21
Carlie pulled out another half-dozen journals, emptying the first crate.
Jon finished scanning the journal he had picked up earlier. Looking over at Carlie, he caught her up on the journal’s contents. “As I said before, this is more about Edith’s upcoming marriage than anything else. I’m hoping the book you’re reading will give us a little more insight.”
Carlie set down the completed journal and started scanning the pages of the next when something caught her eye. “Well, they finally made it to America. After almost three weeks at sea, they, and fifty or so other couples, landed in New York. She mentions that as soon as they are settled, she plans on asking Ian if she could send for her sister Emily.”
Jon looked over at Carlie. “I don’t think we need to cover every single day in the life of Ian and Edith. We need to pick up from where they built this house.”
“You’re right. None of this means anything. I just can’t believe how young this girl was. At fourteen, getting married and moving halfway around the world would never have crossed my mind.”
“I can’t say marriage was much of a consideration when I was fourteen either.”
Carlie started scanning more quickly, as did Jon. Within an hour or so, they had finished the stack next to Jon. Carlie started putting the journals back into the crate, while Jon went to the kitchen to refill their coffee cups.
Carlie was emptying another crate onto the floor when Jon walked back into the room.
A hazy black shadow passed in front of him as he crossed the living room threshold. As it did, the air density changed immediately. A heavy rancid smell was the first thing he noticed. Carlie was on her knees replacing the journals they had just read. She never even looked up.
The air seemed thick, almost liquid. Jon tried to take a deep breath, but it felt like only half his lungs were working; he wasn’t getting any air at all. He started panting in quick, short gasps for what little air he could find. His first thought was to not panic. Not panicking, however, was impossible, as intense panic brought on by his impending suffocation had already set in.
Looking up from the floor, Carlie could see that Jon was having serious problems breathing.
Jumping to her feet, she grabbed the coffee cups from his hand before he dropped them.
Jon bent over and placed both hands on his knees. He stood motionless and stretched his back from the bottom to the top in a slow rolling motion, hoping to fill his rapidly depleting lungs. He mentally tried to slow down his breathing—even just a little—to avoid passing out. As he tried counting backward from one hundred, sweat washed down his forehead and dripped to the floor. His hair took on a soggy, greasy film, and his complexion turned a sickly gray. His lips and fingernails were already turning a pale blue, and bright red lines were forming at the corners of his eyes.
As hard as it was to concentrate on anything other than getting a breath of air, he managed to wiggle the fingers on both hands. He rotated his jaw and scrunched his face, looking for any sign of paralysis. Fortunately, he didn’t find any. Unfortunately, that ruled out a cause as simple as a stroke or a heart attack—which left something he didn’t even want to begin to consider.
As quickly as the attack had started, it began to dissipate. Jon’s breathing slowly returned to normal. The episode lasted nearly fifteen minutes before it was over. When it was, he stood up and looked at his wife. The earlier fear was back in her eyes.
“My God, Jon, are you all right?”
“I don’t know. You didn’t notice the air in here? I felt like I was breathing underwater.”
“No, the air was fine. I didn’t notice a thing.”
Jon sat back down in his chair, his breathing still labored. Leaning forward seemed to take some of the pressure off his lungs, allowing the air to flow a little more freely.
Carlie sat down on the arm of the chair and gently ran the palm of her hand up and down the center of his back. “You scared the hell out of me, Jon Summers. I thought you were having a heart attack or something.”
“To be honest, I did too.” What he didn’t say was that his first thought was about what had happened to Dexter. Jon had not hallucinated, but all the same, he believed that he had just received a taste of the same warning Dexter had been given.
Jon seemed to be doing better when he returned from taking a shower. His complexion was still a little pale, but he seemed to be breathing normally again. Running her hand over his forehead, Carlie found that he was no longer clammy to the touch, so she returned to her place on the couch.
“Are you ready for this? If not, I understand. We can just go to bed and start fresh in the morning.”
“I’m feeling better now. You read. I’ll just listen, if that’s all right.”
“That’s fine. You just relax.” Picking up her journal, she opened it to the place she had bookmarked. “They just left New York. There were apparently rumors of a government land giveaway sometime in the near future out west. Ian heard about it and saved all his money so they could go.
“Ian bought a wagon and a pair of horses for two hundred dollars. After loading everything they owned, they headed west.”
“Good for Ian,” Jon mused. “He evidently had never taken a road trip with a woman in a moving vehicle. If he had, he never would have left New York. Imagine stopping at every bush and tree from New York to Iowa so Edith could pee.”
The laughter in Carlie’s eyes spoke volumes—but she still gave him the finger.