--1--

Daniel felt lighthearted when he opened the door and called out to Amanda.  He went into the kitchen, put a bottle of wine on the table, and kissed her on the cheek.  “Should we dress in character for tonight’s read?”

            She pulled plates out of the cupboard.  “You can.”

            He fished out the corkscrew from the junk drawer and rinsed it off in the sink.  “I’ve been looking forward to this all week, Mand.  I miss you reading to me.”

            Amanda gave him a look of surprise.  “I thought you would prefer to go to the Halloween party.”

            Daniel shrugged.  “Not really.  Pastor Richmond was telling me how he mentioned to you about the choir practices.  I think it would be a good idea to go sometimes.”

            She nodded.  “It made me think of the records you relax to when Robert is here and is being difficult.”

            “They help me meditate.”

            Amanda closed the cupboard and finished setting the table while Daniel began spooning pot pie into a serving bowl.  He put it by the bottle of wine and then went back for a couple of wine glasses.  “Amanda, would you like me to put this jar in the refrigerator?”

            Amanda looked at the jam she had left on the counter.  “Yes, please.  That’s Samantha’s.”

            “It looks good.”

            “I wouldn’t recommend trying it.  She was tasting it when she was filling the jar.”

            “Ah.  Maybe we can make some of our own then.”

            Amanda told him how easy it was to make and how Samantha seemed to enjoy herself.  As Daniel listened, he recalled the conversation he and Pastor Richmond exchanged earlier and when she finished telling of her day, he brought up the verse David shared with him.  “I think you would like it.  It has to do with peace.”

            “Peace?”

            Daniel took a sip of wine.  “You like doing word focuses.  Why not look it up?  It may help with what you’re dealing with at Sanford.”

            “I’ll consider it,” she answered.  Daniel watched as she took a bite.  “I’m also thinking about where to go after Thanksgiving and am wondering if you would be interested in going down to NASA.”

            “That sounds like fun,” Daniel answered.  “Don’t they have an aquarium close by too?”

            “I don’t know.  I want to go to a travel agency one day next week and see what is in the area.”

            “How long do you think you can afford to be away from Sanford?”

            Amanda’s look was flat.  “I can’t.  So, I’m doing what I think is best.”

            She explained how she asked Pamela to introduce a story hour after lunch two days a week to see how the patients responded and if it went well, to begin adding more days.  She also was going to ask Pastor Richmond about talking to art teachers at the surrounding elementary schools to see if they could have any crayons or other supplies they were planning to throw away and start doing simple art projects.  “I even want to see if some of the more stable patients can help in the cafeteria.”

            “Dr. Thompson would be impressed.”

            Amanda fell silent for a moment, lost in her thoughts, and then asked Daniel how his day was.  “It wasn’t bad.  Had one patient with a bad case of gout, but other than that, it was fine.”

            “Gout is painful.”

            “Yes, it is.  I also had some blood drawn from the patient.  Since the eyes were not anicteric, I want to do a liver panel to be on the safe side.”

            After dinner, Daniel put the leftovers away while Amanda cleared the table.  She washed the few dishes as he busied himself by pouring a couple of glasses of Hennessy over ice. “Do you want me to grab the book?”

           “It’s already on the coffee table.  How much of the bottle is left?”

            “A little over a fourth.”

            She turned off the water and wiped her hands on the dishtowel on the side of the sink.  “Maybe you should have gone to the party.  You could have gotten another bottle.”

            “Only if you come with me, Mand.”  He saluted her, picked up their glasses, and marched out of the kitchen.  Amanda shook her head and grabbed the bottle before turning off the kitchen light.

--2--

Dr. Wilson looked up and down the hallway before slipping into Samantha’s room.  It had been a while since he peeked in on her and he wondered how she was fairing under Amanda’s care.  He approached her bed slowly and was filled with a sense of loathing.  Except for her hair, Samantha looked healthy.  There was a tint in her cheeks which were no longer gaunt and her skin didn’t look clammy.  She radiated the type of peace that only existed in the young before being robbed of their innocence.  “What is happening to you, Samantha?”

            His whisper rose above her bed and hung unanswered.  She stirred and rolled over towards him.  Her head rested on her forearm and the other one hugged something to her chest.  Nathan’s hands opened and closed at his sides as he struggled to refrain from touching her.  He tried to focus on his wife, but it didn’t help.  In the end, he shoved his fists in his pockets and left the room. 

            Nathan looked at the clock on the wall and saw it was after 10:00.  He had less than an hour before he went home, and decided to go to medical records.  He turned on the light and pulled out the drawer where Samantha’s file was kept.  As he thumbed through the folders, he was surprised to see it was not where it should have been.  It made him wonder where the bitch was keeping it.  With a frown, he closed the drawer and went back to the nurse’s station.

            The chatter was lively as Nurse Horscham went over her meeting with Dr. Blake.  “She wants me to read to the patients after lunch for an hour.  Can you believe it?”

            Dr. Wilson snorted.  “What are you going to read?  Picture books?”

            Pamela recoiled as if struck.  She thought it was a good idea as well as an honor to be acknowledged by Dr. Blake.  Her voice was controlled and laced with what she hoped was enough condescension to make him feel stupid.  “Why?  So you can read to them?”

            Nurse Matthews almost choked.  “What type of books,” she asked.

            Pamela’s eyes were steely as she reiterated what Dr. Blake told her.  “Dr. Suess would be insulting.  She wants things like A Wrinkle in Time and The Chronicles of Narnia.  I’m going to suggest The Neverending Story as well.”

            “Those are good books, no matter what age,” Heather mused.  “I’m surprised Dr. Blake knows of them.”

            “Same here,” Pamela admitted.  “I thought all she was interested in was research and making people suffer.”

