Words of Love

chapter NINE



Jessica woke to see Brett looking down at her.

“Welcome back,” he said quietly.

Welcome back? From where?

She glanced around at the white netting and the green canvas. She could distinctly hear the rain at the cave entrance.

Weren’t we in the temple?

Confused, she looked back to his face, which was upset.

“You passed out,” he said. She tried to sit up. “Just hold on,” he said, with a hand on her arm. “Just take it easy for a minute.” Reluctantly, she lay back down. “Do you remember what happened?”

She tried.

They’d been in the temple. She’d read the love poem. And–she searched his face–they’d made love on the altar. Then the room had started to spin.

“I got dizzy,” she finally said, as though she were admitting defeat.

“Dizzy?” he said, his eyebrows knitting together. He took one of her hands in his. “What do you mean dizzy?”

“The room started to spin,” she said. He looked at her, waited for her to continue. “That’s all I remember,” she said. “Then I was here.”

He frowned.

“Is that something that’s happened to you before?” She looked away. “Jessica,” he said, a warning tone in his voice. “This could be serious. I need to know what’s going on.” He put a hand to her face and made her look at him. “What else?” he said, looking her directly in the eyes.

“This morning,” she said. “When I first got up, everything started to spin but it stopped right away.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” She was silent. “I see,” he said, his jaw muscles working. “You’re going to carry your own suitcase. You’re going to keep the fact that you’re not feeling well a secret.” He paused and took a deep breath. “You know, it’s okay if you don’t do well in the field. Not everyone is cut out for–”

“But I am cut out for the field,” she blurted out. He stopped and stared at her, a bit set back by the tone in her voice. “I just have to get used to it is all.”

“Jessica,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” she said, sitting up. “This is something I’ve always dreamed of. I’ve never felt so…” She didn’t know how to put it. “So needed,” she concluded. “Like I fit. Finally, somewhere, I feel like I fit.”

Unbidden, the name the other children called her sounded in her ears: Jittery Jessica. The fits of reading new languages, the way her hands floated over the text–it had begun when she was young. She’d learned long ago to stop reading and translating in front of people. She felt her face flush hot.

Brett smiled at her.

“You do fit,” he said. “And you are needed.” He took her hand in both of his. “I need you,” he said, looking down at their hands and then into her eyes. “But I need you to be honest about how you’re feeling. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong.” She was about to protest but he cut her off. “And two dizzy spells, and then passing out, that’s wrong.” She closed her mouth, took in a deep breath, and slowly exhaled. “Is there anything else?” he asked. “Any other symptoms?”

“No,” she said. He waited and tilted his head at her. “Seriously,” she said. “No. That’s it.”

He nodded a little.

“Okay, dizziness, vomiting, and a lack of appetite,” he said, like a laundry list.

“But–”

“No buts. They might not be related or they might.” He thought for a few moments, looking at the floor. “You already told me what you ate in Santa Elena and that was all right. And you’re on an antimalarial,” he said, and then he paused. “Which one?” he asked. “Which antimalarial are you taking?”

“Doxycycline,” she replied.

“Okay, right,” he said nodding quickly. “That could definitely be it. The side effects are nausea, vomiting, and dizziness. It could be worse.” Suddenly, he stopped. “You’re sure that’s it, right?”

“Yes,” she said definitively. “That’s it.” He turned a fake scowl on her that made her laugh a little. “I swear,” she said. “That’s it.”

“Okay,” he said, smiling as he took a deep breath. “Side effects, then. That’s the good news.” He squeezed her hand. “The bad news?” She waited and he actually became serious again. “There’s nothing we can do about it,” he said, as he glanced toward the cave entrance. “We’re not going anywhere until that monsoon passes and then it’ll be a matter of going back to Guatemala City.”

“No!” she said.

Guatemala City was across the country. If they went there, it’d take days.

“Nope,” he said shaking his head. “There’s no real medical care out here. It has to be Guatemala City.” Again she started to protest and he interrupted her. “No arguments, Jesse.”

She blinked at the first time he’d used her nickname.

“Call it a Principal Investigator decision,” he said, smiling. “And that would be me.” Then his smile faded a bit. “Because you do fit and I do need you. And I have to know you’ll be all right. The doctors in the capital will hopefully be able to confirm that it’s nothing more than side effects. But you can’t switch drugs mid-stream. If they can’t do anything for the side effects, then…”

He didn’t need to finish the sentence. She knew. If the dizzy spells continued, she’d have to go home.

Finally, she nodded.

“When the rain is over, then,” he said.

Although she couldn’t see the cave entrance, she looked that way anyway.

All of a sudden, she wished the rain would never stop.