FEVER

Part 1

It was an ordinary afternoon of a hot summer in Ryuuseigai.
It was too hot to play tag. It was suffocating and everyone went slowly, so many children and teenagers had decided to organize a small summer cinema in the shade of the giant sequoia at the foot of the hill. The first screening would take place that evening, inaugurating the area with an animated series favored by the local kids; the only ones working on that sultry day were a few kids who were setting up the stage, the canvas and the rest.
We worked slowly but hard, wet foreheads wrapped with handkerchiefs rolled up and secured with knots behind the necks and many arms working around the area.
Four of the fifteen-year-old boys already have their undershirts soaked as they nail down the stage boards; one of them, seems bigger than the others, wears only shorts showing a more muscular and solid physique, the wild look; he was helping an elderly man hoist up one of the long, heavy poles that would hold up the white tarp creating a sort of gazebo. Some girls, on the other hand, arranged the chairs, brought two long tables where they would set up a rudimentary buffet, two others sewed by joining two tarpaulins.
A little girl is carrying a basket full of groceries in both hands.
Her eyelids are set very low, she wears a fishing cap that wraps around her head like a jellyfish dome; his forehead is sweaty, but who doesn't have it that day?
He places the basket on the table, standing up on his toes.
But his toes slip, his little body falls heavily backwards hitting his head on the grass.
The girls open their mouths, their faces rub together, some hands stretch out and many legs snap running towards the little girl on the ground.
Their cries have attracted the attention of the others, some boys run after another, only one, blond, rushes worried in the middle of the small crowd, rudely pushes aside some boys. The little one is sweating a lot, she is panting terribly with her mouth open, her breath whistles in pain. She is red, eyes closed.
The blond boy slowly bends over her, takes her in his arms.
The stocky old man steps forward with heavy but agile strides, despite being overweight. He wipes the sweat from his broad forehead with a handkerchief, then from his thick white mustache and neck.
The boy who seems older among all, who was with him, follows him without saying anything but still very worried; at the sight of his two famous black pigtails, he widens his green eyes and precedes the old man, running shouting his name.
"Mayumi!!"
That's her name, the most beautiful girl in the North West district and known by all for her kind ways, never to get angry.
Another pink-haired girl with low pigtails approaches the blond boy who has now picked her up.
The old man spreads his arms, admonishes everyone saying to make room for her to breathe.
The blond boy with an almost serpentine air takes the little one on his shoulder helped by the old plump priest. He would take her home, in the cool, together with one of the nannies. The old priest accompanies him and at a distance follows the bevy of curious little ones up to the barracks where, outside, bent women wrapped in long Arab-like dresses are pounding in large mortars with cylindrical sticks, others are sieving herbs from one wooden tub to another, in the shadow of one of the others. The old man turns to them, gesticulates, one of the women hastily drops her stick, puts her hands to her head and runs following the train of little boys to the hut of the little boy in the lead with the little one on his back.
The tallest strides forward and opens the door for his friend who can thus enter in complete tranquillity. Then he spreads his arms and raises them, grim, raises his voice as usual, shakes his head with his backcombed hair:
"The show is over!" he announces in his usual dismissive manner "Go home!"
The woman enters the house together with the old man and the door closes in front of the big boy's back. A chorus of disappointment rises from the group of curious young people and then gradually disperses.
The dark-skinned boy tampons the door, sitting cross-legged in front of it, scowling like a mastiff.
Meanwhile the little one is laid down on the poor bed. After looking at her for a while, the woman asks the boy asking him to prepare a basin of warm water to wash her, in the meantime she takes off her clothes wrapping her in her gray sari.
The boy runs into a room, activates a lever mechanism and by pushing it enough water comes out to fill, with another three pushes, the wooden basin. The woman can wash the little one and dress her in the boy's clean clothes (a T-shirt, shorts), putting her back on the miserable bed. The little girl is muttering something, she is tired, red, hot, has a lot of fever; the small chest rises and falls uncertainly, shaken by the palpitations of a small heart that marches like crazy making even her breath tremble.
"Phinks" the old woman says kindly "You have to go to the infirmary to get some medicine for fever and asthma. Understood? You have to hurry or it will get worse soon!"
The boy nods and goes out, stopping at the door next to the friend sitting there.
