Decoration Day by Vic Kerry

think it’s making things worse. He needs to be with us on Sunday.”
    David heard Ebenezer rattling in his bag. The old man held a plastic bottle up to his face to show him the medicine. David read the white block letters clearly: Tylenol . It was the first thing he’d recognized the whole time, and even in his fever stupor, he felt relief.
    “This will break the fever yet.” Ebenezer opened it and put the bottle to David’s lips. “Drink until I tell you to stop.”
    “Don’t give him too much,” Marsh said.
    “Let me be the doctor, Alistair.”
    The artificial cherry flavor filled up David’s mouth. The bitter undertone of medicine lingered after he swallowed. By the time Ebenezer removed the bottle from his lips, a quarter of the liquid had gone into him.
    “You’ll feel better soon,” Ebenezer said. “Sleep now and let the medicine work.”
    David agreed. He felt too sick and tired to argue. A sleep void of any dreams would be welcome. He began to snore but wasn’t fully asleep yet.
    “We have to do something else to stop it from completely taking him before time,” Ebenezer said. “What about some kind of religious talisman?”
    “I found a cross around his neck before you got here,” Marsh said on the other side of David’s closed lids. “That wasn’t keeping it away.”
    “What about one its symbols?” Ebenezer suggested.
    A fist rapped on the headboard above David’s head. He almost opened his eyes, but exhaustion kept him completely still. His hearing began to go in and out as sleep overwhelmed him.
    “The bed has one carved into it,” Marsh said. “I believe it protects me. Let’s hope it does the same for him.”
    David heard nothing else of their conversation despite his efforts to hear more. Either exhaustion or the liquid Tylenol put him into a deep sleep.

Saturday
    David walked beside Marsh, who held a large black umbrella over both of them. The rain pattered on the nylon material as they walked on the brick paths through the flower garden. Of everything in the whole town, David thought this place looked the most vibrant and fresh. Nothing of the stale dustiness of the town stayed in this place. Every single plant popped with color as if they had been colorized from some old black-and-white movie. He thought that might be exactly what it was. David knew he wasn’t in a movie, but supposedly humans dreamed in black and white. Perhaps everything from the last week was a lengthy nightmare that fought to be in color. Only the flowers and the strange purple glow made the most of the toehold color took in his dream.
    “I am sorry for walking in the rain,” Marsh said. “Ebenezer said that you need to get fresh air to help you convalesce. If that fever is something more than just the aggravation of your concussion, I fear that this dampness will make things worse.”
    David looked back from one of the bright orange lilies blooming along the path. “I welcome the air. It feels good even if damp. Come to think of it, everything always seems damp around here. Why does it rain so much?”
    “The geological nature of this valley,” Marsh answered. “Supposedly cold water springs underlie this whole place. The creek in the center of town just bubbles up from the ground a few yards from the base of the mountain. Hot downdrafts cause all the moisture when they encounter that cold water.”
    “So does it rain this much in the winter?”
    “I don’t know.”
    David stopped walking. Marsh continued a few steps, allowing the umbrella to quit shielding David from the rain. He walked back, covering them both again.
    “How do you mean you don’t know? Where do you go in the winter?”
    “I go nowhere in the winter,” Marsh said.
    “Then why don’t you know if it rains a lot?” David pressed.
    “I wasn’t listening to your question when you first asked it. I was hopelessly lost in other thoughts. Yes, it rains just as much in the wintertime.”
    “Where were your thoughts,