100 Things 38/100: The Missionary's Wife
Title: The Missionary’s Wife
Fandom: Original Fiction
Rating: Gen
Word Count: 1,359
Prompts: Dark Bingo Fill: “Fever/delirium”
Love Bingo Fill: “Indifference”
Hurt Comfort Bingo Fill: Pandemic/epidemic”
30 days of Flashfic Day 17: “Write a scene with a character in a foreign land, unable to speak the local language”
The little man was jabbering at her again. Elizabeth shook her head and waved her hand, she simply could not make him understand that she did not speak his language. His manner was kindly, he seemed to be trying to help, but she didn’t know what he was saying. It was so infernally hot in this place, unbearable, really. She raised her wrist to her forehead as she stared around at the bazaar. She could see the heat, shimmering in the air. She hated this horrible, dirty, hot and foreign place.
Alexander would have known what the man was saying. But Alexander was gone, dead, his corpse moldering in a shallow grave behind the mission. Words had been spoken over his simple wooden coffin as it was lowered into the ground, but Elizabeth had not understood any of the words. Why had she come here? She had been a fool, drawn to the glamor and excitement of being a missionary’s wife, of helping the ignorant savages to find their way to Jesus and his love. The reality was so very different from the fantasy she had imagined as sensible Alexander had courted her back in England. Alexander with his bloodlines and family ties and all the proper qualities her family had desired for her husband.
She should have known things would be dreadful here. Life had been miserable back home, why should Alexander’s treatment of her change simply because they were overseas? If anything, he had grown more cold and aloof. He rarely spoke to her unless she asked him a direct question. the only time he spoke more than a sentence was when he preached from the pulpit to a gathering of people that did not understand a word he was saying. He had communicated with his wife only in a series of grunts and nods, sounds that could not truly be called words. Elizabeth had not had an actual conversation in almost two years, since coming to this forsaken place. Her husband had not approved of consorting with the natives, she had not been allowed to make friends or try to learn their language, she was to remain above and separate from the ‘godless savages’ in the village.
By the time he died, Elizabeth had hated him. It was a sin to hate, she knew that, but she did. She had never loved him, their marriage had been one of convenience, she had chosen him when her family would not approve of her first choice. She thought of Robert frequently these days, wondering how different her life would have been married to a man that was not indifferent to her, who cared about her and wanted her in his life and his bed?
There had been no marriage bed with Alexander, she was still an untouched bride, he had never consummated the union, citing various excuses before she had given up trying to coax him to her bed. Elizabeth knew in her heart things would have been so much different with Robert. She had been a weak fool to cave in to pressure from her parents and send him away. He had gone, professing that he would never forget her. How strange. Alexander had forgotten her before the ink was dry on the marriage certificate.
Her stomach rolled and in a panic, she looked for somewhere to be sick. She spotted a bin and ran to it, barely making it in time to lean over the edge before she vomited. The little man that had been telling her fortune or asking directions or perhaps telling her to get off his property unless she gave him a pig suddenly disappeared.
It was so hot. She felt so weary. Why was she bothering? She was alone and lost and the money was nearly gone and she couldn’t speak to any of these people and Dear God, she probably had the plague that had killed Alexander. She leaned over the bin again and retched. The weather had not turned to deepest summer after all, she had caught the fever that had run like wildfire through all the local villages.
Realizing she was ill, she needed to go back to the mission. The cook and maid were there, they at least had been feeding her and cleaning for her, though they didn’t speak English they understood her hand signs well enough. She stumbled a few steps and the world began to spin around her. Her knees shook and her legs went numb. Her head hurt. Why was it so dark in the middle of the day? She toppled forward, her skirts billowing around her in the dust.
~*~
“Elizabeth?”
A cool dampness pressed against her forehead as her name was spoken. She opened her eyes. “Am I dead?” she asked, it seemed like quite a sensible question to her.
“No, dear. You might feel like it, but you aren’t dead,” Robert replied as he touched the cloth to her cheek. It felt cool and refreshing against her warm skin.
She was confused. “How are you here, Robert?”
“I came looking for you, to see how you were doing out here. I never expected to find you like this.” He gestured around the dingy bedroom that she had shared with Alexander. When she tried to sit up, he pressed her back gently. “No, you need to rest and give the medicine time to work.”
Slumping back against the thin pillow, she stared at him. “Medicine?”
“I came with a caravan heading south. They’re bringing medicine for the epidemic. They heard about the outbreak here and we detoured to see if we could help. I thought you were in Mahaja?”
“Alexander had a falling out with the elders of the village so we came back north.” She reached for Robert’s hand and clutched it. “I am so very glad to see you.” She didn’t even care that she was dressed in a simple undershift and that it was completely improper for him to be sitting on the side of her bed as he was.
He pushed the damp hair back from her face. “You are very lucky, Lizzy. Your housemaid found you in the road and bullied her brothers into carrying you back here. None of the villagers would touch you. And I’m happy to see you too.”
“I made a mistake, Robert. I never should have sent you away.”
“I never should have gone.”
She blinked back tears. “I’m going to die. I stayed away too long, and now it’s too late.”
He wiped her cheek with his thumb and made a shushing noise. “No dearest, no. Don’t talk like that. The medicine will work. Your fever is going down. You aren’t delirious anymore. When I got here you were out of your mind with fever. You’re doing so much better now.” He stroked her cheek and looked at her tenderly.
“How long have you been here? How long have I been sick?”
“Six days,” he replied. “Would you like some water?”
Elizabeth nodded and sipped at the cup he held to her lips. It tasted good. That was odd, the water here was dreadful. “Why does the water taste good?”
He chuckled. “it is not from the well out back. It comes from the falls further north, the caravan left me with my barrel when they moved on yesterday.”
“What will you do, they left without you?”
“I’ll stay right here and take care of you. And then I will take you north and we will get on the next ship heading home. With Alexander gone, there is nothing to keep you here anymore, is there?”
“No. No, there isn’t. Thank you, Robert, you saved me,” Elizabeth whispered and closed her eyes. Robert had come for her. She could hope now that things would be different. Walking alone along the path with a man that cared not for her company had been an ordeal, she was ready to demand more from life. There would be no talk of sending Robert away again, should he care to stay. She hoped he did.
The End
Originally posted at http://rinkafic.dreamwidth.org/