Verita (30 page)

I continue to watch the
meerkit
. He runs his thumbs from the outside of the wound towards the center, slowly squeezing out all of its contents. There’s a little blood, and more pus – but there’s also another yellow substance that resembles feta cheese in texture. It’s reluctant to exit the wound. Ryan continues to moan as the
meerkit
presses harder on his hand, trying to work out the substance. Finally, the bulk of the ‘cheese’ exits the wound. The
meerkit
drops Ryan’s hand and begins to break apart the substance. In the center, three green sprouts are revealed. My hand flies to my mouth as I gasp in horror. Not only had I caused Ryan to get hit by the flower’s spikes; I failed to remove them completely.

The
meerkit
seems satisfied with what he finds. He prods Ryan’s wound again, gives a satisfied nod, and turns and leaves the igloo. Before I have a chance to follow, the
meerkit
returns. His cheeks are bulging. He spits water into Ryan’s wound to clean it. Recognizing what he’s doing, I quickly grab some empty containers from my pack and run to the lake to fill them. I place the water next to the
meerkit
. He nods, grabs one of the containers, and slowly pours it over Ryan’s hand. Next he grabs the second container and dribbles water into Ryan’s mouth. I lift Ryan’s head to help. The
meerkit
looks at me and thrusts the container into my other hand. I take over trying to coax Ryan into drinking some more.

The
meerkit
turns and leaves the igloo with the empty container he has already used. When he returns it’s overflowing with opal berries. He takes a handful in his hands and smashes them. He lets the juice dribble into the opening of Ryan’s wound. Next he smears the mashed berries all over the side of Ryan’s hand and carefully places the hand on Ryan’s stomach. He climbs over to Ryan’s head, swats me away, and grabs a berry in a pincer grip. He squeezes the berry’s juice into Ryan’s mouth, then hands one to me. I do the same. He hands me another and waits for me to squeeze it. Once I do, he thrusts the container of berries into my hands. Then he turns and leaves the igloo for good, leaving Ryan, Caper and I behind.

I feel bleakly hopeful. The
meerkit
seemed to know what he was doing, but everything had been so unsanitary. I fear that what the
meerkit
did may cause Ryan more harm than good. But at this point, Ryan is most likely going to die either way; so relying on the
meerkit’s
knowledge is my only hope.

Throughout the day, I continue to wipe Ryan down with cool water and feed him the juice of the berries and water. He stays unconscious the whole time, but occasionally mumbles words that are mostly unintelligible. The few things I am able to understand are names. He repeatedly says, “Sorry, Kelly,” and occasionally shouts “No. Brett, no!” The latter makes me cringe: he must be reliving the stupid actions that caused all of this.

Caper keeps me company throughout the day and into the night. He brings more berries whenever the container runs low, saving me from leaving Ryan’s side. The rest of the time he strokes my hand or Ryan’s hair and coos and purrs at us. I assume the sounds are meant to comfort, and I hope they work for Ryan. I am so distraught with worry and guilt that there is no comforting me.

It’s late in the night, maybe midnight, by the time I first notice a change in Ryan: his skin is cooling off. His fever has broken. I look closely at his skin. It’s hard to tell in the dim light, but I think the yellow tinge is disappearing. I’m wild with delight over these first real signs of hope. I start to pray to whatever powers that will listen that the fever and infection haven’t done too much damage, and that he will be normal when – if – he regains consciousness.

Throughout the remainder of the night, Ryan’s mumblings become more coherent. I’m able to conclude that he’s apologizing to Kelly for hurting her, and asking me not to leave. The “No, Brett, no!” has become “No, Brett, no! Don’t leave!” I feel relieved over his improvement and knowing that he isn’t tortured with reliving the flower attack over and over. I wonder why he thinks I’m leaving. Is he imagining I’m leaving him behind because he can no longer continue? I try my best to reassure him, that I’m right by his side and not going anywhere.

It’s barely dawn when Ryan actually opens his eyes and speaks. “Brett—” His voice is weak and scratchy.

“Don’t talk; just rest,” I plead. Tears run freely down my cheeks as a smile spreads across my face.

