Coreopsis 9 – a

    Sarah was drawn away from her book by the sound of gasping. She got up walking over to Orion. He was sweating profusely. From the bathroom, she retrieved a pan of water and a washcloth, kneeling beside of him, gently wiping his face.

   “I’m so cold.” He shivered.

   “You might be running a fever.”

   The door creaked as the porter pushed on it. “Sorry. I just came to see if you needed anything.”

   “Do you have any ice?”

   “Yes,” he whispered.

   “Will you bring me some?”

   “At once.”

   When he returned with the ice, Orion started shaking and groaning. The porter bent over near them pouring the ice in the pan. 

   “Will you bring me some more?”

   Orion could no longer conceal his gasping.

   “At once.”

   The porter returned with more ice. “Is he going to throw up now?” The porter asked with great concern.

   “Not yet.”

   “I know this is not my place and forgive me for speaking out of turn but I have watched junkies on the street act like that.” 

   “As have I,” She thought that was strange, junkies indeed. “Go,” she encouraged. “I know the prince would be unhappy if you were in here when he is at his sickest. And thank you.” Her voice was kind and thoughtful.

   “Will you be okay?”

   “Yes, I will call if I need you.”

   “I will be right outside the door.”

   Orion had calmed down for the moment. She wiped his face again. He moaned.

   The train jerked into motion. The sudden jolt knocked her backwards. As she caught herself, he violently raised up, just sitting on the seat. His eyes rolled backwards in their sockets. He pitched forward falling to the floor, on top of her. To her, he sounded like a cat trying to dislodge a hairball. She was too shocked to move. Suddenly, he threw up all over her. It was one small piece of chicken, two drinks of water and a stomach full of acid.

   She got back to her knees, grabbing the blanket from around him to cover herself. She slid her left hand on his abdomen. Not only could she feel him quiver, but she could count all of his ribs. With each quivering motion, he hissed. The quivers turned into convulsions. He would conceal the groans best he could. They became so rapid that he could no longer hide his pain. She put her right hand on his shoulder.

   He screamed.

   “Orion?”

   He tried to raise up, instead fell. His head fell on her chest. He continued to gag. She took her arm and slid it across his chest. The speed of the convulsions quickened. His head wobbled backwards. She got a good look at his face. It was rittled with pain. His mouth was an open vortex filled with inhuman noises.

   He tried to speak but couldn’t. A scream escaped from him as the convulsions enveloped his entire body. His breath caught in his lungs; they burned. 

   In an instant he passed out. His lifeless body fell like a sack of clay in her arms. 

   “Orion,” she tried to shake him.

   She couldn’t move him and panic struck her, crying out for help. The porter burst through the door. 

   “Help me. I can’t move him.”

   With his help, they put Orion back on the seat and covered him up.

   “Are you okay?”

   “I’m fine.” She tried to smile. “A little wet.” 

   The porter lifted the window, “are you close to him?” She asked.

   “No one is close to him my lady except his son; why ask?”

   “I was going to ask you to help me clean him up.”

   “I will help you.”

   “If he gets upset over your assistance, direct his attention toward me.”

   “I would not presume to do so.”

   It took them the better part of an hour to clean up Orion’s mess.