Tombstone; D.H.

CHAPTER THREE

Announcement: I'm sorry this chapter is so short and terrible. Hope yall enjoy!

Doc began to feebly spoon some beef broth into his mouth. Once he swallowed the first two or three spoonfuls, he ate quicker in a way that told me he hadn't eaten in a while.
"I'll let you eat your supper in peace. I'll be back in a while to set you up on the balcony," I spoke, rising from the edge of Doc's bed.
Doc said nothing in reply, too engrossed in his meal. I left the room, darting to my room across the hallway. For the first time in nearly 12 or so hours, I let myself relax. My mind ached nearly as much as my body as I began to slowly unpack my things. After getting squared away, I changed clothes into my modest shift of a nightgown with my dark green knitted sweater around my shoulders. I pulled the last item from my beaten and battered suitcase; a framed picture of my mother Nellie. Ever so gently, I placed it on the vanity, where I sat and brushed my hair and fastened it with pins in a fresh French braid. Once I was finished, I lit the lantern from the mantle above the fireplace and returned to Doc's room.

"Mr. Holliday?" I called, softly knocking on the door.
I waited a moment but he didn't come to the door, and no sounds were made. He couldn't have fallen asleep could he? ...
As my mind reeled, my stomach clenched uncomfortably. I tried turning the handle, but the door had been locked from the inside.
"He's trying to keep me out...that's it," I told myself.
I carefully set the lantern on the floor beside me. Removing a pin from my hair, I jammed it into the keyhole and maneuvered it until a cacophony of  crunching metal sounded, and the door cracked open.
"Doc, it's Joanna," I said, straightening up and pushing the door open further. However, my patient was no where to be found...
I glanced over at the balcony to see if perhaps he'd followed my instructions of sleeping outside at night.
"Of course not," I sighed, but my concern increased.
I turned my head to the bathroom and saw Doc hunched over the basin, clutching to it to hold himself upright.
"Doc? Did you finish-"
Just then, he coughed horribly into the sink, splattering it with a horrendous amount of blood and a few bits of what appeared to be tissue. I rushed to his side just as he began to fall backward.
"Come on, Doc, let's get you to the bed," I spoke as I draped his left arm around my shoulders, my right arm holding tightly around his midsection. He moved his legs uncoordinatedly, but managed to get to the bed.
"Doc?" I asked loudly as he fell backwards onto the pillows, "Can you hear me?"

His body began to convulse, his eyes rolling backward until he was passed out. Working quickly, I felt his wrist for signs of life. Although weak and thready, he was still alive. He breathed in choppy breaths of air every so often. As quickly as I could manage, I began to set up the cot on the balcony. What seemed like hours was a few minutes later, and I hoisted Doc up and moved him to the cot. He was so light and fragile, I easily laid him down gently. Wasting no time, I grabbed every pillow from his bed and placed them beneath his head to prop him up, then fetched his top blanked and tucked it in around his body, leaving only his face exposed to the air. I stood and watched him breathe every few seconds, worried it would cease at any moment. Given his current condition, I knew it probably wouldn't be long until he passed. I pulled myself away to scurry to my room. While there, I grabbed my own blanket and my shotgun, then returned to the balcony with haste. Setting my blanket upon and propping my weapon up against the balcony railing, I took the chair from Doc's vanity and set it beside his cot, where I sat, endlessly watching his chest rise and fall.