Red with an orange highlight. Love my mariposas!

Well, hello and welcome to Monday. It is Monday, right? I must admit that since retiring in this lovely place I am sometimes prone to losing track of days and time in general. But. Here we are facing day 8 of Linda Hill’s #JusJoJan annual writing event, and today’s prompt comes from Sadje. I am also including a nod to Cee’s Fun Photo Challenge. Today’s prompt is the color red.

I thought it might be fun to catch up with our unwitting travelers, Dechlan and Noni. I’ve also titled this bit of fiction, so that means I’m thinking of seeing it through to completion at this point. 😉We left our young lovers seeking help for a wounded ankle in what appears to be 1500’s Italy…

Noni found herself crawling along a riverbank, grasping handfuls of thick dark grass as she struggled to move forward. She could hear the water rushing below and wondered where Dechlan was. The wind was cool on her hot face, like a breath of salvation. Then she heard him, as if from far away.
“Noni? Non, hey Non,” but she saw him nowhere. Suddenly she stopped and peered over the bank at the rushing water. Somewhere within those swirling ripples she heard him again.

”Noni please, are you okay? Come back!” The breeze was suddenly warm against her cheek, like a whisper of breath. She reached a weak arm down towards the water, and something grabbed it, pulling her into the river. She tried to fight back, but the hand was stronger than her and she succumbed, all the while Dechlan’s voice growing more insistent. When her eyes fluttered open, her boyfriend of six years had his hand around her wrist, keeping her from scratching him. His face was so close to hers she could feel his breath on her skin. She tried to smile but only felt a dribble of saliva slip from the corner of her mouth. Something course and foul smelling dabbed it away and her eyes darted from the beautiful face she knew so well to a strange man, speaking garbled language at her insistently. His thick dark eyebrows seemed to dance as he spoke, and his eyes showed worry. What was happening? Only when she tried to push herself up to sit did cruel memory find Noni in the way of searing pain in her right foot.
“Easy, now,” the beautiful face coaxed. “He’s set your foot and wrapped it, but God, Noni, it’s huge. You’re not going to be able to walk for a few days. The doc here has a room upstairs, and he’s offered, I think, to let us stay in it until you are up again.”

”Oh, no Dech, we have to keep moving. I… I don’t want to be stuck in Rome, Italy in this time. Women weren’t exactly treated well, you know?” She could see the doctor bustling around behind Dechlan, pulling out blankets and taking a lantern from the wall. All the while he kept speaking Italian, and she could only make out a few words. Something about ‘hide’ and something about ‘la sua grazia’. Grazia, grazia… she wracked her muddled brain. “Grace! His, his Grace!” she hissed into Declan’s ear. He’s saying he needs to hide us from the Pope!” Her eyes were wild with fear, and Dechlan knew this wouldn’t help her healing. When she tried to sit up again, he let her. As soon as she screamed and fell back, the doctor was beside them. He had a bottle of some kind of liquid, and when he poured it into the spoon, Noni looked at it with trepidation. It was thick and red with tiny bits of fiber floating on the surface.
“Bere, bere, bere!” he insisted. That word she knew well. How many times had her Nonna given her the nasty fish oil she thought would cure everything from a sick tummy to a common cold? She took a last look at the offending liquid, thinking it at least was prettier than Castor Oil.
“Okay, I’ll drink it,” she conceded. “But if you kill me, I swear I’ll come back and haunt you.” Dech sniggered, and that made her smile before she opened up and accepted the spoon. The stuff was thick alright, but it tasted somewhat like berries. When the fibers tickled her throat she started coughing, but Doc Italy hurried over to dip a cupful of water from a dubious looking bucket on his work table. She drank without question, for what other choice did she have? They were at this man’s mercy, and so far he’d shown them plenty. When a loud commotion rose beyond the door, he threw the blankets at Dechlan and gestured for him to pick Noni up, and fast. Then he pointed to a tall sideboard along the far wall. When Dechlan looked confused he just pushed him.

“Fretta”! He insisted. “Fretta, fretta, fretta,” he kept saying as he pointed towards the cabinet.
“We have to hurry, Dech. That’s what he’s saying. When my Nonno had a heart attack, that’s all everyone kept saying… “ The room was beginning to swirl as the medicine he’d given her kicked in. She barely felt Dechlan pick her up and follow the odd doctor. She didn’t hear the scraping as he pulled away the sideboard to reveal a low door. She didn’t even hear the loud pounding when the soldiers wanted in. The next thing she saw and heard was Dech’s sweet face as he leaned over her, tucking the blankets around her body and whispering.
“It’s alright now, Non. Just get some rest. I’m sure he’ll bring us some food in awhile. How are you feeling?” She saw his face fade in and out and tried to reach up and touch it, but her arm fell back onto the bed. She absolutely felt nothing as the medicine gloriously numbed the excruciating pain.
”I… I,” she said weakly, “feel so much gratitude…” and then passed out.

to be continued…

Cheryl K Pennington copyright 2024

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