"So?" Uvogin asks him with his usual impatience, standing up.
"It's terrible. We have to go find some medicine in the infirmary. And we must hurry up."
"Damn..." the older mumbles, frowning.
Phinks from the bottom of his stature contracts his face in a bitter and shy expression.
"Uvo, you... Would you accompany me?"
The older boy rubs the back of his neck, looking dubious.
"The infirmary is in the southeast area, on foot it takes at least 4 hours to get there and back!"
"On foot, perhaps. With the bike it takes much less!" the blond boy replies hopefully.
Uvo is speechless, bends over him and scrutinizes him disturbingly.
"And since when can a dumbass like you ride a motorcycle?"
"Look Who's Talking!" he replies offended, then smiles with those snake eyes of his
"Remember last summer, when I was always late to games and I was always at Harashi's workshop? He gave me a hand, he taught me!"
Uvo nods and smiles, his grim face as his natural expression.
"That explains why there hasn't been a while when you've arrived on time. You could have told me, I avoided to almost kill you with punches, I would have understood, I like motorbikes too. So where would this 'rocked' be?"

Jealously kept in a shack closed by a large padlock was the "rocket".
The two walk briskly in front of the shack, Phinks grabs the key hanging from his neck and snaps the padlock three times, pulls the tangled chain around the rusty handles and opens the creaky doors under the astonished eyes of the older boy. he.
He advances a few steps and in the center of the barrack a tarpaulin is covering something.
The blond boy reaches out and discovers a very cobbled naked made up of various parts deriving from various types of motorcycles, mostly chromed and so shiny that they shine.
It is a derelict, but a beautiful derelict with a poor but dignified appearance.
"TA-DAAH! Here is my Silver Fury!"
Uvogin turns around the two-wheeler, scrolling with one hand, amazed, the bodywork, the leather seat, a beaver tail, the shiny and incredibly swollen wheels, the chrome, the brakes (something never seen, since to brake on a bike, always, everyone had to do it with their heels). Obviously the little fireball is big enough for Phinks but being the only resource faster than their legs, it could be fine and he could be there too - crumpling his legs -.
"However...!" the boy murmurs in surprise
He leans his head over the front wheel and his eyes widen.
"Hey, dwarf! Where did you get the brakes?"
"Remember last month, they dumped some wreckage from an accident? There was also the casing of a practically new bike, Harashi took the whole piece with the brakes and built the rest around that. But we are wasting time! We need to get this thing rolling and get to the infirmary right now!"
Uvo scrutinizes him, frowning from his height of one meter seventy.
"Do you know how to drive it too?"
Phinks grits his teeth in haste and embarrassment.
"I... I did some tests up and down the hills, I'm learning, but..." the blond boy says, a bit recalcitrant "I haven't gone so fast since..."
"I drive." the other huffs hurriedly, takes the keys from his hand and gets in
"Mount up, quick."
With a leap and a confused expression, the blond boy is on the back of the saddle without even thinking about it, while the older one settles in the driving seat by inserting the keys.
While the eldest settles down, the bike bounces on the rudimentary - but functional - suspensions; clicks tongue, frowns, looks annoyed, looks down one way and then the other.
"Holy shit, Phinks, what the hell, you're real a dwarf!"
Phinks lowers his lids in annoyance.
"It's a bike for a NORMAL boy of my age, genius!! You're the one who's abnormal!"
"BLAH BLAH BLAH... Shut the fuck up and hold you on!"
"Yes, to your sister." the blond replies impertinently.
"If I had it, I wouldn't even let you look at it, dwarf."
Phinks laughs heartily, securing his heels to the two rubber-coated metal footrests.
"Come on, I'll drive, it's useless pretending to be cool!" Phinks presses impatiently, voice shaky, patting him on the shoulder hard.
"We won't go very fast but it's still better than on foot."
Uvo doesn't answer, he adjusts the goggles hanging from the handlebars on his bronze face.
Phinks silently follows her movements with growing anxiety.
"Come on, get off! If we've never seen you driving in our lives and we're all together all the time can you explain to me how you're going to..."
A kick on the pedal, the motor rumble and the two are already at full speed on the dirt road, hurtling towards the infirmary.
