"I'm on my way home now. Get him some cold water, as quick as you can. And if you have something you can make wet, put it on his head to cool him down."
"Yes, okay. See you, soon." The phone went dead.
I squatted in front if Isaia and watched him drink. I reached into the lion's head fountain and pressed my wet hand against Isaia’s forehead. Through all of this he barely took his eyes off me. It was easy to see that he was in pain, but he was so calm that I couldn't help but think that this had happened to him before and he knew it was going to pass.
I looked around to make sure we were alone. "May I?" I took the hem of his t-shirt. He nodded and I lifted it. The glow was still there, but not nearly as bright as before. I smoothed his shirt down and locked eyes with him. The red glow was nowhere to be seen.
I stood up and watched for Giovanni's boat. My heart clattered. What kind of disease makes your torso and eyes glow from the inside out?
Five
The boat ride back was notably tense. Giovanni raced us home as quickly as he dared while I tried to figure out how to tell Elda and Pietro what I had seen. I barely noticed as the boat juddered across the waves. I kept an arm tight around Isaia, who had lain in my lap as soon as we'd gotten into the boat. The glow... I couldn't shake it. It had been real, hadn't it?
We returned to an empty house. I put Isaia into bed and left the covers off. After laying a cool washcloth over his forehead, I took the digital thermometer from the first aid kit in their bathroom. While the thermometer did its work, I fetched a glass of water and a glass of ice and set them on his bedside table. After switching his ceiling fan on, I sat beside him and waited, watching his narrow chest rise and fall.
He watched me through half-lidded, unfocused eyes. I flipped the washcloth over, startled by how warm it felt. Time to refresh it. When I returned from the bathroom faucet, I took the thermometer from his mouth. The thermometer gave Celsius only, so even though I could read 72 degrees, I didn't know what it meant. I was accustomed to reading body temps in Fahrenheit. I used my phone to convert the number. When I saw the conversion, I almost dropped my phone. My hands trembled.
"I think this thermometer is broken," I joked nervously to Isaia. "According to this, you're almost hot enough to bake muffins." I put the broken thermometer on the bedside table. If the temperature were right, he would be dead by now.
I looked up what to do for a fever on my phone. "Run a lukewarm bath," I read aloud. I dashed into he bathroom and cranked on the faucets. My hands shook and I thought that I might be sick. I looked at the toilet, trying to decide if my breakfast was actually going to come up or not. I bent and took a few swallows of water from the tap.
I went back to get Isaia as the water filled the tub, taking a moment to watch for the glow. His eyes were glassy but without any hint of red. There was no tantrum, no childlike thrashing, and not a peep of sound. He lay there limply.
"Up we go, buddy. Time for a little bath, okay? This should make you feel better." He wheezed as I carried him to the bathroom. I grit my teeth at the sound, and nausea passed over me again. Was he dying? Where was Elda? What was taking her so long?
I sat on the toilet and held him on my knee. I pulled off his shirt, looking with grim satisfaction to see that the glow was now gone. I got his jean shorts off and lowered him into the water in his underpants. Grabbing a stuffed bath toy, I put it under his head to make him comfortable. "Is that okay?"
He gave the smallest nod and the awful sound of him sucking in breath seemed a little better.
Rapid footsteps pounded on the stairs.
"We're in the bathroom," I yelled, and my went weak with relief.
She burst into the bathroom. "Mama is here." Elda knelt at the tub, her hand going to his forehead. She shot me a grateful look. "Brava, Saxony."
I couldn't bring myself to smile at her praise. My heart had finally stopped lurching out of my chest, but my mind had not slowed in the slightest. What was going on with this kid?
We got him out of the tub and into a pair of pajamas. I watched her sit at his bedside and go through all of the maternal motions that I had been through already - putting a hand on his forehead, placing the cool washcloth on his head, and taking his temperature for a third time. He endured all of it without protest. The thermometer now reported only slightly above normal, but I narrowed my eyes at the thing. I must have read it wrong. Or maybe I'd messed up the conversion?
I explained to Elda that he'd gotten sick at the demo. I stuttered and stalled, trying to figure out how to tell her about the glow. I would sound crazy. Was I crazy? I had already started to doubt what I had seen.
Elda listened quietly. I couldn't tell what she was thinking. Three times I opened my mouth to say something about the glow, and three times the words got stuck in my throat.
Isaia watched me struggle with the story the entire time. I'd never felt so conflicted before. Would she think I was lying? Making something up for drama? I didn't know her well enough yet. If she had seen the glow before, she would have told me about it, wouldn't she?
I choked out the story, leaving out the most critical part. I was hoping she might give me some kind of opening that would make me feel better about telling her that her son looked like he was on fire from the inside, but she gave me no such confidence.
"Poor thing, I can see that it's really upset you," Elda said when I had finished stuttering through it. "Don't worry too much, Saxony—this kind of thing is normal for Isaia. I told you that he sometimes gets fevers, and that they pass within a day. You did everything right, and I'm grateful."
We left Isaia to sleep. I found myself wishing that I had thought of taking a photo or a recording of the glow of his belly and his eyes. If it happened again, that's what I would do. Then I would have proof.
Elda was watching me. "You're really shaken, aren't you?"
The way she said it made me think that she had never before seen the glow. My anxiety must have looked like an overreaction to her.
"Sure, I was... I am worried about him," I replied. "How hot does he get, normally?"
She paused, just for a moment. "The usual. Maybe 38.5, 39." She blinked rapidly a couple of times.
She's lying.
I rejected the thought immediately. Of course she wasn't lying. She was his mother. She loved him, and she would arm me—his care-taker—with all the knowledge I needed to look after him. That's how it worked when the health of a child was involved. Right?
I went up to my apartment in a troubled daze. Just as I closed the door behind me, my phone chirped. It was a text from Rafaele.
Everything is okay?
I smiled in spite of my worries. It was thoughtful of him to follow up. I texted back.
Me: He is okay. He had a fever but it’s already gone down. Thanks for asking.
Rafaele: Of course. Poor little guy. Maybe we can finish the demonstration another time. I'll give you a rain check. They say rain check in Canada?
Me: Yes they do. And thank you, Rafaele.
Rafaele: Welcome. And call me Raf.
Me: Okay, but if you call me Sax, I'll kill you.
There was a pause. I hoped he was laughing at my joke.
Raf: Understood. ??
I rubbed my hands over my eyes. Not even my first week in and already there was some crazy drama, as well as a cute boy. I had something to write home about now. But if I told my friends about Isaia, there was no way they'd believe me. I was already the drama queen in our group. When I was younger, I’d tended to exaggerate, and that bad habit had come back to bite me in the ass. Now I felt like I had to earn my credibility again. I couldn't do that by telling crazy stories about a little boy whose eyes and stomach glowed red.