Chapter 3: THE UMBRELLA

The changes, as expected, presented a few logistical challenges at first, but soon they settled into a familiar routine. Ms. LaFleur prepared breakfast in the kitchen. She was lost in meditative thought as the sound of icy rain pelted like pebbles against the windowpane and mixed with the sizzle of the eggs and sausage from the cast iron skillet on the stove. The smell of yeasty buns filled the cozy two bedroom apartment shared with two others. As she set out the tea, a bedroom door creaked opened.

The elderly woman emerged with a scowl and hobbled to the table set for three. She took the seat furthest from the bay window and grumbled as she did every morning that the room was an icebox. A heavy knit shawl, soft and warm, draped loosely around her shoulders. She pulled and wrapped it securely around her fragile frame. After carefully sipping the warm rose tea, the lines of her scowl finally relaxed.

Ms. LaFleur sighed and the tension released from her shoulders. While wiping her hands on the apron, she studied the table filled with platters of food and properly arranged flatware, wondering what was still missing. Everything was there, she thought, frowning and glanced to the clock on the wall. But not everyone.

"I see the boy is not out yet," grumbled the elderly tenant, blowing on her tea.

Worried, Ms. LaFleur knocked on the bedroom door. Chez had overslept and, having been just awakened, rushed around the room pulling out drawers and assembling clothes in the attempt to make up for lost time.

A while later, he threw open the doors, revealing the two women eating breakfast. Chez hastily grabbed a bun and rushed towards the door, grumbling about having already missed the bus.

"It's raining," the old woman said around a mouthful of eggs. Chez's shoulders dropped. In his haste he hadn't noticed. There was little he could do except prepare to get wet.

"One moment," Ms. LaFleur stopped him at the door. She disappeared into their shared room and reappeared a moment later holding her favorite red umbrella.

Chez protested. "It's fine," she assured him. "You can't wear wet clothes all morning."

"But you'll need it." Chez pushed the umbrella towards her, refusing to take it.

Ms. LaFleur assured him that she would be taking the bus to both jobs and the rain would likely stop by evening. "If it doesn't, I'll ask my boss to take me home." Chez didn't wanted to take it but was worried about being further delayed and missing first period; so he thanked her, grabbed the umbrella and left.

It rained all day, as was common for late November. Chez, shielded by the small umbrella, felt grateful for the relief it provided from the chill but couldn't shake the concern for his mother. He thought about meeting her after work but dismissed it, as the umbrella was too small to share, and she already had a ride home.

Early in the morning, the bedroom door opened. Cold droplets sprayed his cheek and a silhouette crouched in front of the drawers. Sleepily, Chez sat up and asked what time it was.

Ms. LaFleur told him to go back to bed. But Chez could hear a tremor in her voice and turned on the bedside lamp. His eyes widened at the sight of his mother drenched and shivering, with her hair and clothes pasted to pale colorless skin.

He leapt from his bed and rushed to her side. Chez couldn't believe how cold she felt. She told him she was fine and that she was just planning to take a warm shower and get a change of clothes. He grabbed a towel and threw it over her shoulders, insisting she dry herself while he ran a bath.

After her bath, Chez helped her into bed, leaving a warm cup of honey tea on the nightstand as a cough had already settled in her lungs.

Gently he asked why her boss hadn't given her a ride home. Frowning weakly, Ms. LaFleur admitted that her boss had decided not to come in, due to the rain, because there was no need for the two of them there. Chez envisioned his mother walking the hour home. He grabbed cold medicine and left it beside the tea, promising to stop by the clinic on his way home from school to get her something stronger.

Ms. LaFleur said she felt much better after the warm bath. But Chez noticed she still shivered. He grabbed another blanket and tucked it around her before lying on the bed beside her unable to fall back asleep. As he lay awake, he cursed his mother's thoughtless boss for not realizing what her actions had caused.

Ms. LaFleur got hypothermia walking home that night and stayed in bed for several days.

Chez arrived home to a dimly lit apartment. He set his backpack down next to the sofa where a folded blanket and pillow were left. Since his mother's illness, Chez had started sleeping on the sofa to give her more space. From outside the bedroom, he heard a wheezing cough.

He knocked gently, calling to her before opening the door. She coughed into a tissue, whipping away the yellow mucus with specks of pink, and whincing at the pain in her side. She touched her head, pushing back strans of hair stuck to damp skin, and started to bury herself again under piles of blankets. On the nightstand were crumpled tissues, empty capsels of medicine from the pharmacy, and a bowl of soup, now cold, from breakfast that she hadn't eaten.

"Mom," Chez entered. The room was hot like a sauna, but she seemed to be forever cold with a stubborn fever that had lasted now two days. None of the medicine was effective, and with every meal left untouched, the energy needed to recover also diminished.

He sat on the edge of the bed and called her name again. She heard him that time, turning to see him. She smiled weakly and asked if he was just getting back from school. Chez ignored the question.

"You need to go to the hospital," he said. She tsked and said it was only a cold. Though he patiently listened to her assurances that another day in bed was enough, Chez refused to budge. Placing his palm on her forehead, he notice how hot and clamy the skin was.

"Is one hour enough time to get ready?" He asked, pulling out his phone and arranging for an autoCAB. She was very weak. He helped her with her clothes and hair, and found her medical documents. When the autoCAB pulled up outside the apartment, he helped her down the steps and into the vehicle.

Destination required, prompted the autoCAB when they were both inside. It was that cold robotic tone common in all AI that forever made them disjointed from humanity. Kevin had nothing to worry about.

"St. Anthony's Hospital."

Chez was at her side when the doctor informed them she had developed severe pneumonia and would need to be admitted to the hospital while they treated it.

"Don't worry," the doctor assured Chez seeing his expression, "she's going to be alright."