I don’t remember anything really. Not my family, not my friends, not where I am, not who I am, not anything. All I remember was drifting to sleep, but I wasn’t tired, and waking up? No, something about this didn’t seem like a reality, but what had just happened seemed far more like a dream than any dream will ever be…
The position of the sun showed it to be around noon at this small beach on the lake at Camp Cedar. To the left canoes rested under branches and leaves; to the right was an old wooden chair that rose ten feet, crudely painted white and rotting from age. And out on the water was a wooden dock, equally crudely painted and rotted as the life guard’s chair. Out of the distance was a child swimming towards the dock. The child swam with perfect form at an unusual speed, as if he were a fish swimming upon the surface of the water. Eventually, the child had reached the dock, panting like a dog and grasping the dock with a death grip.
I was on the dock, carrying a clipboard and a stop watch. I came towards the child as I stopped the watch and wrote some numbers next to his name.
“That was great, Josh, you beat Zach by three seconds.” I said to Josh, the child who swam to the docks, in that enthusiastic-about-everything-shit-face-smile tone that was expected to be used around the younger campers.
Well, not really expected, more like agreed to silently. No one had spoken of it, we all seemed to be thinking the same thing. keep the kids happy, let them have fun while they can. I’d hate to have to tell these kids something like that. How do you tell a kid there’s an epidemic of an unknown disease? At least I had some time before the camp got quarantined. I hoped that maybe it was something they could figure out, and that they would just treat those kids and let everyone get on with their lives…
“Let me go out, I’m gonna beat ‘em by ten!” Josh replied.
“Sorry, Josh, its too late for you to go out. We’ll miss lunch” I replied.
“Just…let…me…out…I…can…” he chocked out his words between pants.
I pulled him out of the water and onto the dock. A second later and he would’ve drowned. He sat there with his hand covering his face in self loathing. over what? I always though. He was perfect at everything he ever did. Why it still wasn’t good enough, I’ll never know.
“You’re doing fine, Josh. But you have to take a break. If you keep straining yourself like that you’re going to hurt yourself”
“I know” He said in a flat ton kids think the grown ups believe means they’re honest but don’t realize that they know this from being a kid…
I entered the Clinic at the camp and took a seat in the waiting room. The white paint, colorful trim and motivational posters reminded me of the horrors I’d seen at the mental institution I used to work at. The receptionist told me to go to room E and directed me to the room. I went down a hallway to the right of where I sat and down to the third room on the left with an E etched into the wooden door. They had me put on one of those masks people wear at hospitals when seeing a quarantined patient. It was a small room with just enough room for a bed, a dresser and the space to move between the two. Josh was laying on the bed, an I.V. in his left arm and leads to a heart monitor on his right arm.
Josh was asleep so I just sat on the bed next to him. I began to choose the right words to say to Josh when he woke up, I recited them and started over around the forth or fifth word. After what seemed like ten minutes, the doctor came in. his lack of scrubs suggested he was off and called in at the last minute.
“I’m ‘fraid he’s got it” He said in his think southern accent as he wiped his glasses on his Hawaiian shirt
“Poor thing ain’t got more ‘n a few hours left on ‘em” his voice became hushed as he saw Josh start to wake up.
“H9N10, street name, Forest Fever.” The doctor said flatly, strangely, he lost his accent when he said this.
“What should I expect”
“so far every patient ‘as sperienced ‘n extremely high fever, so high, you’d think ‘e’d be dead by then. He’ll start hallucinatin’, by then I suggest ya strap ’em, ’ese things’ll get ugly real fast”
He left without another word. His words glued to my head ‘I suggest ya strap ’em, ’ese things get ugly real fast’. I went back to the bed to comfort Josh.
“Hey, buddy, you awake?”
“Yeah,” he seemed to croak out his words, “what’s wrong with me?”
“it’s the flu” I said. I didn’t want him to know he would die. How do you tell a ten year old boy he’s About to die?
“Will I be able to swim soon?” His eyes were forming tears, I thought he might know he’s dying now.
“Yeah, they gave you the best antibiotics we could get. You’ll be swimming like a fish tomorrow” Tears were involuntarily starting and running down my cheek.
“Good” His words were barley audible and he went back to sleep.
That night I slept on the floor. I woke up around 3AM to screaming. Josh woke in a cold sweat, his whole body blood red as if sun burnt from head to toe. He was still screaming, the screams seemed to become hoarse, yet climbed in pitch and volume until they were deafeningly loud and a pitch so high it seemed to top a siren. After his screaming reached a peak he fell on the floor and went into a sleep so deep my screaming and me putting him back into his bed didn’t wake him.
I took the straps tied to the bed and tied them to his wrists and ankles. Then I went out to sleep on the chairs in the waiting room. The next day I brought him breakfast, bursting into tears when the nurse told me he’d be dead by now. I couldn’t believe he was dead. I stopped when opening the door, I heard what sounded like Josh talking from outside his room. I had to listen again when his voice sounded…weird; that’s the only way to describe what I heard.
The way his words flowed, what seemed like gasps between every word. It reminded me of an exorcism I saw on a TV show, the possessed child was inhaling when talking, it sounded just like Josh did now. I opened the door and found Josh in a corner, blood staining his bed and his hospital gown. He was still talking to the wall(so it seemed) in in unintelligible mutter, inhaling his words.
“J-Josh, I b-brought you s-some breakfast” I said, my voice trembling and stuttering every word
The last thing I remember is that same high pitched scream as he instantaneously turned and pounced at me like a cat…
