Free The Pestilence by Faisal Ansari Page A

struggling, but we worked at it and came through the worst.
    Just as we got the store back on its feet my wife was diagnosed with advanced stage Alzheimer’s. I had noticed her forgetfulness for a while but thought it was down to old age and the stress of the store. Sometimes she forgets who I am, her husband going back thirty years. I know there is no cure for the disease and the treatments only slow it down, but I want to try and make the last few years of her life as best as I can.
    We don’t have nothing but government cover and it ain’t enough. My wife needs home help and her medications are real expensive. I can’t work the store and look after her. I have to leave her home alone most days and am scared when I get home what I might find. We don’t have family close, but my wife’s sister is an angel as she travels in once a month, but she has young kids and can’t visit long.
    When she was diagnosed I re-mortgaged the store and our house to pay for treatment. We spent our lives paying down the original mortgages and having to go back to the bank near enough broke my heart. The sicker she gets the more expensive the treatment gets and the more time I have to spend tending her so the store makes less money. It is a nasty situation we are in now. We are in arrears on our payments. The bank is understanding at the moment, but I am scared we will lose the store and our house.
    I am a proud man and have never asked the government or anybody for help, but now I am desperate. I am begging you; please write off our debt of $37,000. By giving us a helping hand out of this crisis you are truly doing God’s work.
    Yours faithfully,
    T Crowne
    Chaput Foundation:
    Due diligence on this application has been completed without any red flags.
    Distressed mortgage on applicant’s house and shop can be purchased for 40 cents in the dollar.
    Credit reference agencies have agreed to expunge the record of any arrears from the applicant’s files.
    Grant approved.
    ***
    SAMUEL and Mariam were on the ground floor of the Sinai General. The hospital’s huge size afforded the anonymity to wander freely, aided and abetted by Mariam’s stolen white coat. They had spent the last hour working their way through the first two floors, but they had eleven to go. It was late in the day and they agreed they would have to come back another time. They would need a full day to tackle this enormous building.
    They were heading along a corridor towards the west exit when a man called out to them. His right leg was missing below the knee and his right arm was strapped against his chest. He leant clumsily on a wooden crutch tucked under his left arm and was struggling to catch up with them.
    â€œHey you there, can you help an injured soldier?” The mental and physical wounds that Mariam and Samuel had encountered earlier that evening at the veterans’ hospital were beyond anything they had seen before. Mariam had shed tears of gratitude that Samuel had been able to help those wretched men. She moved immediately to assist the struggling man, to give him her shoulder and offer him her strength. Samuel reached out and pulled her back.
    â€œI am sorry, we were just leaving. I’m sure there are other members of staff around who can help you.” Mariam gawped at Samuel too shocked to speak.
    â€œNo son,” said the man with the wooden crutch. “I don’t want anyone else to help me. I don’t think anyone else can help me.” He hobbled past Mariam and stood expectantly in front of Samuel. “I have seen your powers son; I saw what you did in the wards upstairs. You cured veterans like me. So come on, cure me.”
    Samuel took a step back and raised his hand, subconsciously putting a barrier between them. “I’m sorry, I will not help you.”
    â€œSon, I’m a war veteran, I fought for my country.” The man with the crutch took a step towards Samuel; Samuel again