He squints his eyes at me as he attempts to focus his view. “You look like hell,” he notes as he stares at me.

“You should see yourself,” I chuckle as I grab some water and lift his head to allow him to drink. After a moment, he pushes the bowl away.

“What happened?” he asks weakly. “The last thing I remember was getting really dizzy.”

“I’ll tell you later when you’re rested and have more strength,” I advise as I lower his head.

“I will if you do. You really do look like hell. When is the last time you slept?” The concern in his voice gives me a pang of guilt.

“It’s been a while,” I admit. Finally, paying some attention to myself, I realize my stomach is nauseous with hunger, and my head is throbbing. It reminds me of the feeling I’d had when my parents woke me early in the morning to leave on a ski trip. They’d wake me at 4 am and load me into the car with my pillows. I’d sleep the whole drive up. But those few minutes before falling back asleep, I always felt like this. I know I need to rest.

“Here, there’s enough room on here for two.” He slides sideways on the open sleeping bag and pats beside him. “I’m not going to be able to sleep unless I know you are comfortable and sleeping yourself,” he warns, noticing my reluctance.

He’s weak enough, and I don’t want him to waste any more energy. So I join him, grumbling, “Fine.” I climb onto the edge and lay down.

“What, are you worried that I’m suddenly going to start biting?” he teases, and I take it as a sign that he truly is going to be okay. I sigh and inch a little closer. I use my arm as a pillow, and I quickly fall asleep.

When I wake, my head is on Ryan’s chest, and his arm is wrapped around my shoulders. He chuckles when he notices I’m awake. It was such a short time ago I thought I would never hear that sound again. Softly he says, “I was beginning to think you’d sleep the whole day.”

“Sorry.” I push myself off him and sit up.

“Don’t be. You needed it.” I have missed hearing his warm, gentle voice.

“Let me get you some water.” I start to stand up, but Ryan grabs my hand.

“I’ve already had plenty to eat and drink while you were asleep,” he assures me.

“Why didn’t you wake me so I could help you?” My voice is hurt and filled with agony.

“Don’t make me keep repeating myself. You needed the sleep, and I didn’t need the help. Caper gathered most of the berries for me while I got myself some water and washed my hand.” He pauses, looking at the wound. I’m amazed at how much better it looks. There’s hardly any redness around the original three holes, my X-mark or the bite. Even more surprising is that the wound looks like it’s well on its way to healing.

I run my fingers over his hand. “I can’t believe—” My emotions cripple me. Unable to talk, I stare down at the ground.

“I have to admit I’m a little more than curious about the bite mark. Do you care to tell me now what I’ve missed?” He hands me a container of berries and motions for me to start talking.

I quickly recount the events of the last few days. When I’m done, Ryan is staring at me intently enough to make me squirm. “You’re amazing.” He grabs my hand and squeezes it. “I owe my life to you.”

“No!” I yell, surprising myself. “I’m a silly little girl who can’t control her own impulses. I almost got you killed, and if it wasn’t for Caper, you’d be dead right now. You don’t owe me anything,” I snort and pull my hand back.

Ryan glares back at me angrily. “You can stop berating yourself; you did enough of that while you slept.” His tone is suddenly stern.

“I don’t talk in my sleep.”

“Usually no, but apparently, when you’re guilt-ridden and exhausted enough, you do. Frankly I’ve had my fill of ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘It’s all my fault’, and I really don’t want to hear any more of it.” He looks at me, daring me to contradict him.

“If I had been smart enough not to go near that flower—”

“Enough,” he interjects forcefully. “From what you found in my hand from the flower, I suspect the scent did more than just attract you. I’m guessing the flower’s scent is meant to pull in its prey. It’s an ingenious way of reproducing, if you think about it. It uses the infected host to transport its seed to a new location, and then uses its corpse for instant fertilizer. Even if the new home for the seeds isn’t ideal, the nutrients provided by the host will last for quite some time.”

“You were able to resist it,” I meekly argue.

“That’s only because of my stuffy nose. I couldn’t smell anything.” He points to his nose, emphasizing the fact.

“I should have gotten the seeds out when I pulled out the spikes,” I insist.

