Cutler 04 - Midnight Whispers

things will be all right, I told myself. Just for a while, permitted myself to crawl out from under that curse that lay over me like a heavy, flat rock.
    But I should have known better.
    I should have expected that it would find a way to block the sunlight from warming our lives.
    Gavin's shout woke me out of my pleasant dreams.
    "Christie, come quickly," he cried from the doorway. "It's Jefferson!"
    "What, Gavin?"
    "Something's terribly wrong with him!" he exclaimed. The terror in his face made my heart stop and I was out of bed in an instant.

 
    16

THE SHADOWS DEEPEN
     
    "WHAT'S THE MATTER, JEFFERSON?" I CRIED, UNABLE to keep the alarm out of my voice.
    Jefferson was lying rigidly on his back, his arms extended stiffly at his sides. His mouth was open just enough to permit him to voice a low moan. In fact, his jaw looked swollen, the skin around it taut.
    "He just started moaning like that," Gavin explained, "He woke me. When I asked him what was wrong, he only moaned again and again. Then he started calling for you."
    I put my hand on Jefferson's forehead.
    "He feels feverish."
    "Christie . . ." Jefferson said when his eyes flicked open and he saw me bending over him. His eyes were so full of pain and sadness, my heart went out to him.
    "What's wrong, Jefferson? What hurts?"
    "My neck feels like someone's squeezing it," he complained. He closed and opened his eyes with every word as if it was a major effort to utter each syllable. "And my face hurts, too. Make it stop, Christie, make it stop."
    "His face hurts? What . . . what could it be?" I asked Gavin. He shrugged.
    "A flu, maybe."
    "He definitely has a fever," I said. Jefferson's lips were very dry and his tongue looked pale pink. "Cold," Jefferson said. "Brrrr . . ."
    "You're cold?" I asked him and he nodded.
    "I'll put my blanket over him," Gavin said and moved quickly to his bed to get the quilt Aunt Charlotte had provided. He and I spread it over Jefferson's little body and tucked it in at his chin. Still, he shuddered.
    "Cold," he repeated.
    "It's such a warm night," I said, astounded. "How can he be so cold?" I rubbed his arm and shoulder vigorously.
    "It's the chills . . . from the fever," Gavin said.
    "He looks pretty sick," I said. "His skin is so pale and why is he lying so rigidly? He's as stiff as a board. Just feel his arms, Gavin."
    "Maybe because of the fever," Gavin guessed after touching Jefferson.
    "I should take his temperature. I wonder if Aunt Charlotte would have a thermometer."
    "Somehow, I doubt it," Gavin said.
    "We'd better do something quickly . . . wake Aunt Fern and tell her to look at him."
    "I doubt if she knows what to do," Gavin said. "Don't waste your time."
    "But her boyfriend might. He looks 'intelligent," I said.
    "He can't be too intelligent if he stuck himself with Fern," Gavin said.
    "My eyes hurt, Christie, and my throat, too," Jefferson complained. "It hurts to swallow and it hurts to turn my head."
    "It's definitely the flu, I bet," Gavin said, nod-ding. "I felt the same way when I had it."
    "What did your mother do?" I asked, feeling more frantic with every passing moment. "I had the flu, but I can't ever remember being this sick."
    "She called the doctor and he told her to give me aspirin and make me drink a lot of liquids. It took a little more than a day, but I felt better pretty quickly after that. Don't worry," Gavin assured me, "I'm sure it's nothing more."
    "Still, I'd better have Aunt Fern or her boyfriend look at him, don't you think?"
    Seeing how nervous I was, Gavin reluctantly nodded.
    "I hate to ask her for anything," he muttered. "Stay with him," I said and left to go to Aunt Fern's room.
    This late at night, only one lone kerosene lamp remained burning in the corridor. The shadows made the hallway look longer and more lonely. I scurried along as quickly as I could and knocked on Aunt Fern's door. Neither she nor her boyfriend responded. Maybe they're still downstairs, I thought. The-flickering light from the small flames in the lamps below made the shadows dance on the walls beside the stairway and above. I decided to knock again, only much louder.
    "Aunt Fern? Are you in there? Aunt Fern."
    I heard what sounded like a lamp falling over. Something crashed on the floor. The noise was followed by a ripple of curses.
    "What the hell is it?" Fern screamed from within and then the door was thrust open. Aunt Fern swayed. She stood there totally nude, her hair wild, her eyes barely open.
    "What do you