Internet Kill Switch (23 page)

“You brought Tony here at right time. Another day and I think he die.”

“Thank you so much for helping him,” Scarlett said.

“What were those herbs and things you gave him, and what was on that pad?” Rick asked.

“Drink was to slow fever and stop infection,” she said. “Pad had balms and salves to numb leg before I stitch. Give Tony some relief.”

“Well, I’m so glad you were here to help,” Scarlett said. “It seems like we came to the right place.”

The woman looked at both of them. “You did. It no accident you here.” Her
deep, penetrating eyes looked calm and assured. It was hard not to believe her, whether she was right or not.

“We’re heading east, to Maryland,” Rick said. “We have some really important business there.”

“Not right away,” the woman said. “Tony need time to heal. I think he need at least a week, until he out of danger.” She looked at Rick, who was surprised.

“A week? We need to get there A
-S-A-P!”
“Don’t know what A-S-A-P mean,” the woman said, “But Tony not well enough to travel. He still very sick. Leg need to get better. Have to watch infection and fever.”

“Of course, we’ll stay as long as we need to,” Scarlett said
, with a look at Rick. “We’re so, so grateful that you’re helping us.”

“My name Sani Manygoats,” the woman said. “My husband and I live here long time. He die last year. Now just me here. Welcome to my house.”

55

Rick slept on the sofa that night, and Scarlett slept in Sani’s bed. Sani slept in her chair, next to Tony. She said she wanted to be nearby, in case anything happened; it was the most critical time. Besides, Sani could sleep almost anywhere, they found.

The night passed without incident,
Sani told them the next morning. Tony moaned in his sleep and woke up several times, but didn’t appear to deteriorate further.

Sani moved even more slowly than usual the next morning; Scarlett thought it was because she was up often during the night, checking on Tony. Since
she was too tired to move about much, Rick volunteered to make breakfast. Sani said he could get what he needed from the back yard.

Going
out back, Rick was surprised to see a tiny farm. The dimensions of the front yard led him to believe the back yard would be small, too, but it was much bigger than that; two or three acres, he judged. It contained a chicken coop and four or five chickens he could see, along with a rooster; a large vegetable patch with lettuce, carrots, beets, green onions, spinach and zucchini; and an actual cow, fenced off and chewing grass in a field. Stacked up near the house was a large pile of firewood.

He grabbed 10 eggs
from the coop, put them in a basket he got from the kitchen, and went back inside. He got a fire going in the stove, put a cast-iron skillet on it, and scrambled up the eggs, adding some of the onions and spinach.

When he was done, Scarlett and Sani joined him. It was the first hot breakfast -- the first hot meal -- any of them had had since the
power had gone out, five days ago. Rick and Scarlett dug in with gusto; Sani ate slowly, taking small bites. The food seemed to revive her, as her face brightened and she became more talkative.

“I never knew food could taste this good,” Rick said as he gulped down his eggs.

“How do you manage to take care of that farm?” Scarlett asked between mouthfuls.

“I pay man to do it for me since
Harold die,” Sani said. “I cannot do myself. But haven’t seen man since all this happen,” she said. “Don’t know what happen to him.”

Rick was impressed. “So you pretty much don’t need power for anything, do you?”

“No, not really. Nice to have for plumbing and lights at night, but not too hard to live without. I do without it most of life, anyway.”

“You have?”

Their amazement amused Sani. “Yes. Live on Cherokee land until 1980, when I marry and move here with Harold. For much of that time, I have no electric. I survive OK,” she said, a deadpan look on her face.

Rick laughed. Sani may be old, but she wasn’t senile.

“Same with computer, Internet. Never have it, so never miss it.”

“I do miss it,” Scarlett said.

“Sure,” Sani said, no reproach in her voice. “Young people grow up with it, same way I grow up with buffalo and deer and tents. I miss it when buffalo leave or were all killed by white men.”

She gave Scarlett one of her penetrating looks. “But I get over it, and live to be ripe old age. You will, too.”

Her words comforted Scarlett. Sani seemed so wise, so content. Nothing appeared to faze her, even a young man brought into her house, near death. When Sani talked, Scarlett naturally believed what she said.

