“You’ve a somber look upon you,” Ash was ever as discerning as she was gentle, those wary eyes finding mine, like flashing green sirens detecting the slightest trace of distress. “I shall not pry should you wish not to think of the moment for any longer. Instead, with concern, I ask, are you alright, Master?”

Extra diligent today, I see. I barely twisted the latch and bolt on the door, and already so eager she was to jump into the role of nurse, therapist, my own personal patron saint. 

“I’m fine, Ash,” I said to her, turning my somberness into a smirk. “He’s annoying, he’s irritating, but I’ll live. Besides, it’s good news, means he hasn’t completely taken over yet.” 

Yet.

Oh, how fast that word suddenly became something that could churn my stomach so easily. It’s like a big bad thunderstorm looming over in the distant horizon, threatening to thunder, threatening to storm, except it hasn’t… not just yet. 

Again, like invisible alarm bells ringing aloud, Ash threw me another peculiar stare. 

“And he won’t ever,” She said, stating it out loud like a definitive fact that couldn’t be refuted, with confidence, with faith, and with a beautiful smile. “Isn’t that right, Master?” 

And just like that, there went the storm and the skies were clear again, the sun shining oh so dazzlingly bright. 

I nodded. “Right.” 

We continued our walk, and after a while, I began to notice that Ash was doing her best to keep out of my own thoughts. She’d make short conversation, point out something peculiar about the view, or even make remarks about the weather…  according to her, there’s a high chance of rain this evening… which sucks. It’s going to be hard to focus on the barrier when I’m spitting out raindrops every two seconds.

Anyway, it was plenty clear as day that she wanted me to relax, and what kind of stupid despicable monstrosity would I be to deny her attempts at doing so? I joined in, allowing our quiet walk to briefly turn into a leisurely stroll, and it was nice, for the remainder of our journey, I could forget. But as with everything else, it couldn’t quite last for as long I wished it would. 

Our home rarely ever gets outside visitors, and the dirt road seldom ever saw any use too, with the only exception being Dad’s truck, commuting back and forth almost each and every day, his tire marks are practically etched into the earth at this point. Without fail, I could always recognize them. 

I didn’t recognize the tire marks that were imprinted into the dirt now. They were smaller, fresher, trailing an unbroken line towards the direction of our house. 

Mmm, I thought this might happen, I just kinda hope that it wouldn’t. I saw the signs, and I deliberately turned a blind eye. All those raspy coughs I’ve heard throughout the day and night, how pale and frail she gradually looked, the crumpled tissue plys I saw she’s stuffed in her sleeves –  I ignored it, kept thinking, kept hoping, maybe it was just a fluke.

Maybe it still was….

“Is something amiss, Master?” Ash asked, quickly growing aware of my sudden silence.

“I’m hoping not,” I simply said, slightly increasing my pace. 

Shortly after, all was revealed, and my worst fears were sadly confirmed. The tire tracks lead to a small, white car parked slanted in the middle of our driveway. That – I recognized. 

The slightly visible indent on the passenger-side door, the loose trunk at back always seemingly threatening to swing ajar, rear-view windows leaning so much inwards they were practically rendered useless. As a kid, I always thought he was in dire need of a new car. As an adult now, I’m still thinking the same thing. 

Doctors should have standards, don’t they?

Slowly, I approached the front door, just in time to hear and see it swing close, and watch as a frail yet sturdy looking old man carefully clambered down the porch, a leather satchel held in bony fingers, his unkempt graying hair groomed apparently in a hurry, and on his wrinkly brown coat was a badge buttoned with his name.

I called out to him. “Dr. Edward!”

The doctor raised his head and found me with his squinty eyes, a warm weathered smile forming in the wrinkles of his face. 

“That’s just Harry to you, remember?” He called back. “I’m not fond of surnames with folks I know for so long.

I knew that, it’s just… what a bloody coincidence, a scary coincidence…. sorry doc, but that name’s now taboo around this part. Along with other name that rhymes with ‘gay’… no offense to the other Jay’s in the world out there or gays… you’re all cool.

The doctor veered away from the direction of his car, making a beeline for me with a hand outstretched, and without skipping a beat, I took it, smiling right back.

“Well, well!” He proclaimed, his voice croaking delighted. “There he is! I saw you pass by the clinic yesterday with your Dad. Didn’t know you came back already! My, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you last. You’ve gotten skinnier, taller! And… and just who’s this lovely lady here with you?” 

