Page 17 of A Girl, Unbroken
“I need more brew. Can you give me more?”
I shook my head. “Nathan says you can’t have too much. He has…”Enough, I thought, but to Sparta, I said, “He has to get more before we can give you more.”
Sparta grinned and his emaciated, doomed face looked grotesque. “Liar. I know. I only have days left if that. Give me more.”
I glanced at the floorboard under which the secret stash lay, not knowing what to do. I didn’t know how expensive it was or if Nathan had any way of getting more.
“How about some more moonshine? And in three hours you’ll get more of the decoction.”
Sparta nodded. I knelt, lifted his head, and gave him a few sips of liquor, but some of it ran out of his mouth and down his chin. It took a while until he had drunk as much as he wanted. Then, I washed his face and shook out the sheet covering him.
“Shall I fan you again?” I asked, reaching for the fan even though my arms were still aching. It was oppressively hot with an army of mosquitoes circling us. A little air would do Sparta good.
He shook his head, though. “Will…that’s what Nathan calls you, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” I swallowed. The fact was that he hadn’t called me that in a long time because we hadn’t spoken to each other since he had locked me up.
“It wasn’t me. I swear on the lives of my family, Samuel and Grace. I went to the bridge that night and secretly wanted to send off the SOS…as we had discussed. I wanted the ring…so I…I guess I’m a traitor after all. I thought the plan would fail and we’d be left empty-handed with no compensation…your ring was better than nothing…I would have shared the money too…with the people of Coldville…I didn’t want it only for myself…” He looked so miserable and grief-stricken as if he was ashamed, but I understood.
I set the fan aside. “I believe you.”
“I didn’t throw you overboard. I couldn’t have done that even though I despised you back then.”
“I know.” I would probably never find out who it was, but maybe that was a good thing. Here on the island, on LostMemories, I hadn’t forgotten the entire incident, but it had become like the whole world—a distant memory.
“He used the camphor ointment…but anyone could have stolen it from me.”
“That’s true.” I felt his forehead and was shocked by the intensity of the heat. Maybe I should call Nathan. The men were working under the porch of the hut because they wanted to reinforce the supporting posts. Perhaps Sparta needed more of the decoction after all. I cursed myself and all of us for being stuck here in the swamps without specialists or medicine. However, Sparta knew there was no medicine for him in the last days and weeks, at least not the medicine he needed. But he wouldn’t have gotten it in Canada either.
I dabbed his ashen face with a cloth, but the cloth was much too warm. We had obtained a mini-fridge from Mrs. Durand in exchange for a gigantic piece of driftwood, but even when the cloth came out of the freezer, it didn’t stay cold long enough.
Sighing, I stood up and put the cloth back in the refrigerator. When I turned around, Sparta was suddenly standing behind me, staring at me. His eyes were glassy, the alcohol taking effect, and he was swaying slightly. “I need more herbal brew. Now.” His body was shaking under the thin, white cloth shirt, his bare legs like sticks.
“I have to ask Nathan.” I was frightened but didn’t want him to know. I carefully led him to the mattress and helped him lie down, but when I found Nathan outside, he vehemently refused when I asked him for more of the medicine. “The brew is a gem, rare and expensive. We have to use it sparingly for Stan’s sake.”
I passed it on to Sparta, who then looked at me more intensely than ever before.
“I have another idea,” he whispered.
“What is it?” I didn’t like his look.
“You…” A subtle grin lit up his features, and suddenly, he seemed very alive, much more alive than I would have imagined possible. “You could undress for me and then I could concentrate on something else.”
“Excuse me?”
He nodded. “You heard right.”
“You’re quite a rascal,” I said, but I didn’t mean it in a bad way. “That might suit you.”
“Please.” Now he looked at me seriously. “I…I love my Grace…but Grace isn’t here. And I’m dying anyway. You would distract a dying man from his pain.”
“By seeing me naked?” I asked, shocked.
“I’m merely a man.” Sparta grinned even wider, but then a coughing fit shook him so violently that I feared he would suffocate. After that he lay exhausted on his pillows, silent, but with pleading eyes. The red pustules glowed like fresh chickenpox on his face.
I shook my head, but I was unsure. He was going to die and he missed his family. He was lying here and he was losing everything. Probably my father’s fault. And there were thousands of women all over the world who did things like that but mostly for money.
But you’re not one of the thousands, a voice whispered in my head.And Dad would be oh-so-ashamed of you!
