Beyond the Glades

Chapter 2; Positive

Throwing up had become a daily routine for Thomas, something that couldn't ever be avoided, it seemed. He'd eat breakfast, throw up, then go about his chores. Afternoon would come and he'd be able to actually stomach down lunch without throwing up. Chores would ensue, complete with complaining of other things such as his chest aching or how tired he was, and then supper time would roll around. He would eat a decent sized supper, thinking he'd finally gotten over his mysterious sickness, and then he'd be in the forest throwing up everything he'd eaten earlier. Then, he'd go to bed, despite all the other boys' suggestions for him to get checked out. The day would start anew in a similar fashion.

After five days of this routine, he finally broke and went to the medical hut, looking for Jeff or Clint to help diagnose his symptoms.

"Jeff?" he called softly as he walked around and the young darker-skinned med-jack appeared, rubbing his hands on a piece of clothing.

"Finally decided to come see me, huh?" he asked teasingly and Thomas rolled his eyes, a smirk pulling up at the corner of his lips.

"I got tired of all the complaining. Besides, I took a bet with Chuck."

"Oh yeah? On what, exactly?" Jeff asked as he pointed at a bed for the dark-haired boy to sit on.

"Chuck betted that this was something serious and that it was severely contagious. And I told him that I bet it was nothing to be concerned about and that you would tell me to just sleep it off or something."

Jeff grinned at him as he came over, setting down beside him so that he could check him over. After finding no unusual markings or injuries, he resorted to checking his pulse and his temperature.

"I'm not finding anything out of the ordinary, Thomas. You seem to be in great health. You don't have any injuries on you and I'm not seeing any markings that could point to any deadly diseases. It could be anything. Food poisoning, stomach bugs, or even a sensitivity you've developed with some of the foods used to make our meals. Run over your symptoms with me again, would you?"

Thomas nodded, licking his lips slightly as he rubbed his hands over the knees of his jeans, thinking of everything before answering.

"Okay, so, obviously I've been throwing up a lot. My chest hurts but not all of my chest. And it doesn't hurt all the time. It only hurts when there's pressure like when I sleep on my stomach. I feel bloated sometimes and I'm exhausted all the time even though I'm getting as much sleep as anyone else here. I'm starving all the time and I can't seem to stop peeing."

Jeff nodded slowly as he wrote down all the symptoms Thomas listed off. He glanced at the boy, waiting to see if Thomas would continue.

"Oh, and sometimes my stomach hurts. But, again, it's not like a hurt hurt. It's like my stomach muscles are tightening and that's what's causing the pain."

Thomas snuck a look at the med-jack as he looked over the list, his eyebrows scrunched up in concentration.

"Did I get everything?" he finally asked, handing the list to the boy, watching as he scanned over the list before nodding.

"Okay. Try to get something down for lunch and don't stuff yourself at supper tonight. See if that helps. I'll talk with Clint and see what he thinks about all of this."

"Okay. Um, Jeff, if I was, you know, dying? You'd tell me, right?"

"Of course, greenie. I don't think you're dying but I'm not quite sure what's going on. So, hold off on boasting about winning the bet with Chuck until I know for sure."

Thomas nodded and stood, heading out of the medical hut and back to his chore, Jeff's eyes following after him as he tried to make connections between the symptoms given to him.