Rip - Becoming Whole

Fever

At some time during the night when Robert woke to relieve his bladder of the few beers he had earlier, he thought he heard a strange noise coming from the bathroom below, so he went downstairs to investigate. 

He found Rip sitting on the floor between the toilet and the wash hand basin with his back against the cold tiles of the bathroom wall, looking weak and as pale as the tiles behind him. The smell in the room told him that the boy had been getting sick.

"Hey buddy. What's up?" Robert asked as he knelt in front of him. 

"I don't know, Robert. I think I just fainted," Rip replied weakly, "every time I try to get up, I get all dizzy and have to sit back down again." 

Robert helped him up and brought him back to his bed, then left to fetch his father.

Despite it being an unusually warm night for this time of year, and having put on several layers of clothing, Rip was shivering and complaint about feeling cold. Mr Dutton insisted he take off some of the clothes and made him drink a glass of water, after which Rip felt a little better and went back to sleep. His sleep however was restless, trashing about in his bed and moaning in discomfort. They looked for fever medication but realised that they had run out. They couldn't find a thermometer either, but the boy was hot to touch.

"Should we get the doctor for him?" Robert asked his father somewhat worried as they both watched over the restlessly sleeping boy. 

"Whenever one of you were sick, your mother used to say that as long as you guys managed to keep the fluids down, you were going to be okay. So, let's just wait and see. We should try and get that fever down though. He looks very uncomfortable with it. Go get me a bowl of warm water and a sponge," he instructed his son.

By the time Robert had come back Rip's fever was sky high and his discomfort was escalating. It was hard to tell whether he was asleep or awake, as he complaint about a venomous snake in his bed that was trying to bite him and fears of being crushed by a monster. He called first for his father then his mother for help and sobbed when he realised, they weren't going to come to save him. Mr Dutton hid his disappointment that he didn't call for him but tried his best to sooth the boy, "I am here son. I am here. You are safe! I won't let anyone hurt you."

Remembering how Dante, their vet talked Rip through the procedure when he tended to the boy's dislocated shoulder, Mr Dutton talked soothingly to the boy as he tried to strip him down to his boxers. It was clear the boy felt threatened by this, as he begged him to stop and started to lash out aimlessly at his uncle and calling him horrible names. Apart from the one scratch on the neck that Rip was able to land with the fingernails of his right hand, the boy's efforts were largely futile though, as he had no strength left in him. He looked as if he was trying to swat away imaginary flies.

"Father, should we be doing this?" Robert asked anxiously. The old man looked at him in surprise. "Father look at him, he is terrified. This can't be good for him," Robert pleaded. 

"Don't be stupid Robert," Mr Dutton gave out. "Can't you see, he's hallucinating? It's the fever that has him in this state, and I am trying to get it down. When one of your calves gets tangled up in barbed wire, I would hope you get in there and take charge to cut it loose, no matter how freaked out the poor animal is by you. Now, don't just stand there and give me a hand. We need to get this fever down," the old man scolded his son, making him feel like a teenager again. He wanted to tell his father that of course he would be able to get right in there and had done so many times but that this was entirely different. He decided to keep stumm however as this was neither the time nor the place to have it out with him, and on top of that, he had to admit his father was right.