“So, you really think Tony’s going to be alright?” she asked
, needing reassurance.

Sani scooped up her last forkful of eggs. “Yes, if fever break soon. That key. If it break, he recover, I think.”

The hot meal lifted their spirits, and they went in together to see Tony. What they saw brought them back down again, reminding them of where they were and the peril they faced.

Tony twist
ed in bed, his forehead dripping sweat. His eyes, now open, were red-ringed and bulging. When he spoke, he made no sense.

“I know you don’t want to... But I’m, I’m here now... No, I can’t get there from here, I need more rope... More rope... If dad finds out, he’ll kill me...”

Sani pushed her chair a little closer to Tony’s bed and shooed out Scarlett and Rick. “You not need to hear this. He be OK. You go now.”

They left the room, anxiety gripping their hearts.

56

Tony held onto Max as he lay on Sani’s bed. Sani looked over the phone, but seemed unimpressed by Max’s capabilities, except one: its ability to take temperatures and read vital signs could be useful, so she didn’t mind Tony holding the phone. Max had also downloaded many of Tony’s favorite songs prior to the Internet going down, and played them softly as his fever and infection raged, hoping to provide some relief for his suffering.

Sani was by his bed that afternoon and had fallen asleep, as she frequently did. Scarlett and Rick were in the garden, gathering vegetables and trying
not to imagine what would happen if Tony died.

Tony woke up, feeling different than he had in some time. He grabbed Max, as the phone
had slipped out of his hand while he slept.

“Check me out, Max,” he said.

Max took a minute, then said softly, “Sani, wake up.” She opened her eyes slowly and looked at Tony. Max spoke, his tone bright. “Tony’s temperature is 98.7. Normal. Breathing normal. Blood pressure 110 over 60. I think he’s out of danger.”

Sani got out of the chair and looked Tony over
thoroughly. The sweat had dried, and his forehead felt cool to the touch. His eyes were clear. She checked the wound under his bandage. The stitches looked good, and the redness and tenderness had faded some. She smiled and held his hand as she spoke.

“Welcome back, Tony.”

For the first time in three days, Tony managed a grin. “Good to be back, Sani.” Then he closed his eyes and slept.

5
7

Scarlett watched Tony as he slept, her heart glad. Sani said he might sleep for a long time, as his body responded to the need to heal.

The old woman
spent as much time by Tony as Scarlett did. She fell asleep a lot, but she was there. When awake, Sani would sometimes hum pretty little tunes Scarlett didn’t recognize. Other times she would wave her hands about; up, down, in figure-8 patterns, or randomly. It was almost as if she were conducting a symphony she heard in her head. She didn’t explain why, and Scarlett didn’t ask.

Sani gave Tony and Scarlett long gazes,
with no embarrassment. Normally people didn’t stare at each other, but it was no problem for Sani. Often when she did this, Scarlett got the feeling Sani was inspecting her, looking through rooms in her mind, sifting through old junk and shiny new toys. Scarlett would look away after a minute; but when her eyes returned to Sani, the woman would still be placidly staring at her, taking all of her in.

Although she felt uncomfortable at first,
Scarlett got used to it, and soon didn’t mind at all. This woman had become very important to Scarlett in just a few days’ time. She firmly believed Sani had saved Tony’s life. And through everything -- using her house, eating her food, treating Tony -- she hadn’t asked for anything in return. Scarlett was more than content to be stared at by such a woman.

Mid-afternoon, after Tony had been asleep a few hours, Scarlett
asked Sani if she thought he would make a full recovery, and especially his leg.

Sani looked at Tony, still sleeping soundly. “Yes, few more days, he
be good as new, I think. In week, he can travel again.”

“Even the kind of traveling we’ll have to do, on a bike?”

“Yes, or other ways that may be found,” she said, somewhat mysteriously. Then she got up and checked the wound under Tony’s bandage. “Look good,” she said. “Healing well. Redness going away.” She sat back in her chair, lowing herself down carefully.

“It’s a miracle we found you here,” Scarlett said.

Sani tilted her head just a bit as she looked at Scarlett. “Interesting word to use, ‘miracle’. Also correct.” Sani rolled her hands over each other, as if she was winding a spool of yarn.