“Hey, I’m the botanist, remember? I didn’t think the spikes were meant for injecting seeds. You can’t fault yourself for making the same mistake I did. Besides, the flower’s spikes are designed so the host doesn’t realize there’s anything in them until it’s too late.”

“It almost
was
too late. I thought you were going to die. If it had been left to me, you probably would have. Caper and his friend are the ones you should be thanking, not me,” I blabber, unwilling to forgive myself.

“You really can’t see how amazing you are.” He shakes his head at me in disbelief. “How many people would have even given the
meerkit
the chance to heal me? Most people would have instantly chased the animal away, but not you.”

“Most people have the common sense not to let a wild animal bite their friend.” I still won’t accept his thanks, regardless of what he thinks.

“Okay, so tell me why you did?” He notices my confused looked and clarifies. “Why did you let a
meerkit
you didn’t know come near enough to bite me? Then, after it
bit
me, why did you allow it to continue with what it was doing?” he asks. He sounds as though he already knows the answer.

“I trust Caper. He wouldn’t have brought the other
meerkit
here to hurt you. So I had to trust him, too, and let him do what Caper brought him here for.” My tone is getting defensive.

“That’s exactly my point. Do you realize how rare your response is? Just like when you defended Caper after he bit you. Your instinct told you what was right, and you followed it. Not to mention the strength it must have taken for you to drag my sorry ass to this spot in the first place.” He pauses to see if I am going to argue. When I open my mouth, he cuts me off. “You may want to feel guilty because a flower did the job nature designed it to do, but I’m not going to allow it.
You
, Caper and the other
meerkit
are the reason I’m alive. I’m thankful for it, and trying to say anything contrary is just an insult to me. Got it?”

I yield. “Got it. Can I add one thing?”

“What?” he asks warily.

“I’m glad you didn’t die.”

I wrap my hands around his neck and kiss his cheek. He hugs me back, and then we both just start to laugh with relief.

Chapter 22

To make sure Ryan is fully recovered, we decide to spend a few days at the lake. The large
meerkit
returns in the afternoon to observe how Ryan is doing. Ryan thanks him, not knowing if he understands the words or not. The
meerkit
just continues to examine Ryan. When he is satisfied with what he sees, he leaves. Caper stays with us the whole time. He seems to understand how just close we came to losing Ryan and, like me, he wants to make sure he really is alright. Caper keeps shadowing Ryan’s every move, but at least Ryan finds it amusing.

On the second day, I wake up to find the other side of the sleeping bag is cold. My hand automatically reaches out, seeking Ryan, but finds only the cold, hard metal of the floor. I open my eyes and see that the igloo is empty and open. I prop myself up on one elbow and listen. I hear Ryan whistling to himself in the distance, as tone deaf as ever, and I think it’s the best sound I’ve ever heard.

By lunch I have mostly recovered from my guilt, and I’m able to start enjoying our stay at the lake. The heat wave has ended, and the air is beginning to feel crisp. We can tell fall is on its way, but the water is still warm enough for swimming. We divide our time between swimming, lying in the sun and eating all the berries our stomachs can hold.

Lying out in the sun, I have a lot of time to think. Almost losing Ryan has made me face how much he truly means to me. I wouldn’t have been able to continue if I had lost him. I’ve been deluding myself this entire journey. I’d brushed off the moments of attraction between us as merely brought on by the situation we’re in. But now I know it’s been something more. Ryan has become a part of me, a part I can’t live without.

A part I also know isn’t mine. He belongs to Kelly. And I belong to Brody – at least, as far as everyone else is concerned. The rock on my finger is enough reminder of that.

I find myself pondering the difference between lust and love. Lust is a chemical, purely physical reaction. There is no question that it can be powerful – mind numbingly powerful. It can also be distracting, leading down paths one normally wouldn’t take. As
Andi
had once suggested, I try to imagine myself growing old with Brody. I try to imagine us together when our looks are long faded, and our sex drive has ebbed. Would there be anything left between us? I see my older self sigh, without much to say. Then I see the image in my mind change; I’m still elderly, but Ryan sits beside me. He’s old and gray, hardly able to move with age, but he turns to me and smiles with a mischievous look in his eye and teases me, making me blush.