The Last Invasion
Chapter Eleven
Grace was dreaming. Her dreams couldn’t be called night mares but were permeated with the anxiety of her dire situation. Metty was dying in her arms. This affected her entire astral wandering. What to do? What to do? How could she save this dear being who was slipping from this world? Should she even try? Everyone has to die and maybe this is Metty’s hour for God to take her. All that dirty rain water they’d been drinking. She no longer had the strength to boil it and filter it like she did before. So, they just drank it. The alternative was dehydration and that was not only Metty’s problem but her problem also and Brice’s problem too because it made them throw up so much and gave them diarrhea.
Why is it that the others seem to be doing okay? They drink the same water. Grace dreamed of fresh water. She was drenched in it. Swimming through it. Crystal water pouring over rocks into a clear stream. Living water. Breathing water. Laughing water. Underneath was life swimming happily. Taking in constant nourishment. She felt like she was in it but not able to partake of it. What to do? She crawled up on the river bank and just sat fully drenched in the sun. She saw some trout go by and wanted to go with them but had no fins and was worn out. She heard a voice behind her and turned her head. It was Martin. “Grace, I didn’t expect you to be here. Why aren’t you at the group-home? I heard that you were. I came here for a drink."
“I did too Marty but I don’t have any.”
“But, Grace, its right here all around you. You just don’t see it. Let’s me find it for you and show it to you so you can see it.”
Martin went away and she could see him no more. You said it was here. Where is it? Where are you Martin? “Over there.” She heard Marty’s voice as if it was a thousand miles away. “Over there.”
“Where?” Grace looked around. She didn’t see anything. After a while, she gave up and just walked up the hill. She kept walking. Higher and higher she went. Then the hill turned into a steep mountain. She climbed. Why am I climbing, she thought. She came to a rocky cliff that went straight up. She knew she had to climb it. Why? I don’t know. She started up the cliff by carefully holding on to one rock outcropping and then another. She did not look down. She was so tired. She felt sick to her stomach. She had to climb though. On and on she climbed. It seemed like forever. Some unknown kind of bird circled her. Then it went up to the very top of the cliff and disappeared. Up through the clouds she climbed. Why am I climbing? She didn’t know. She only knew that she must climb. Then she was at the top laying on her stomach exhausted. The bird was circling once again. When she rolled over, the sun was in her eyes. She struggled to her feet and walked a little. She was so tired that she sat down on a rock with her head in her hands. "O my Jesus. O my Lord Jesus." She saw something reflecting the sunlight not too far in front of her. She got up and walked to it. And there, right in front of her clear as a bell, stacked up in two rows were eight cases of quart sized Canada Dry Ginger Ale.
She gasped and woke up.
“Director Simmons, director Simmons!”
“What is it Grace?”
“How are you?”
“Not too good,” he said weakly from his cot, “but I feel a bit stronger and I think that perhaps my fever is a little lower. I got good sleep. But I still feel awful sick. I guess the four guys aren’t awake yet?”
“Director Simmons, is there a ladder?”
“A ladder? What on earth do you need a ladder for? Grace, do you have a fever?”
“No. I don’t think so.”
Brice slowly got up off his cot and made his way over to her and felt her forehead. “You’re a little warm but I don’t think it’s a high fever.”
“Director Simmons, I need a ladder.”
“What for, Grace?”
“I need to get something.”
“From where hon?”
“I... I’m not sure.”
“You must have had a dream. You don’t need a ladder.”
“Yes I do. I do.”
“Well... Grace... you are sounding like you are completely delirious. Really hon.”
“I know. I know. But Director Simmons, I really need that ladder.”
“Grace, I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I but I need it.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Up. I have to go up.”
“What’s up?”
“Ginger ale.”
“Ginger ale? Grace you are delirious.”
“No. It’s up.” She motioned toward the ceiling with her hand.
“Up? What’s up? Grace, I don’t know of anything that’s up. Why, this house doesn’t even have an attic.”
“Ginger ale. It’s up.”
“How do you know that?”
“Martin told me.”
“Grace, Martin is not here. You had a dream hon.”
“Yes. It was a dream but I need a ladder.”
Grace sat up and realized that Metty had messed herself so she threw a bedspread over the couch first and then laid Metty down where she had been laying. Metty groaned. She looked so terrible. “I’ll change you in a minute sweetheart.” Grace kissed her on the forehead. “I’ve got to look for a ladder.”
Brice shook his head and stumbled back over to his cot and laid back down. “Grace, you are worrying me.”
“No need Director Simmons. I’ll be back in a minute. Do we have a ladder?”
“I really don’t know Grace. I... I’ve never used one here. I’ve never seen one that I remember. There is an outside ladder."
“Where is it?”
“Grace if you are thinking of bringing that thing inside forget it. It’s twenty feet tall.”
“It won’t fit. I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Oh my. If you go upstairs stay low and be careful. Grace, I’ll change Metty!” he yelled so she could hear him.
“Okay.”
Brice got back up and started looking for a clean diaper and some wipes.
In a couple of minutes Brice heard Grace’s muffled voice. “I found one!”
“Where!?”
“Way back against the wall in the storage room. I’m getting it out.”
“Be careful Grace! I’ll come help you!”
“No. Change Metty. I’ll get it.”
“Okay.”
Brice could hear Grace dragging the ladder and setting it down. Then she was moving all around the house upstairs opening and closing door. “What are you doing Grace!?”
“I’m looking.”
“Okay, okay,” he barely whispered.
Changing Metty’s diaper was no easy job. Very messy. Brice was glad he had plenty of wipes. It’s like changing a very big baby, he thought, but she’s forty five years old... this poor thing. No doctor. She’s so sick... her sister must be frantic by now. Who knows what situation her sister might be in. “My God,” Brice barely whispered under his breath so no one could hear, “we don’t know anything. Nothing, and we’ve been here for six weeks. Six weeks. I don’t know what I’ll do if Metty... she’s in our care. We are responsible for her. Her sister and the rest of her family are depending on us... we must... we must... get out of this... somehow... Oh dear God, please help us. Please help this dear sick woman... I just don’t know what to do.”
Chapter Twelve
Chp. 1 : Chp. 2 : Chp. 3 : Chp. 4 : Chp. 5 : Chp. 6 : Chp. 7 : Chp. 8 : Chp. 9 : Chp. 10 :
Chp. 11 : Chp. 12 : Chp. 13 : Chp. 14 : Chp. 15 : Chp. 16 : Chp. 17 : Chp. 18 : Chp. 19 :
