Little Angel
1405 Words
Chapter 10
Little Angel
I spun around as Stacey emerged from her room across the hallway. Her mousy-brown hair was knotted around her tiny pale face. Her once bright and glowing skin was pale and sickly. Her eyes were puffy, and there was something odd about the way she was favouring the right side of her head.
“Sissy, help me.” Stacey cried. She coughed and collapsed to her knees.
“Stacey, oh baby, Stacey...” I rushed to her side and pulled her onto my lap.
Her tiny body trembled. The heat radiating from her was scorching against my skin. Sweat had soaked through her nighty, leaving a crown of damp hair across her forehead. She favoured the right side of her head again.
“Baby Stacey... Sissy, you don’t feel right…”
I held her fevered head against my chest the way Mum did when I was ill. Every breath she took made her chest rattle. “I’ll get Mum, Sissy, alright?”
She nodded, burying her face deeper into my hair.
I held my hands over her delicate ears and shouted, “Mum, Mum, it’s an emergency. Get help quick!”
Stacey cried and squirmed against me. The side of her head against my chest was abnormally large. Had she hit her head in her sleep?
“It’s going to be alright. I’m here.” I soothed, brushing her hair away from her red and puffy face. “Mum’s on her way. I promise.”
Footsteps thundered up the stairs. Mum’s head rose into view. “What... What’s wrong?” The second she saw Stacey, curled up on my lap, she ran over and scooped her tiny body into her arms. “Oh, God... Stacey!”
Stacey’s arms were dotted with beads of sweat, and the skin on her once chubby face was stretched tight over her cheekbones in a sickly grimace. I had never seen her so ill.
“Listen to me,” Mum ordered. Her words trembled as she spoke. I need you to grab two of everything from Stacey’s room and pack it all in a bag. I’m going to cool her down in the shower and then take her to the hospital. There’s no way this is a typical virus. She’s burning up.”
“Alright...”
“Do it quickly, then meet me outside…”
I dashed to Stacey’s room and threw open the door, only to be overwhelmed by the nauseating smell of vomit mixed with Vicks and urine.
“Oh, gross,” I winced, holding my nose.
Quickly, I skipped over the vomit on the rug and yanked open the tallboy drawers. As Mum had asked, I packed everything into a bag and sprinted out the door, grabbing Stacey’s favourite teddy off the bed on the way through.
Never had I raced so fast through the hallway and down the stairs. The hum of my pulse drummed in my ears. Expecting them to be outside already, I burst through the front door and hurried across the veranda, but they were nowhere in sight.
“Mum?” I called.
A black shape flickered through the shrubbery growing over the front fence. Uncle Malcolm’s black BMW turned in through our weathered gate and rustled down the gravel driveway. He parked behind the Holden wagon and then waved to me.
It's just great! I raised my hand in reply and shouted back through the door, “Mum, where are you?”
Valery climbed from the passenger side, her sunglasses balancing on the end of her nose. “Oh, goodness, how much you have grown in a month! I cannot believe it!” She turned to Malcolm, her blonde hair cascading over her face. “Do you agree, Mal? Oh my, she is beautiful... look at her.”
As usual, her tone was ignorant, the complete opposite of the relaxed way people talked around the town. She held her head similarly—snooty, with an, I’m better than you air about her. She wore a capped-sleeved floral, knee-length dress that made her appear ten years older than Mum instead of ten years younger. It was warm weather, yet she insisted on wearing a tasselled scarf. Bracelets tingled down the slender arms, matching the dangling earrings that brushed against her shoulders.
Valery studied me from across the driveway, shut her door and started towards me, her dainty heels clicking against the gravel. “Lucy, is everything okay? You look worried.”
She reached for my face. I pulled away. “Stacey’s sick, really sick. Mum’s getting ready to take her to the hospital. I’m waiting for her.”
“Where are they?” Valery asked, peering at the front door. “How bad is Stacey?”
Before I could answer, Mum raced through the door with Stacey wrapped in a towel in her arms. “Val, Stacey needs to go to the hospital right now!”
Mum was crying. It frightened me. Stacey’s limp feet wobbled at the end of the towel, and my heart died a little.
“Is she unconscious?” I asked, fighting back the onslaught of tears.
Mum nodded at me but didn’t answer.
Malcolm leant out his window, and streaks of brown glowed in his hair. “I will take you, Kaleen.” He spoke in a tone similar to Valery’s, pronouncing words clearly, but it didn’t annoy me as much.
“Yes, perfect.” Valery pulled open the door and ushered Mum inside.
Mum climbed in with Stacey on her lap, her wet hair bobbing listlessly.
“Sissy,” I choked back on my tears. “My little Sissy.”
“Lucy, bag, quick,” Mum ordered.
I didn’t move. I couldn’t feel my legs.
“Here,” Valery said, snatching it from my grasp and tucking it by Mum’s feet. “Everything is set, Mal... Now go!” She shut the door and tapped the roof of the car.
As the car drove down the road, I held myself, fighting back the tremors that had taken over.
Valery stood at my side; concern etched into the fair features on her face. She held her arms open for me. “It will be okay, Lucy… Try not to worry too much. Such stress is not good for you or your complexion.”
“What?” Scowling at her, I stepped away. “Of course, I’m worried. That’s my baby sister, unconscious in Mum’s arms! I couldn’t care less about my complexion!”
“Oh, sweetheart, try not to talk that way...” She moved toward me. Again, I backed away.
When she realised my attempt to evade her advance, she paused and hung her head. “I want to help you. Please. We can do something together. Get your mind off this situation until we know what’s happening.”
Her smile seemed intimidating rather than sweet. I hated her! I didn’t want her around any longer.
“No, Valery, I don’t want to do anything with you.” I spat viciously. “I–I don't need your help!”
Valery brushed her fringe from her wide eyes, eying me with an expression I guess was her version of pity. “Please let me do something... We could talk if you prefer.”
“No, I don’t want to talk to you. I want Stacey home!” Unable to control my tears, I turned my back to her and leapt up the veranda stairs. “I didn’t want you here in the first place. Leave me alone. I need to—to call Dean. He needs to know.”
Upstairs, I curled up on Dean’s comfortable bed. I fumbled with the phone to call him. My blurred vision made it difficult to know if I had dialled the correct number until I heard his voice.
“Hey, Mum, what’s up?” he answered. His tone deepened when he heard my sobs. “Mum, are you crying? What’s wrong?”
“D–Dean, it’s Lucy. Please come home. It’s S–Stacey.”
“What happened? Tell me.”
“I don't know. Mum rushed her t–to the hospital. Please come home.”
“Okay, Lucy lady, hold tight. I’ll be straight home.” He hung up.
I found myself crying into his pillow. The image of Stacey’s pale body cut down to my very soul. My poor baby Sissy.
- Writer