Phinks, partly due to the recoil due to the shot, partly due to surprise, has wide eyes and is speechless, quickly clings to his friend's shirt, stiff and frightened.
"WHAT-!?"
"I told you to hold on!!" Uvo's voice rumbles above that of the engine.
With an accelerating turn, pivoting with one foot on the ground, Uvo changes direction and takes off at full throttle in a South-East direction.

At the speed with which the boy was going with his expert guide in only forty minutes they were in the district.
They dismount and walking the motorbike they set off towards the square. The district is quiet, there are a lot of nurses with their long long white dresses and their faces covered by a veil with a net in front of their faces; their clothing always amazed the boys: despite the unbearable heat those people dressed like that and sacrificed themselves to cure people and to give them relief with medical knowledge.
Near the square is the large infirmary, a large house with a sign in the shape of a cross painted red. The two boys exchange a look, nodding.
"I'm out, you go."
Phinks gathers courage and as he enters the bell above the wooden door rings.
A short figure, caparisoned in the same way as the other nurses, is intent on arranging a case of herbs under the counter, but the boy is too busy looking around curiously to notice her.
"Oh, welcome dear." greets a delicate elderly voice "What do you need?"
He naturally approaches and places his hands on the counter.
"I need fever medicine and quick!"
The figure behind the retina slowly straightens. He leans out and notices from the glass of the door Uvogin leaning on the motorbike, from behind, his arms folded to observe the passers-by.
"You are not from here. Where are you from, boy?"
Phinks lowers his eyes, swallows. He stamps his foot repeatedly, snorts but makes an effort to answer respectfully.
"From the North West ward, ma'am."
"Oh" the elderly voice marvels "You've had quite a journey to get here. Don't you also have an infirmary?"
"I was told to come here and I came with my friend." the boy cut short "A friend of ours is sick, if the Nannies or the Adults had had a cure we certainly wouldn't have wasted coming here in this heat."
A slight sigh resembles that of a smile.
"What's wrong with the little girl?" flutes the old woman's voice, searching the shelf behind her.
"What happened to her?"
Phinks scratches his head and rolls his eyes to the side.
"Well, I honestly don't know..." he replies thoughtfully "We were working on the summer cinema when..."
"Oh that's right! Of all the surrounding districts, you are the only one with a projector! What a nice thing."
"Yes, but the point is that Mayumi fell on the floor! So, out of nowhere, unconscious!" he continues annoyed "She was all sweaty, the mother of the nannies and the father took her to my house because it was the closest, they told me to come here. It was hot."
The figure under the white burqa broods.
"In that case..." she adds thoughtfully, extending her arm. The soft fabric reveals a wrinkled, aged skin, white as milk. He takes a vial and puts it on the counter in front of the boy's nose.
"This should be fine. Make sure you keep it cold until you give it to him. Pour five drops into a glass of pure water."
The blond opens his eyes.
"WHAT? "COLD"? But do you know how many degrees it is out there?"
"If the medicine doesn't stay cool it won't work. Its active ingredients would cook and it would only be a bitter liquid to be swallowed without any properties. Do you have anything to carry it?"
"No!" the boy replies desperately "Aaah!!" she exclaims ruffling her hair "How can we do it?... Mayumi needs the medicine... Wait!"
Running towards the exit, the old woman's voice reaches him.
"And how are you going to pay for it?"
Phinks looks at her doubtfully.
"In what sense? What does it mean?"
"My dear boy" smiles under the fabric net the old woman "Everything in this world must be paid for to be obtained. Or at least exchanged for something else of equal value."
The boy fumbles in his pockets, shakes his head.
"We don't use money. We have none, neither do I, I think not even my friend and I don't think even our people. How much money does it cost?"
"It would cost 500 Jenny. That's a lot of money for those who don't have any."
"And without money, can't you get something you need? Not even if the person in question is likely to die? What the fuck is this world? It's a stupid system!" Phinks complains.
The woman, evidently touched by his speech, bends her head over the bottle which she holds in her thin and weak hands.
"In that case an exchange would be welcome." he replies with a sigh "I will accept anything you can get me."
The boy nods and grabs the door handle.
"You work with herbs, don't you?"
"Of course, I make medicine out of it."
"Then wait here. I'll be back asap."
He closes the door behind him, leaving the figure in white to stare out.