She continued to stare at Scarlett
as her hands worked. “You very, very pretty girl.” Scarlett blushed.

She went silent for a few minutes, then spoke again. “You love Tony.”

Scarlett wasn’t surprised by this insight. She thought Sani would know everything about anyone she’d looked at for an hour.

“You’re right, Sani. And I don’t
even know that much about him.”

“
But you know enough, yes?”

Scarlett thought about it. Did she know enough? She knew that Tony protected her, that he thought about her needs and wants, that he
was a good, decent, caring man. “Yes, I think so.”

Sani stopped
talking for awhile, then tilted her head a bit to the other side. “Tony love you, too,” she said.

Scarlett felt a great rush in her head, a happiness that overtook her like a strong
gust of wind. “You... really think so?”

Sani nodded slightly. “Sani know when people in love. When you live long time, you know.”

Scarlett wanted to spring up and kiss Sani. Instead, she closed her eyes and imagined her and Tony hand-in-hand, then herself in a wedding dress, walking down the aisle with Tony waiting at the other end.

She looked at Tony again, smiling at his peaceful expression as he slept. Then,
in the mysterious way that minds at rest have of bouncing around from thought to thought like bumper cars, she thought about how close she came to losing him, then about how she did lose Abby, then about how Abby would never have a wedding. What would Abby’s wedding have been like? What sort of man would she have married? Would he have been as nice as Tony?

“Scarlett.”

The word broke Scarlett out of her thoughts. She looked at Sani, who stared at her.

“Why unhappy?”
she asked.

Scarlett had no intention of telling Sani about Abby, but suddenly felt it would be all right, that Sani would understand, if anyone would.

“It’s this... girl, Sani. I met her in the woods a few days ago. She was telling me how much she missed her friends. Her friends on the Internet, I mean.” Scarlett wasn’t even sure Sani would know what the Internet was.

Sani looked out the small window in the room as Scarlett talked. “Yes.” That was it, so Scarlett continued.

“Well, this girl... Abby was her name. She was so sad at not being connected to these friends that she... she... killed herself. I tried to stop her before she jumped...” Sani closed her eyes. “And I could have helped her. I could have jumped in the river to save her, but I didn’t. So it’s my fault she’s dead, Sani. My fault.”

Sani didn’t speak.

“I’m a coward, and I don’t deserve Tony,” she blurted out, sharing a feeling she first had after failing to save Abby, and had grown in the shadows of her soul since. She cried softly.

Sani continued to sit
, eyes closed, for another minute. Scarlett, so happy before, now felt miserable.

Sani got out of her chair and shuffled to Scarlett. She put her hand on Scarlett’s head and gently massaged her scalp
with a small hand. It felt wonderful.

S
he spoke in a gentle whisper. “You not coward, my child. You listen to old Sani. I live long time; born before country was old. I see your heart, and it strong, it loving, it pure. Guilt not always bad; it tell us when we do wrong. But sometimes it fool us, make us think we do something wrong when we don’t. That happen with you.”

Scarlett put her hand on Sani’s free one, which rested on her shoulder. “
But it
is
my fault. I should’ve done something, and she’d still be alive.”

Sani squeezed Scarlett’s
soft hand with her frail one. “No, listen to Sani. Not your fault. When we carry sadness for others, it can overwhelm us. We all have enough sadness for ourselves, without adding others’ to ours. It OK to mourn Abby. Not OK to carry guilt for her. Will make you hunch over with the weight. Then you look like Sani.”

Scarlett laughed. She felt better. Sani chuckled and made her deliberate way back to her chair. She sat and rested a few minutes, then spoke again.

“You know game ‘patty-cake’”?

Scarlett, a bit startled, said yes.

“Want to play?”

A strange request, but what the heck.
“Sure,” she said, and pulled her chair in front of Sani’s. Sani put her hands up.

“You say words, OK?”

“OK,” Scarlett answered, pressing her hands against Sani’s. The old woman’s hands were dry but warm. She moved her hands slowly, so Sani could keep up.

“Patty-cake, patty-cake, baker’s man, bake me a cake as fast as you can...” They touched hands and clapped s
oftly. Sani’s eyes crinkled with pleasure at the game. Scarlett never forgot those moments.