Hold On--Chapter 6

A mouth-watering aroma greets Marcus, Dillon, and I as we walk into Olivia’s house.

“What’s that smell?” I ask darting my eyes around the room looking for the cause of the scent.

“This,” Rose says appearing from the kitchen. In her hands lies a blueberry pie with steam rising from it. Our eyes widen.

“But how did you get the sugar and stuff?” Marcus asks.

“Well,” Olivia starts a little nervously, “I kinda promised the baker some meat in return for the ingredients.” Marcus, Dillon, and I look at each other. It made me a little angry for her to promise that without our consent.

I’m not sure if it was the pie’s intriguing fragrance, or Olivia’s innocent smile that alleviated my anger, but I found myself strolling toward the bakery with the sack hoisted on my shoulder and Olivia at my side. The bakery welcomes us with the delightful scent of freshly baked goods. My mother came here all the time to guy bread to go with her homemade jam, but I was always out in the forest hunting.

“Sal?” Olivia calls. A middle aged woman with dark brown hair pulled back in a ponytail and gray eyes emerges from under the counter.

“Hey there Olivia and…” she stumbles.

“Skye,” I say, extending my hand.

“Pleased to meet you,” she says happily accepting my gesture.

“We have your game,” Olivia chimes in. “What would you like?”

“You got any squirrels?” she asks. I nod. “I’ll take two.” I hand her the two squirrels I had earlier pinned with arrows. “Thanks a bunch!” Sal calls as we leave the bakery.

“I’ve known Sal since I was a child,” Olivia comments as we return home. “My mom took me there all the time.”

We arrive back at their house to the sight of four rabbits, cleaned and sliced, roasting on a small stove. Rose is setting plates on the table and soon enough, Marcus is pulling the rabbits off the heat. We happily gobble up the rabbit meat as well as some dandelion leaves. The food at the orphanage was nothing in comparison with the taste of fresh game. After polishing off a small slice of pie each—which tasted better than it smelled—we all swore we couldn’t eat another bite. The rest of the meat and pie are stored in the cupboard.

Marcus starts a fire in the hearth. We all spend the evening talking about our childhood and such. I told them about the time when my dad was young and held his bow the wrong way while learning how to shoot. I also told them what he said to me wanting to be called Skye instead of Skylar. Rosalind and Olivia told of mishaps in the kitchen and their favorite recipes. Dillon and Marcus shared their favorite places and memories in the forest. At about the time when we would’ve gone to bed, we agreed that we couldn’t bear to part. Soon enough we were all sound asleep.

My eyes flicker open the next morning. Rose and Olivia lie on either side of me, still asleep. The moment I get up, my stomach complains. I rush to the bathroom

“Good morning Skye,” Dillon greets as I pass by. I have no time to respond. I shut the bathroom door and last night’s dinner makes its reappearance. I walk out, clutching my stomach, right into Dillon’s arms.

“You okay?” he asks, stroking my hair. I let out a moan in response. Olivia, Marcus, and Rose come from behind him.

“You’re burning up,” Rose remarks, feeling my forehead.

“Probably the stomach flu,” Olivia says. Dillon walks me over to the couch and I collapse on it.

“I guess hunting’s out of the question,” I croak with the slightest of smiles.

“You’d better take it easy today,” Dillon says gently.

“Don’t let any rabbits get by,” I whisper as he and Marcus head to the door. He gives me a nod and a smile.

After a while, the other four were having breakfast. Rose and Dillon were trying to coax food down me, but the raccoon meat, bread, and homemade strawberry jam didn’t appeal to me. I struggle home with Dillon and Rose at my side. Dillon spends ten minutes with me on the couch before Rose convinces him that I’d be fine. He leaves and Rose grabs my quilt from my room and lays it on my fevered body.

When I awaken, everyone sits at the dining table eating lunch.

“Welcome back,” Marcus comments.

“Feeling any better?” Olivia asks. I shake my head in misery. Rose walks toward me with a cup of tea.

“I made you some lemon and honey tea,” she says. When I sit up, the room spins for a moment, but I manage to grasp the cup and take small sips. It feels good to have the tea warm my tongue and throat. Nevertheless, it still comes back up an hour later.

The rest of my day is spent on the couch with the occasional trip to the bathroom to throw-up whatever small amount of food I eat. Other than that, I nap and listen to the others—who have decided to stick around—talk, while trying to ignore the pain in my stomach.

At dinner, I’m still feeling horrible and refuse the bowl of broth Rose offers, knowing it won’t sit it my stomach for long. I don’t even want the leftover pie.

As night rolls in, everyone decides to stay. Everyone drifts off to sleep, including Dillon, who had reserved a spot on the rug next to me on the couch.