would he wake up the same man?
Henry forced himself upright in the chair and looked at the window, trying to see past his reflection and out to the dark road. His throat was swollen with fear and sorrow. Was this what it was like to realize he was dying?
“Henry,” said Marnie, glancing over at him.
“Hmm?” he turned slowly from the window.
“Don’t be sad Henry. I’ll take care of you. You’ll be better soon.”
Henry shook his head and smiled. “It’s not like a cold, Marnie. You need to stay away when I get sick. It will be like the people in the city– like the television. So I need to go away. Just until I’m not sick anymore. Do you understand?”
Her little shadow shook its head and Henry couldn’t tell for a moment, whether he’d been talking to her or the shadow. “No Henry. Don’t go. We’ll take care of you. We won’t get close, but we can still take care of you.”
Henry felt dizzy as his sight slid in and out of focus. He shut his eyes. “It’s too dangerous Marnie. You’ll be safe here with your mom and dad. I’ll just be down the road a little.”
He felt her little girl breaths hit his cheek as she came to stand next to him. She smelled like the light chemical strawberry of plastic toys. He was alarmed as a memory of his younger sister struck him. “Don’t leave,” Marnie whispered, thick in his ear, “I’m scared of the other man. Don’t go Henry, please. And tomorrow’s Christmas. Don’t you want to be here?”
His brain kept lingering on Phil and the dead woman in the road. He opened his eyes and looked at the small girl beside him. “Marnie, you stay away from Phil. Tell your dad to make him leave when he is well enough. Don’t go near him, you understand?” he was yelling without meaning to.
She nodded and started to cry. Elizabeth wandered into the kitchen to check on dinner. “What’s wrong Marnie?” she asked.
The girl wiped her eyes with a sleeve. “Don’t let Henry leave,” she said.
Elizabeth glanced sharply at Henry, but he was too unfocused to notice. “Daddy’s trying to figure something out. But Henry’s sick, honey. You don’t want to get sick too, do you?”
The girl looked up in shock and backed a few paces from Henry. He knew no one would get sick if they hadn’t already, but he thought it might be better if the girl stayed scared of him, so he said nothing. “But he went to town. To take care of us. We have to take care of him,” said Marnie.
“We’re going to try,” said Elizabeth with a tight smile, “Come on now, go wash your hands, it’s almost dinner time.”
Henry stood up as Marnie ran to the bathroom. He didn’t trust himself not to fall asleep and he didn’t want to have another difficult conversation with Elizabeth. He walked into the living room looking for Dave. Instead he found Phil stretched on the couch in a deep sleep. Henry thought about waking him, asking him about the frozen woman and the marks around her neck. He thought about warning him not to touch the girl or trying to take advantage of Dave or Elizabeth. But a profound sadness came over him as Henry realized there would be nothing he could do if Phil tried something. Even now, Henry was clumsy and slow. He was no match for anyone. He doubted he could even put together a good bluff. So he turned away from Phil and saw a light in the backyard through the window. He headed outside to find Dave.
The empty woodshed blazed with light. The curved stand of trees behind it seemed darker and closer than ever, a hovering chorus of hunched scavengers over the flimsy plywood and tin. Henry’s skin tightened against his warm sleeves as he watched Dave staple plastic over the interior of the empty building. Not the shed, he thought, not like a dog, this isn’t how I want to die.
He walked up to the small shed and tripped at the threshold. Henry fought the panic raking across his chest. “I should just go, Dave.” The smell of sap echoed even through the