THOSE AWAKE... 

By Tessa Harvey



Imelda sighed happily. It was six months since her accident, and she was well healed. She was lifting Yvonne's baby, George back into his crib when a frenzied knocking rattled the front door.
    Leaving the startled, screaming baby, she hastily went downstairs, almost tripping but catching herself just in time from falling headlong. Cautiously, Imelda opened the door. A stranger was supporting a frail old lady who was very white and looked utterly spent. Imelda was speechless. :Don't just stand there, woman. Help, damn you and get us in! We don't have the virus, just get us in and out of view and call your doctor." The male voice was strong and demanding.
    Imelda did as she was ordered, helping the frail elderly lady, feeling a deep pity as she helped hold her. Her bones were tiny, like a bird's.
    The man slammed the door, looked around, and hefted the older lady into his arms onto a nearby downstairs bed. "I said, get help," roared the man. "Are you deaf?!!"
"But, this is not my house...." her excuse faded and she began to dial a number. "Not the hospital," called the man, trying to loosen the older lady's neck collar and chafing her hands. "Your own doctor, and get water....please," he added, somewhat belatedly.
    Imelda opened her mouth to say that it was not really her own doctor, then shut her mouth. Wake up, she chided herself. "Get help," Concentrate, she thought. 
    She called the doctor, then ran for little Alison's sippy cup. Filling it with fresh, clear water, she hastened back to the strangers.
This time the man glanced at the cup and nodded a look of approval. But then he had to prise the cup from Imelda's frozen fingers. "It's my aunt," she whispered. "Auntie Mia! What happened to her?"




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