“My name is Ash,” spoke the Elf prim and proper, her bow brimming with elegance. “It is a privilege to meet you, I am Master’s – “

“She’s my girlfriend,” I quickly interjected, subtly obscuring her from view. “She’s from out of country.”

“I see,” nodded the doctor, beaming pearly whites at her. “She’s beautiful if you don’t mind me saying, that is. You are a lucky man.” And for some time, he continued to just stare at her over me, and briefly, I saw his gaze shift to those little pointy things that resembled ears, he made a face, but ultimately didn’t question it. “Out of country, you say?”

“Far out of country, yeah,” I affirmed, then before he could inquire a bit more, I shifted the topic back to the matter at hand. “Anyway, um, yeah, what brings you here all of a sudden? This early too, you doctors don’t need sleep? “

His smile slowly receded into a straight, narrow line, the crinkles of joy on his face slowly flattening out as it did. He gave me a look, let out a sigh, and said, “Unfortunately, I’m sure you already know why I’m here…”

That I did. From youth to adulthood, in our household, he had only but one frequent customer… where some days in the month, our home would become a temporary clinic with only one sole patient residing inside. 

“You must hate to see me, don’t you?” The doctor said, a sad smile on his face. “I’m a walking omen of bad news here with my bag and car, when you see me, you know what to expect… I don’t blame you.”

“No, doc,” I told him, shaking my head. “You’re doing good, you’ve always been doing good by us, and can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done.” 

“No thanks necessary,” He said, giving another feeble sigh. “It sound wrong, but I wish I didn’t have to see you all as often as I do…” 

“Could try giving her apples,” I suggested. “Think that’ll work?” 

He smirked. “Not for this case, sadly.” 

My gaze drifted upwards, trying to see what little I could through the narrow gap in the blinds of the upstairs window… to no avail, sadly.

“How bad is it?” I asked.

“Mild,” He stated matter-of-factly. “Your father called and said she woke up vomiting, coughing, the regular symptoms… though it seems the worst has already come to pass, and she’s doing alright now. Give it a few days, a week, make sure she takes her daily dose, she’ll be back to her normal self again in no time.”

I don’t have a week, I don’t have a few days… no time was right. Damn it. Goddamn it.

“Alright, doc, thanks for coming,” I said, smiling, shaking his hand again. “Take care of yourself.” 

“And you take care of your mother, alright?” He replied, shuffling back to his parked car. “She’s lucky to have such a caring son like you.” 

After waving goodbye to Ash from the driver-side window, he finally drove off, leaving more marks onto the earth adding to the countless others already deeply engraved. 

Maybe I should start remembering his tire patterns too… 

At that moment, as the rumbling of the decades-old engine faded into the distance, Ash finally understood the reason for my somber look. 

“Your mother, Master” She spoke quietly, peering at my face from the corner of her eyes. “She’s fallen ill, has she?”

“It’s normal, don’t worry,” I said fast, stroking a mild throbbing in my head that suddenly manifested. “It happens, it always happens.”

“I see… you must be worried, as you should be,” Her stare went soft, solemn. “To see your loved one in pain, it only serves to ache you just as much.” 

“I’m fine, she’ll be fine,” I let out a heavy breath. “eventually…” 

“Yes, eventually…” Her ears perked up, as did her gaze, looking up at mine, staring with bemusement, with a sudden question. “But, forgive my bluntness, but surely she’s still capable enough to do as you’ve requested of her? In her state, that ‘doctor’ proclaimed her condition merely a mild ailment, so surely she…” 

Ash let her words trail away, uncertainty obstructing the rest of it, because what-if right? What if she couldn’t? But that’s stupid to even think about in the first place. 

This was Terestra we were talking about, would she really be done just because she’s sorta feeling under the weather right now? A huge chunk of me thinks that’s the furthest thing away from any sort of likelihood.

I began to move again, skipping the steps up the porch, and within mere seconds, I was facing the front door, feeling a small reluctance to swing open the handle.

Because of course… just what if, right?

Add that to the growing list of words that make my stomach do backflips. I have a feeling that list is going to be filled up rather quickly at this rate.

Let’s just hope Ash’s prediction about the weather was wrong for once… fingers crossed.