Chapter Six
I was so tired, but sleep refused to come. Dead-eyed I stared out the window and watched heavy flakes fall outside. Snow, so much snow. I loved snow. Growing up, my favorite thing to do was take a walk after the snow had fallen. The city felt like it was covered in a thick, soft blanket. Everything was quiet and soft in a way the city never was.
It was one of the reasons I came to Maine. I wanted to live in the country, far from the city. I hadn’t planned on living in an abandoned building, I imagined it would have been nicer if I lived in a real house.
I felt hot and cold all at the same time. My face was burning, but the rest of me was shivering. Every time I drifted off to sleep I would wake myself up with my teeth chattering. My throat was raw and painful, my head was pounding and my entire body ached. Tears slid down my cheeks. I wanted to go home, but I didn’t have one. This little room with its trashcan fire was my only home and I hated it.
Finally, well into the night, I managed to fall asleep. Shivering in my nest of blankets I could see figures in the shadows on the wall. Monsters lurked and jeered at me, threatening me that soon, so soon they would come for me. Faces and figures jumped out at me and I hid under my blanket in the hope that if they couldn’t see me, they couldn’t get me.
Then I heard something, a noise coming from the window. Bleary-eyed I peeked over the blanket. The fire was dead, I didn’t remember closing the window, but it was sealed shut, so I must have.
I squinted, trying to figure out what was happening outside. I saw a flash of tan and then a huge paw was scratching at the window. The lion had found me. It had come looking for me and now it was going to eat me. There was nothing I could do. I was too tired, too sick. The lion would get me.
I watched as the lion managed to open the window. Its huge paws pushed the sill open and it poked its mangy head inside. My eyes weren’t working correctly. One moment it was a man and then the next it was a lion. I would see it moving on all fours and then blink and it was on two legs.
“No,” I moaned. “Leave me alone.” It came out a sob and feebly I brought my hands up to protect my face.
The lion was whispering something in my ear. Soothing, calming words. His giant mouth came down and he gathered me up in it. But he wasn’t eating me. He pushed the blankets aside and helped me sit up.
“Come with me,” I heard him say, but I didn’t know how a lion could talk. I stumbled to my feet as he took me up in his mouth. I felt like a cub carried by her mother. I was on my feet, my hands buried in the lion's mane. But no, we were both up on two feet, it wasn’t a lion, it was a man.
I could barely stand. I could barely walk. The lion was supporting me. We found our way to the door and he kicked the chair aside and opened it. The rest of the building had a creepy desolate feeling. Wires hung from the ceiling, chairs lay scattered over the bare floor. But we didn’t stay long. We moved to the front door and he kicked this open too.
The wind hit me like a ton of bricks. My hair was lifted up off my shoulders. Snow was swirling around us in a fierce gale. I couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of me. The world outside was a frozen hellscape. The snow was already past my ankles as the lion, or maybe it was a man, pulled me towards a waiting car.
The car was running and it was so wonderfully warm inside. I fell into the backseat where a blanket was waiting for me. I stretched out as the lion lifted the blanket over me.
The door slammed closed and for a moment, I was alone in the running car. Then someone got in the front seat and slowly the tires crunched through the snow and the movement rocked me back to sleep.
***
I don’t know how long I was out. I had no memory of leaving the car and no idea where I was. I opened my eyes to soft, yellow sunlight pouring through a huge, ornate window. I wasn’t in my squatter’s home, I was in a real one.
The bed beneath me was impossibly soft. It felt like the mattress had conformed perfectly to my body. The sheets were silky smooth and I felt so wonderfully warm. It took a moment for my eyes to focus. I felt a sharp sting in my left arm and looked down to see an IV leading to a clear bag suspended above my head. I felt better. My throat was still scratchy and I still felt weak, but my headache was gone, my limbs had stopped shaking, the aching was gone.
The room was painted a soft yellow with dark trim. There were long, heavy red curtains on the windows and framed paintings of dogs and horses lined the walls. My bed was large and ornate with a carved headboard.
I felt so warm and comfortable. I was perfectly happy to just lie in this big, soft fluffy bed forever. I didn’t care where I was or who had brought me here. I was too tired to fight anymore. I didn’t yell for help or try to escape, I just closed my eyes and slipped into a pleasant sleep.
I woke up to a cold hand on my warm forehead. I opened my eyes and saw Anton Lev standing over me with a worried look on his face.
Anton Lev, I thought. It was impossible. Why was he here? How did he find me? I tried to sit up, but Anton just shushed me and gently pushed on my shoulder until I was on my back again.
“Just rest,” he said quietly. “Don’t try to move, you’re still very sick.”
“Where am I?” I asked. It came out a hoarse whisper and the act of speaking tore my throat apart.
“You’re at my house,” Anton said as he sat down in a stiff, high-backed chair next to the bed. “I found you last night.”
“How?” I asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said with a shake of his head. “You were half-dead from fever when I found you. Why were you sleeping in that abandoned office?”
I shrugged weakly and said, “Nowhere else to go.”
“I offered to help you,” he said. His dark eyes were staring directly into mine. He ran his hands through his thick beard and then put his elbows on his knees. “Why did you say no? You could have frozen to death last night.”
I didn’t know what to say. I had been so tired and terribly sick as it would turn out. I couldn’t think straight or plan ahead. Anton was waiting for an answer. He stared down at me, but all I could do was shake my head and then look away. I looked over at the IV.
“Who did this?” I asked.
“A doctor came, the family’s personal physician, he saw to you last night. He had to leave to see to some other patients, but he’ll be back later today. If he can get through the snow,” he replied. Outside everything was white, the snow was stilling falling without a break.
“Over two feet so far and they think we might get another,” Anton said as if he could read my mind. “You might be stuck here for a few days. But you don’t need to worry about anything. You’re safe here. No one is going to hurt you.”
My eyes were heavy. They were closing despite my struggle to keep them open. I shouldn’t stay here. I should leave. I didn’t know this man. I had only met him a few times at the bookstore. He could be anyone.
But the bed was so comfortable and I was so warm. Whatever medicine I had been given was doing the trick. I felt monumentally better than I had the night before. I just felt tired, impossibly tired.
He told me to trust him and I wanted to. His eyes were gentle and he had only ever been kind to me. Would it be so impossible for him to actually be a good person who wanted to help me? Maybe there were good people left in the world after all.