Crystal didn't want to ask her for a
thermometer. She was afraid that might stir up her
concern, so as soon as the breakfast rush was over, I
went back to town, stopped at a drugstore and bought
one.
When we took her temperature, we found
Butterfly had a fever of a hundred and one. By the late
afternoon, it went to a hundred and two.
"And that's with Tylenol," Crystal reminded us.
"She's having a hard time."
Crystal and I continued to sponge Butterfly
down. Raven was terrified of getting too close to her
and continued to shiver with the thought that she
would soon be following in Butterfly's footsteps. She
racked her brain trying to remember if she'd had
measles, but she just couldn't remember.
"You should probably stay away just in case,
Raven," Crystal warned her. "We can't afford to have
both of you get sick."
Suddenly, we heard a knock on the door.
Everyone froze.
"It's Patsy!" I said peering through the improvised curtains.
Crystal told Butterfly to turn over on her side
and pretend to be in a deep sleep. Then she opened the
door.
"How's she doing?" Patsy asked.
"She's sleeping comfortably," Crystal said. "Poor little dear. Let me know if there's
anything you need. If you want to take her to a doctor,
I'll call my physician and get you an appointment.
He's very nice and . ."