his eyes wide.
Maybe they're right.. he thought, finding himself reaching for something to lean against. He knew he wasn't sick, and he didn't feel tired.
But he didn't feel right either.
He shook his head, rubbing at one half of his face with his hand.
A little rest wouldn't hurt. He wasn't doing anything else right now anyway.
The heat from the shower he'd taken followed him like a sticky cloud. He ran his hands back through his hair, gripped the back of his damp neck. Just the walk from the bathroom to the kitchen made him thirsty. When he got there, he opened the fridge, leaning down to inspect it.
May had to have brought a few bottles of water here. She always had them..even when she thought he hadn't seen her take any from the inn. But even as he thought that, he wondered how much help that would be. No matter how much he drank, it didn't seem to do much.
But that wasn't a problem now. Because the fridge was pitifully empty.
Except for a single bottle of green liquid that had squiggly white writing painted on the outside. The only thing he could read was the fine print that said 'Keep cool.'
It looked like soda, but didn't fizz. Juice, maybe. He grabbed it, twisting the cap off of the bottle as he let himself out of the building. He'd had half of it drank by the time he locked the front door.
It wasn't the best soda he'd ever had but it had done the trick well enough. He dropped the empty off in one of the several trash cans he always passed on his way to the church.
******
He stumbled into something squishy and Erica's yell echoed all the way up to the ceiling of the laundry greenhouse at the back of the church. She tried her best to help keep the overflowing basket from tipping out of his arms. She succeeded..but half the laundry topped down on top of her anyway, hiding her in a wad of floral scented cotton.
"That's the third time today, Toby, are you sure you're feeling okay?" the mountain of sheets and towels in from of him asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine." He said it on impulse but the more times he had to repeat himself, the less convinced he was becoming. He was sure that the two nuns in the laundry house with him didn't believe him either.
"Erica is right. Normally, you only drop things and stumble when you're startled," Nina said.
"Are you sick, Toby? You've been around Sera and Liam a lot. Maybe you caught what they have." Erica flapped her arms and legs until she had freed herself from every last bit of laundry. It laid around spread around her like the dead petals of the flower she had just burst from.
"But I don't get sick."
"But you don't look so good either! What do you think, Nina?"
Nina straightened her glasses. "More vacant than usual," she said, stepping toward him. She laid the back of her hand against his forehead, waited, then frowned. "But you do not feel feverish."
"Maybe you should lay down anyway." Erica sprung to her feet, continuing on before he could even get his mouth open. "If you nip it in the bud now, you can avoid being real sick later." She sprung up and pushed both of her hands hard into his chest. He stumbled away dumbfounded. "We've got everything covered here, Toby!"
"We will get twice as much done without you dropping everything."
"Just go back to your room and get some rest. I doubt you've even had any lately!"
"We will check on you later."
He hadn't noticed it, but they had been walking toward him and he had been backing away. He suddenly felt the stone floor of the church's open corridor instead of grass beneath his bare feet and didn't know how it happened.
"Drink some orange juice and eat an apple. Grandma always said a doctor a day keeps the doctor away!"
They turned together and marched back to the fallen laundry basket, leaving him standing in the hallway, his eyes wide.
Maybe they're right.. he thought, finding himself reaching for something to lean against. He knew he wasn't sick, and he didn't feel tired.
But he didn't feel right either.
He shook his head, rubbing at one half of his face with his hand.
A little rest wouldn't hurt. He wasn't doing anything else right now anyway.