Unseen Messages(115)

Moving to his feet, I tested the water. It wasn’t boiling anymore but was still too hot. But we had no antibiotics; nothing to fight whatever battled in Conner’s nervous system. I’d rather burn him than let him die from anaphylactic shock.

“Take a deep breath.”

Stealing his foot, I placed it into the hot water.

He screamed.

“What the hell, Estelle?” Galloway shouted.

Pippa squealed, her sobs turning to hysteria. “Stop it! Don’t hurt him!”

Anxiety and horror at causing more pain made me snap. “Shut up. All of you. This is what has to happen.” I pushed his foot back into the water. “Please, Conner. Be brave.”

He moaned and thrashed, but his strong little heart gave him the courage to keep his foot in such fiery hotness. The moment I knew he’d keep it there, I turned to the medical kit and wrenched open the second-to-last packet of disinfectant swabs we had.

Wrenching his foot out of the water, I scrubbed his wound hard.

I ignored his screams and tugs to pull away. I braced myself against the disbelieving look from Galloway as I deliberately hurt the poor boy.

But I did the right thing.

I was helping.

So I kept scrubbing, hard and fast, using my fingernails where needed in the wound to ensure nothing remained.

Conner retched again, holding his stomach as the cramping began.

More memories returned of what he would go through. The next twelve hours would be a terrible nightmare: tummy cramps, breathlessness, weakness, headache, diarrhoea, vomiting, paralysis, and even skin peeling from the infected area.

But that was only if he had a full dose.

A minor sting would bring him immense agony with a peaked fever for the first hour or two...after that, it would start to fade.

Hopefully.

Please...please let this work.

Conner passed out before I finished cleaning, and Pippa turned almost catatonic with tears.

My own tears threatened to wash me away, but I blocked everything out and focused on holding Conner’s foot in the scorching water before sluicing it with fresh coconut juice (for whatever antibacterial and antioxidant properties it might have).

The rest of the day was the longest I’d ever lived. I remained nurse to Conner, flitting around him like a nervous hummingbird while Galloway turned into nightmare-fighter and tear-protector for Pippa.

She dozed and woke up screaming. She cried and passed out from tiredness.

Poor thing had it worse than Conner did because at least he passed out from pain and let his body heal without being conscious.

It didn’t matter if he was awake or sleeping, I never left his side.

Galloway and I shared numerous looks, gradually fading from horror at possibly losing him to accepting relief as Conner slowly got better.

My calculations were right.

Conner was stung at one p.m. on Saturday (thanks to my phone and its steadfast ability at telling time, even if it couldn’t catch a signal). By one a.m. on Sunday, Conner was over the worst, and he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

.............................

Three days passed and my entire attention remained on Conner.

I didn’t have time to wonder if Galloway and I would be okay. I didn’t contemplate the fact we hadn’t come or how thick the unspoken discussion hovered around us.

All I could focus on was Conner.

Galloway and I were okay. We were friends. We would work through a bad experience and move on. Sex wasn’t everything. And besides, I loved him so much more than that.

But for now...he didn’t need me.

Conner did.

Luckily, he healed quickly. The skin around the sting didn’t peel, but it did stay bright red (from the poison and the burning water) but that didn’t stop him from growing quarrelsome and wanting to head back out to fish.

Galloway and I flatly forbid him, and Galloway took over, bringing home another octopus and a large eel that strangely tasted like chicken (just like everyone said). My vegetarian preferences had been put on hold in favour of my belly earning a full meal.

Pippa stopped crying whenever Conner went to sleep, and Conner spent most of the day teasing her for causing so much fuss when he was ill. She was wary, not trusting his return to health, as if expecting him to die at any moment and pull a terribly cruel joke on her.

Because of her nervous terror, she never left his side, plastering herself to him wherever he limped to the bathroom and pestering him when she insisted on eating almost in his lap.

Conner rolled his eyes and poked and joked, but he never once snapped at her to leave him alone. He understood how terrifying it had been for her.

After all, he’d lost his parents, too.

Pippa was all he had left.

Despite the passing days and Conner steadily growing stronger, Pippa regressed into sucking her thumb again.

We’d all been through an awful ordeal. But at least our family was still intact.

Late at night, sleeping in my bed and feeling grateful for what we’d achieved, it sucker punched me with realisation of just how insignificant we were.

Against all odds, we’d made a home here. We’d learned how to forage and hunt. We’d educated on how to build and create. And yet...we were so vulnerable to Mother Nature and her creatures.

That reminder stole the rest of my na?vety that we would one day be rescued and go home. Ever since the crash, I’d believed that as long as we kept going, kept trusting that we would be found, that everything would be okay.