Godspeed

Chapter 5

When next I opened my eyes, the fire had dimmed and nearly died out in the smoldering hearth. The room had taken on an obvious chill, and even the antique lamps were flickering as if at the very end of their strength to burn on

It was then that I saw him — them — as much to my surprise, both men had returned at some point in time and remained in the room, keeping watch upon me, still.

Schuyler had fallen asleep in the chair across from my position, a small woven throw haphazardly tossed over his long legs. The doctor was not asleep and appeared as if he never had been. He was poring over the contents of a small, leather bound book. His eyes raced back and forth at dizzying speed as he devoured each word, examined every page, and scribbled notes upon them as though his life depended on it.

I knew, without a doubt, that it was my life that actually did.

I felt the familiar, flittering ache in my chest that signaled my heart was again forgetful of the proper rhythm it was to keep. I managed to utter a soft moan to convey my distress. The doctor jumped from his chair and was soon at my side.

“Pain?” he asked.

Again, I groaned.

“Schuyler, get up.”

Schuyler jolted, and as he fought his way back from dreaming to respond, I again felt the cold metal of the doctor’s listening scope against my skin.

“There’s very little time left,” the doctor said, his voice a tapestry threaded of concern, dread, and regret.

“What shall we do?” Schuyler’s teeth caught his lower lip for a moment and clamped down with such force that they threatened to pierce it through. “Do we just let Death win this time? Does the great Doctor Godspeed refuse even to try?”

Quinn spun on Schuyler and gave him a look that could have set the world itself afire. “Don’t you dare speak to me of letting Death win as if it is ever an acceptable choice!”

“I’m sorry, Quinn, I…” Schuyler reddened, obviously pained by his own misspoken words.

Quinn held up his hand, a swift, definitive gesture indicating that the other man should say no more. He returned his eyes to me, and a chill rose from within me that had no relation to the cold. “Tend the fire, Schuyler.”

With an obvious, emotional hitch in his voice, Schuyler agreed that he would.

Quinn now raised both hands upward in a shrug of exasperation before he stared down at me once more. “I ask you again, girl, for the truth. You are running out of time in which to tell it. It would grieve me for you to leave this life without my at least knowing your name.”

I fought to speak, and the pain increased with the effort. I managed one weak shake of my head, and he sighed.

“You mystify me. You act as if you are almost weary enough of life to welcome death; yet trapped in your stare, just behind, I see the workings of a thoughtful mind. Barely utilized. Barely tested as to its limits. Its potential.” His voice dropped in volume. “In you, there is something undiscovered. Something more.”

I watched his eyes reflect the newborn flare of the fire, and I was grateful that if I closed mine now, never to open them again, the last sight I would see would be his beautiful, haunted face.

“You are little more than a child, yet you confront your own death with the unaffected stoicism of an old soldier. How is that possible?”

I was far too weak to offer him an answer, even if my heart was overflowing with emotions and desperate to give voice to them. This moment felt like a sort of confession, perhaps a chance for deathbed absolution, though I wondered, in truth, what mortal sins I could have committed in my young life to require such Divine forgiveness.