the ISLE

More Trouble

Nuri stayed by her husband's side all day, cooling his skin with water, dripping little amounts into his mouth to quench his burning thirst. Skin flushed red, slick sweat coated his body as the fever took hold, and in his delirium, he tossed and turned, moaning and calling out softly, the same word over and over. The five claw marks began to swell before Jati returned, and Nuri worked steadily to keep them clean and cool, free from infection. They were dark purple when Jati appeared at the entrance and she ran to him, taking the plants he offered.

"I gathered as many as I could find, Nuri," he was panting slightly and leaned against the cave wall for support. "I am no Healer, so I hope they are what you need."

"Sambiloto to fight disease," she was eagerly looking them over. "Badang, brotowali, and adas reducing fever and promoting healing, you did well!"

"I do not speak the tongue of Jack's people, Nuri," at his tone she glanced up, then shrugged sheepishly.

"I am sorry. Thank you, Jati. These are exactly what I hoped for."

"Will you teach me?" He asked, watching as she hurried back to Jack, kneeling at his side. Her glance was distracted.

"What?"

"His words." She didn't answer him. Jati wasn't even certain she'd heard.

Setting aside what she was not going to use immediately, Nuri crushed and rolled fresh leaves in her hands, letting the natural oils form a paste she applied directly to the stitching. Gently working the remedy into the flesh, she winced as Jack groaned under her touch, his head jerking. Hot tea came next, but the wounded man sputtered and coughed at the warm liquid, most of it spilled across his chest and bedding. Wiping him clean, she stood and backed away, despair written on her face. Jati noticed her expression from where he sat at the fire cooking fish.

"Nuri?" He did not like the look in her eyes when she turned to him.

"He is not going to live, Jati. He is not strong enough, he cannot fight the fever, there is nothing I can do..." her voice broke as she began to tremble, sinking to her knees. "There is nothing else I can do."

"Do not lose hope, Nuri. As long as he breathes, there is hope. Here," he handed her a bowl of seasoned fish broth. "See if he will take this."

The hours spent at his side were long as Jack Lantern clung tenuously to life, unaware of his surroundings, his body consumed by raging fevers and racking chills. Days and nights passed in a seamless blur, while Nuri never left him, nursing him every moment. It fell on Jati to provide food, water, and fresh healing plants. Occasionally he fought with Nuri about her needing sleep, but always her fierce desire to help her husband overrode him.

"If you set sick, he dies, Nuri." He finally said it bluntly, and she stared at him for a long moment before slowly nodding.

"I know you are right, but I am frightened. I cannot leave him."

"I will watch over Jack. If there is any change, I will wake you."

Crawling reluctantly to a separate bed, she sank into it and was asleep almost immediately. The young man passed the time carving wooden bowls and plates from softwood that grew in the jungle. Frequently, he would pray for Jack's recovery, wanting to repay the large debt owed to the man who spared his life, and who gave him a family. Once, Jack's eyes opened, but they were wild with sickness, glassy, with no recognition in them. It was not long before they closed again and Jati felt an icy shiver. What if Nuri was right?