            Dr. Wilson laughed.  The idea was absurd.  What good was it to waste an hour on then with reading?  “Come on now.  A Wrinkle in Time?  Does she really think they’re going to understand it?  They can’t even tie their own shoes.”

            “I’m surprised you even heard of it,” Pamela retorted.

            “I agree, Pamela,” Heather interjected.  “It’s a great idea.  Now let’s get out of here.”

            Nathan looked at Nurse Matthews.  “It’s 11:00 already?”

            She nodded.  “I have to take my daughter to the dentist tomorrow, so I need to get some sleep.  She’s not the easiest to get motivated in the morning.”

            Heather capped the pen she was using and stuck it in the pencil holder.  Nurse Horscham got up and pushed her chair under the desk.  The only ones remaining were a couple of night nurses and orderlies who were making rounds.  Nathan excused himself and waited in the bathroom until he felt certain his colleagues had left.  He grabbed his coat and checked his pockets for his keys, then went back to Samantha’s room and stood in the doorway.

            Samantha had shifted onto her back and was still holding the calendar.  Nathan did not risk entering as he had earlier.  Instead, he watched the rise and fall of her chest and made a mental note to get a better look at what she was holding.  He wanted to see if he could accuse Amanda of leaving a threatening object with the patient, though he doubted it.  He pulled himself out into the hall as the squeak of rubber soles became pronounced on the mopped tiles.  He pulled up the collar on his overcoat and left by the closest side entrance.

--3--

Katie was grateful for the cup of tea Dr. Timmons handed to her.  The rain made the air damp and showed no signs of letting up.  Denise’s smile lit up the gloom in the hut as she received hers.  “Thank you, Dr. Timmons.”

            Dr. Anthony Timmons nodded.  “So, you are wondering about the woman?”

            The girls looked at each other, unsure how to begin.  Katie began by sharing what she had seen that morning and asked if what the missionaries had said about what they called the laughing sickness was true.

            Dr. Timmons looked thoughtful.  “It’s what we are here to study,” he answered.  “To research the disease and eventually find a cure.  However, the most realistic way of it being eradicated is by letting those infected with it, die out.  They are no longer practicing mortuary cannibalism, so it’s a matter of time.”

            Denise looked puzzled.  “If it’s only a matter of time, then why research?  You know what causes it and they’ve stopped eating each other, so why look for a cure?”

            Anthony sipped from his clay bowl.  “If you had it, would you like to be on the receiving end of your way of thinking?”

            Denise looked down, embarrassed.  Katie filled the awkward pause.  “So what they said about the laughing sickness is true?”

            “It’s called Kuru.  From studies, there is an incredibly long incubation period from ten to thirty years.”

            “That’s what the Evangelists were saying,” Denise said.  “That they stopped eating each other somewhere between the ‘50s and ‘60s.”

            Katie held her breath and hoped Dr. Timmons wouldn’t find Denise’s ignorance crass.  “The late ‘50s and early ‘60s,” Anthony corrected.  He couldn’t fathom the girl’s idiocy in thinking no action would be taken for almost two decades before trying to help.  “I thought you two were with World Horizons.”

            Katie nodded.  “Yes.”

            Dr. Timmons’s tone was disdainful.  “Aren’t you here to do something like dig toilets?”

            Katie felt her cheeks turn crimson.  “You arrogant sonofa-“

            Denise interrupted her.  “The story about Kuru sounded farfetched.  You know Evangelicals.  Everyone is being punished and going to hell because of one thing or another, so they gotta get the word in.  Then Katie saw the woman collapse and it fit the description of what they were talking about.  We were just wondering if it was true and if there was anything we needed to know.”

            Dr. Timmons grew thoughtful.  “On the surface, those who told you about Kuru did well.  It’s not contagious unless one eats infected brain matter or through blood exchanges.”

            Denise thanked him, took Katie by the arm, and led her out of the hut.  Heaven’s tears did little to cool the spark of anger that had been ignited by the doctor’s remark.  In a matter of steps, she lashed out not caring who was within earshot.  “That pompous piece of shit!  Just here to dig toilets?  I should go back and hit him with a shovel.”

            “Shh…He’ll hear you.”

            “I don’t care, Denise.”  Katie stopped and turned to face her friend.  “When my father came here, they were still practicing mortuary cannibalism.”

            Denise looked stunned then skeptical.  “How do you know?  Did he tell you?”

            Katie’s laugh was short and bitter.  “He didn’t have to.  I know how to subtract.  He was in his late twenties when he came here.  I’m guessing it was somewhere between 1958 and 1959.”

            “How old is he now?  How did you find out he was here?  Why was he here?”

            Katie’s mind was racing as Denise fired her questions.  “He is 53.  He told me.  I don’t know.”

            Her thoughts drifted back to the night before she left.  She was excited about going and possibly gaining some form of revered status for being able to bestow comfort on what she considered an underdeveloped group of people.  She was supposed to awe them with commonplace items like toothbrushes and shampoo.  Yet her father had used terms promoting caution and wisdom, making more sense now as they fell deeper into place.  “Daddy, you are right.”

            “What?”

            Katie sighed.  The rain continued to soak through her light cotton blouse and it chilled her skin.  Gooseflesh broke out on her arms and caused her to shudder.  “Nothing.  I just wonder – “

            Her voice trailed off.  The expression on Denise’s face was hard to read as she finished her friend’s thought.  “If he saw a funeral?”

            Katie looked down at the humic brown soil.  Her tears were camouflaged by Mother Nature as they dripped off her nose.  She didn’t want Denise to see her cry or mock her during the remainder of their trip.  The last thing she needed was to be told she was being paranoid.  She didn’t think the stretch of eternity before February could get any longer as she thought of home, yet it did.