The Timekeeper's Watch

Chapter Seven - The Infirmary

Thom wanted to make sure Artie was alright before he left.

The ginger haired boy had been taken to the infirmary by Professor Markey and Wiley with Neaka and himself glumly following along. The school nurse Mrs. Gershome pursed her lips at his arrival, as Professor Markey lay Artie down on one of the crisp, white-sheet covered oak beds, his head flopping across the pillow with unconsciousness. Nurse Gershome gave an audible tsk and said, 'What's happened to this boy?'

Thom noted a quick glance shoot between Professor Wiley and Markey, a tiny shake of the head barely perceptible. Professor Markey cleared his throat and said, 'The boy had a faint out in the yard. All the commotion, I guess.'

'Why is he wet?' the nurse raised a single brow.

'The kids threw water on him,' Professor Wiley said quickly, 'to try to wake him up.' She gave a laugh in conclusion as if that summed it up, then reached over and took Professor Markey by the arm. 'We'd better go chase those kids up. Thank you, Mrs. Gershome.'

The nurse watched them go quietly before turning her gaze to Thom and Neaka. She looked down at their wet clothes curiously but didn't say a word. 'Well, alright then...'

Thom waited while the nurse checked Artie over. She checked his radial pulse and inspected his Watchface in a quick, practiced motion then lifted his eyelids casually to inspect his pupils.

'You kids need to go now. I need to get him out of these wet clothes,' said Mrs. Gershome, before adding, 'He'll be alright now. Go along.' She crossed the room and came back a moment later with a stethoscope and temperature probe, the latter of which she promptly stuck into Artie's mouth.

Thom noted that Artie's colour had improved and his cheeks now held a trademark pink stain over his lightly freckled skin. He sighed a breath and turned to leave as Mrs. Gershome placed the diaphragm of her stethoscope against Artie's chest. Thom saw the slow rhythmic rise and fall of his friend's chest. Nurse Gershome saw him watching at the door and waved a hand to shoo him.

Thom had always liked the older lady. She was married to Professor Gershome, who taught Contemporary and Historical Art studies. They had moved from Sanctuary House in South Africa during Thom's first year at Norwood House. Her clipped south African accent always somehow made Thom feel better. She always knew what to do with student's placed in her infirmary, no matter the situation.

He himself had little exposure to the infirmary in the last few years, not one to be very injury prone. But he had accompanied Artie many times.

There was the time Artie tripped down two flights of stairs in first year, or the time Artie got a concussion from a five-kilogram book falling on his head from the top shelf in the library stacks, or even the time Artie got a black eye from the doorknob in chemistry class. Each time Thom had visited the infirmary with Artie to make sure he was okay. He took a last look at his friend now, his lanky frame nearly filling the length of the bed, before turning and leaving.

This was by far the worst time.

Neaka waited for him in the corridor. 'Are you alright?'

She stood in an almost unsure manner. Thom had never seen that look on her before. He couldn't quite place it. He stepped closer to her, noting her clothes were only now half wet, but were still plastered to her skin stiffly. He had a sudden urge to reach across the space and touch her arm. He wanted to know if it was cold or warm beneath his fingers.

'I should be asking you that. You need to change out of those wet clothes,' he said instead.

She frowned and looked down, as if she'd forgotten. 'We both do.'

'Do you have a change of clothes?' he added.

Thom stepped closer to her as a pair of students passed by, eyeing them suspiciously. Now that he was even closer, he saw the light blue of her eyes, cold and clear like thawed ice. They watched him without expression. The seawater had caused her short hair to dry in tighter curls than her normal loose waves. A light scent of salt drifted off her skin.

'No, but I'm done with classes. I can go home and change. What about you? Do you have to ride the tram all the way home in those wet clothes?' said Neaka, ruffling her nose at the thought.

He shrugged a shoulder and sighed. 'It's no bother. It won't be the worst thing to happen today.'

Her hard eyes seemed to soften, if only for a moment. 'No, I suppose it wouldn't.'

They stood in silence for a moment before Thom cleared his throat and said, 'Thank you, Neaka.'

She continued to watch him with those eyes. A shiver went over Thom's arms, and it wasn't because of the wet clothes.

'What for?'

'I kind of lost it out there,' he said. 'You held me back. Tried to talk sense into me. If it wasn't for you... I don't know what would have happened. To Artie. To me.'

She reached over and took his hand and gave it a squeeze. Her palm was warm with heat. He looked down at her small hand in his, before she withdrew it all too quickly.

'You should be getting on. Don't you need to see Professor Lutwyche?' said Neaka, glancing around her.

Thom blinked and seemed to come to attention. 'Yeah... no, I do.'

'I'd better be off, too. Can't stand around all day wet, can we?' she gave a laugh that sounded odd to Thom. It sounded off from the confident, musical one he'd previously heard. She gave him one last half-smile then turned on her heel and was off down the corridor.

Thom watched her go, sighing a deep steadying breath as he leaned his shoulder against the wooden, slatted wall in exhaustion. He wiped his hands roughly over his face a few times, trying without success to clear the day's frustrations from his mind.

His best friend lay in an infirmary bed, again, and this girl was fast becoming... what, exactly? Thom wasn't sure. She seemed to be around him a lot lately. Perhaps it was just coincidence, Thom thought. It wasn't a big school, after all.

He put it out of his mind for now. He had a more pressing issue, one that he didn't even know how to define. He thought back to Lutwyche's expression outside earlier. What had the old man seen exactly that made him look at Thom like that... he certainly wasn't going to find out standing here in the corridor.

Thom pushed off the wall and headed for Lutwyche's office.