Renee Flicker's Arc

Chapter 2 of 4

By late morning Renee had coaxed two slices of dry toast into Ally and half a cup of water. Ally kept them down for almost an hour. Then she sat up on the patchwork couch, went white, and reached for the bin. What came up was the toast, the water, and a thin yellow bile that smelled sharp. Ally coughed, spit, and started to cry. Renee held her hair back and rubbed slow circles between her shoulder blades. She had seen Ally sick before, but not like this. Ally almost never cried. She was the friend who answered a hard question with three words and walked away. "I can't keep anything," Ally said. Her voice cracked on the last word. "I know. I've got you." Renee eased her back against the cushions and lifted the hem of her shirt. Ally's belly was tight and rounded above the waist of her jeans, warm to the touch. Renee pressed with two fingers. Ally flinched. "This must be one of your more severe ones," Renee said. "The ones you get when your anxiety's bad." "I don't feel good at all," Ally sobbed. "I know, baby. Just try to rest." Ally nodded and laid back down. Renee wiped her mouth with a damp cloth and set the bin closer to the couch. She thought about the letter she had sent the healer two towns over. Evening was still hours away. Ally did not have hours to wait quiet. Renee crossed to the desk. She uncapped the ink again and wrote a shorter note this time. One line. Come now. She folded it, sealed it, and stepped out onto the porch of the pine cabin. The post boy was down the lane throwing stones at a fence post. She whistled him over and pressed the note and two coins into his hand. "Run," she said. "Don't walk. If she isn't home, find her." He ran. Back inside, Ally had curled on her side with one hand on her stomach. Renee knelt by the couch and pulled the quilt up to her shoulders. "I sent for her again," Renee said. "She'll come faster now." Ally's eyes were closed. "The witness." "Gone from my head. You're what I'm doing today." Ally didn't answer. Her breathing slowed and thinned. Renee stayed on the floor beside her and watched her chest rise. The satchel with the lord's letter sat by the door where she had dropped it that morning. Renee did not look at it. She had already chosen. The office would wait a week. The stable hand would wait a week. If she lost him, she would find another, and start again from the first visit. Right now the only work in front of her was keeping Ally alive until the healer walked through the door. She reached up and took Ally's hand. Ally squeezed back, once, weak, and held on.