My fingers were like claws, and in my rage I could have hurt her. I quickly withdrew my hand. I passed my fingers through my hair and massaged my forehead as if to remove a bad idea.
"Take her."
Thomas leaned toward her with open arms, but he stopped when I pushed him away from her. I realized that I did not want someone else to take over.
"I'm on it, Thomas." I said, and with my arm under her back I lifted her easily when I got up.
Her body seemed lighter, as if something went away gently...
"Okay," said Thomas. He got up and waited.
My legs gave way at the thought of life drifting away from her. Thomas caught me in my fall. Instinctively, I struggled against his hands, threatening to bring down the little girl. Several arms approached me. I did not want their assistance. It was too much. Thomas caught me again, keeping the others from me as if he understood my aversion. The little girl swayed in my arms. I frowned, angry when Thomas shook the blankets around her.
"What's going on?" Tyrone asked, drawing near. His breathing was still calm and steady.
"The girl. He wants to save her, but it's too late." Victor replied in a mechanical tone before realizing what he had just said.
"Madness," said Tyrone.
I gave him a furious look, but his face was impassive and determined. Sullen, I surrounded her with my arms. I struggled with the blankets to free her hand. I wanted to feel her pulse. Only I could be sure that life had not left her.
"Madness, you say?" I asked, disgusted.
"What for?" Tyrone said as he looked up to the sky.
In a sudden and quick movement, he nodded to me and grabbed her hand.
"Hey!" I objected. I was amazed and surprised at my outburst.
He gave me a wry smile and dropped her hand. Her arm fell heavily. "If you want to, well..." he said.
I knew what he was thinking, but at that time, I did not care in the least. If he asked me why I wanted so much to save her, I could not answer him. Even I did not know the reason. I had a strange desire to rescue this little girl, and I didn't know why.
I walked to the first rescuer that I saw, with Tyrone on my tail. The girl had not moved for far too long. Her head was lolling back and forth, rocking to the rhythm of my steps.
"Sir, there are others." the rescuer's tone irritated me significantly. He seemed to expect an authorization (but from whom?).
I glared at him while I clutched the covers around her. I continued to approach him while raging inside.
"A doctor, I want a doctor." I turned, shaking my head from side to side when, finally, I heard a voice.
"Here, sir! Can I help you?"
I almost fell in his direction, with the little girl in my arms. I nearly tripped over a root sticking out of the ground in the middle of the clearing among the tall plants. I handed him the girl.
"Please, you must save her! Apparently she needs a transfusion of blood, a donation..."
"Ah! Yes, a colleague had already spoken of this. She has a rare disease and is not compatible with any of the 800 people gathered here..."
I stopped him, begging: "I can do it! Do it now."
"But, sir, you do not know if you are compatible."
"I know exactly! You said that without the transfusion she will die, right, right?"
"Yes, but..."
"And you think it is better to let her die, instead of trying to save her, right?" I roared so hard that all heads turned toward us.
He looked at me, and I saw a battle taking place in his head. He calculated the pros and cons.
"No. You are right. This way, if you will," he said, nodding toward the tent behind him. He touched the forehead of the girl. "Provided is not too late!"
He half opened the tent, and then stepped aside for me to go first. He followed me and walked quickly to a table on which were several kits. He opened one and pulled out a bottle of antiseptic liquid. From another package, he took syringes and needles, and prepared to perform the transfusion. I posed the girl gently on a camp bed, being careful not to shake her too much and to keep the covers in place.
He handed me gauze and a bottle of antiseptic liquid. I pulled her arm from under the covers and rolled her sleeve up to the elbow. Her skin was so white that her veins showed through as purple.
I cleaned her arm gently until the doctor came, took my gauze and muttered, "Let me do it, please. Sit down and raise your sleeve."
I sat on the ground, by the bed. I pushed up my sleeve, and I took another sterile gauze pad sprinkled with antiseptic liquid and cleaned my arm. The doctor, who had set up the transfusion, turned to me. He looked at me, as I was rubbing my arm as if I wanted to remove my skin.
"Enough," he said, with a faint smile on his face, and then he frowned. "I'll start. Give me your arm."
I held out my arm to him, sighing.
"Go ahead. I hope it is not too late..."
He took my arm and tapped it hard to prepare it for contact with the needle. Nothing happened. Neither my muscles nor my skin moved, as if they were a dense mass...
"Hmm," he said, and when he tried to insert the needle, it broke in two. The broken piece shot far behind us. "What the hell?" he said. His mouth had an unpleasant grin. "What kind of skin do you have?"
"I can do it," I muttered and grabbed another needle without waiting for his consent. "It's better if I do it anyway. Otherwise you'll run out of needles."
"But, where we are..."
With a rapid and nearly invisible movement, I pricked my skin at the right place, allowing my blood to flow. At the first drop, the doctor plugged the needle directly to the transfusion.
"I cannot promise anything. I don't know if it will work... What blood type do you have?"
I swallowed loudly. "I am," I smiled, but my eyes remained sad, "a universal donor." I closed my eyes, anxious to be finished.
The doctor opened his mouth, but suddenly closed it without another word, then he went to touch the forehead of the little girl and, slowing shaking his head, he walked away, but not without taking a last look at me.
The canvas fell away gently. There was no sound for a long time, and the warm and moist air led me once again to the dark terrain of my resentments.
I was about to succumb to paranoia when Tyrone spoke to me calmly, "You do not want to leave her."
"I do not like defeat, Tyrone." I protested gently.
"Yes, I know. Unfortunately, that is your only weakness, I think." He sighed and the air ejected from his lungs seemed endless.
"If she wakes up, I think she will have a life to live," I murmured.
Tyrone did not answer immediately, he seemed on the defensive. I heard him approach slowly and stand behind me. "You cannot do that! Saving her life was the thing to do today, of course. But at what cost?" His voice expressed discontent and I had to bite my tongue to stop the acid response that I wanted to level at him.
I controlled my breathing and waited a long time before replying. I felt the seconds run away, as my blood flowed drop by drop. "Tyrone. I think I can do it. I don't think there is any danger. They will not realize what happened. And then she will never have to worry about…"
"Have you thought about it? A moment is all it takes. How can you be sure?"
I did not answer straightaway, I swallowed my anger.
"Hmm..."
"I know how much this is unacceptable to you." he hastened to say.
What did he know about me? Really? About my resentment? Of my solitude? Of my whole life, that I considered wasted in vain and forever lost?
"No, you do not know. You do not know the price of a life, Tyrone! Not like me."
"I'm sorry, but I think about you, when..." he apologized in a low voice.
No! I wanted to cry.
"I know what you know," I agreed. "She will have a real life to live afterwards," I concluded bitterly. "This is what I hope for her!" And for me, I could add, but I knew it was a lie - nothing good could happen to me... No! Not to me...
"And for you?" Tyrone asked gently.
I did not answer, I was torn. I hated to agree with Tyrone. And I did not see why my true nature would make our friendship any different. I smiled, closing my eyes, and I took refuge in my own world.
My refuge was too pleasing for me to focus anymore. I did not want to continue this discussion, and in the silence that followed this strange exchange, I lost the battle against my weary spirit.
Nearby, I heard a key turning, a distant clicking, and an exquisite and familiar music enveloped me. Then I heard the regular creaking of a ghostly rocking chair, and a voice coming from somewhere else:
"I'm here, do not be afraid."
I smiled and I knew that, finally, I had fallen asleep.