When the Earth Tilts

XXIII

In my state, I began to wonder if time or my life melted faster.

I had found Dream Boy, Dalton, but it didn't feel like a victory. It felt like a loss.

I had no clue who he was, as I figured out as he carried my useless, bleeding, crumbled body to a campsite, "UHQ" as he called it.

He saved my life twice, was third time the charm? I had a vague image of him in my head, the light in the dark in that nightmare. Was that just some fever dream?

He ran me to his camp, he either didn't hear my protesting groans or ignored them. My naturally pessimistic mind fluttered to the latter.

I felt myself being released from Dalton's arms and onto a soft surface. Anything soft was foreign to me, my body being used to the harsh wilds. My back arched against it, groaning. My eyes were to heavy to lift, I was unable to examine my surroundings.

I heard a shocked gasp followed by a hot feeling on my ankle.

"Dalton!" Came the voice that had gasped.

"Watch where you swing you coffee around!" Dalton called. I felt a hand on my ankle, the palm callused yet soft. It wiped away the hot feeling.

"I'm sorry, but... Who the hell is this?!"

"I think it's Caden Bellroy..."

"Who?"

"The guy I was telling you and Neve about, Russell's boyfriend or whatever they were."

"I thought you said his name was Calvin?"

"Caden," Dalton repeated tensely. "But Calvin is hilarious, please call him that when he wakes up."

This asshole.

The woman tutted, "Dalton, I don't think Caden's going to wake up."

"What?!"

I was fighting blacking out. My spotted vision was growing dimmer and thinner.

"You sound surprised," The woman said, confused. "Are we looking at the same guy? I can barely even see him he's bleeding so bad. He's covered in bites, and he's as thin as paper! He's so malnourished he looks like a zombie."

"Ramona," Dalton sounded pathetically desperate. "You have to do something. I won't let him die."

"I'm not a miracle worker, Dalton!" The woman, Ramona, said.

"If he dies, Ramona," Dalton said, his voice deep with tension. "I will leave The Uncles and I will never, ever, come back."

_____

My consciousness stirred.

"Mom, we have to."

"Ramona, it's helpless!" A more worn, molasses voice came to the air. "This boy is going to die!"

"We have to try!" Came Ramona's voice, "We can't lose Dalton!"

"This is just preventing the inevitable," The mother's voice sounded infinitely tired, but constrained. As if there were a billion stories on her lips that she has to fight to keep from being released.

"Well, whatever happens," Ramona sighed, "We're wasting time. Let's get a move on!"

"Ramona, we do not have the supplies!!"

The unconsciousness settled in again.

_____

RAMONA

My hand hovered near Caden's face, his eyelids were stubbornly closed, he was still bleeding and Mom and I were still frantic.

Mom, her unsettled hair like a grey-white fern, but longer and more free, was constantly switching out bandages for cleaner ones and  pouring buckets of water and food into Caden, but it was of no use. I had known it since I'd lain eyes on the boy.