Page 83 of The Moon Sister
The herbs and spices – which had filled the cabin with an almost antiseptic smell – had turned the water a murky brown colour. I took the pot off the gas burner and poured the concoction into Chilly’s tin mug.
‘Chilly, it’s ready. You need to wake up and drink it.’
He took some rousing, but I managed to put the mug to his lips and he took small sips until the mug was empty.
‘Be okay now, Hotchiwitchi.’ He smiled, patted my hand and closed his eyes again. I decided that I’d give him an hour to see if his potion had brought down the raging temperature, and if it hadn’t, I’d radio Cal to call the doctor.
It was snowing again outside, the flakes obscuring the light from the tiny windows as they piled up on the sill. I wondered yet again how on earth Chilly had survived for all these years here, alone. But then he’d say that he wasn’t alone – that the trees, the wind, and the birds talked to him and kept him company.
It was interesting how most people I knew found silence impossible. They drowned it out with music, TV or chat. Yet I loved it, because it allowed you to hear the silence properly, which of course wasn’t silence at all, but a cacophony of natural sounds: the birds singing, the leaves on the trees rustling in the breeze, the wind and the rain . . . I closed my eyes and listened, hearing a faint tapping as the snowflakes fell against the windowpane, like fairies trying to gain entry . . .
I must have fallen asleep too, exhausted as I was from last night, because before I knew it, I felt a hand on my arm.
‘Fever gone now, Hotchiwitchi. Give me more and you do go.’
The light had grown dim, and as I reached over to check Chilly’s forehead, which was now as cool as my own, I saw too that his eyes had cleared and were looking at me with something akin to affection. He coughed, and I heard the continuing deep rattle in his chest.
‘I will, yes, but I don’t like the sound of that cough, Chilly,’ I replied as I got up and went to the dresser. ‘It sounds as if you need an inhaler and maybe some antibiotics.’
‘Man medicine is poison!’ he said for the umpteenth time.
‘Man medicine has saved countless lives, Chilly. Look at the age we’re all living to these days.’
‘Look at me!’ Chilly beat his chest weakly, like an ancient Tarzan. ‘I do same without any!’
‘True, but then we all know that you’re special,’ I said as I lit the gas flame to warm the smelly potion up.
There was silence from Chilly, which was unusual.
Eventually he spoke. ‘You are special too, Hotchiwitchi. You’ll see.’
I braved the swirling snow outside, wondering whether I’d actually manage to find my way home or was stuck here for the night, and collected some logs to re-stoke the fire, as well as bringing in the radio pack from the Land Rover. When the brew was ready, I held the cup for Chilly so he could sip it.
He refused my help and held it himself, his grasp shaking a little, but it was obvious that he was much better than he’d been earlier.
‘You get home before dark. Bad weather.’
‘I’m going to leave my radio pack with you, Chilly. Do you know how to use it?’
‘No. Take it away. If my time here is gone, it’s gone.’
‘Chilly, if you tell me that, I really can’t leave you.’
He grinned at the expression on my face then shook his head. ‘Hotchiwitchi, not my time yet. But when it is . . .’ He grabbed my hand suddenly. ‘You will know.’
‘Don’t say that, Chilly, please. Now, if you’re sure, I’d better go before it gets properly dark. I’ll be back to see you tomorrow first thing. Whatever you say, I’m leaving the radio pack with you. Just press either button and Cal or me will answer the call at the other end. Promise?’
‘Promise.’
There was a real blizzard outside now, and my heart bumped unnaturally as I navigated Beryl through the curtain of snow. I drew the car to a halt, searching for what was road and what was burn, iced over and covered with a snowy topping. I knew if I strayed off course, the frozen water would not be strong enough to take a Land Rover’s weight.
‘Shit!’ As my heart rate crept up, I decided that I’d try to turn round and go back to Chilly’s until the blizzard abated, but I realised I couldn’t do that now either, because the river might only be a few centimetres away to my left and I could easily back straight into it.
‘Andyou left the radio at Chilly’s, you stupid woman,’ I admonished myself, my teeth now chattering with cold and fear.
Just when I was resigning myself to slowly freezing to death, I saw a pair of bright headlights in the distance. Five minutes later, Zed’s brand-new Range Rover appeared next to my car. I was filled with relief and trepidation as the driver climbed out and made his way over to me.
‘Thank God!’ both Cal and I said together as he heaved open the door.
