Snow Day

Larry Appleton blinked in the darkness and wondered what it was that had awakened him.  The room was silent - - perhaps it had been a feeling rather than a sound.  To settle his mind more than his thirst he quietly crept out of bed and padded to the kitchen for a drink, taking care not to disturb his cousin, Balki Bartokomous, who was asleep on the sofa bed in the living room.

As he sipped his juice in the darkness he heard rustling and a soft sigh from the area of the couch.  A protective feeling washed over him, fueled no doubt by the reminder that he was not alone, and had not been for the last several months since Balki’s arrival in America.  He moved toward the couch, allowing himself a small smile at the sight of the dark hair splayed over the rumpled pillow.  His cousin represented a curious combination of age-old wisdom and childlike spontaneity, and his presence in the apartment had turned Larry’s ordered world upside down.

More and more Larry found himself opening up to and at ease with Balki, allowing him closer than he’d been able to admit anyone before.  And especially at times like this his heart soared when he thought of just how far Balki had come in the last few months, and he was proud that he had been a part of it.

Balki tossed restlessly on the sofabed, turning his head to the other side of the pillow.  He murmured softly as if he were having a bad dream.

Larry debated for a moment, then reached down and touched Balki’s arm lightly.  "Balki . . . Balki, wake up."

Balki started slightly, then slowly opened his eyes.  "Cousin?"  He sat up sleepily.  "What’s wrong?"

Larry sat down on the edge of the bed.  "You tell me.  It sounded like you were having a bad dream."

Balki pushed the hair back off his forehead.  "I don’t . . . think so . . . I can’t remember anything . . . .  Did I yell?"

Larry smiled.  "No, not at all.  I came out to get a drink and you were tossing and turning.  I just wanted to make sure you were all right."

Balki nodded.  "I’m okay, Cousin, thank you."  He lay back down and pulled the covers up over one arm.

"Cold?"

"A little."

"I’ll get you another blanket and you can go back to sleep, okay?"

"Okay."

Larry flicked on the light which rested on the end table next to the couch, then disappeared into his room to procure the extra quilt.  As he pulled it from the top shelf of his closet it occurred to him that Balki had been unusually quiet that afternoon and evening, and Larry wondered if something was bothering his cousin.

Returning to the living room he shook the quilt open and spread it over Balki.  He straightened up and smiled. "Better?"

Balki nodded.  "Much better, thank you."

Larry reached down to turn off the light, then hesitated for a second.  "Um . . . Balki . . . "

Balki looked up at him but did not speak.

"Is . . . is something . . . bothering you?"

Balki shook his head slightly.  "Not really."

"What do you mean, not really?" Larry left the light on and sat down again.  "You can tell me . . . maybe I can help."

"Oh, no, Cousin, it’s really nothing at all," Balki’s voice trailed off and he shrugged his shoulders.  "Just . . . nothing . . . "

"Balki, what?"

"I guess I’m just a little bit homesick, that’s all.  I . . . miss my family."

"Well, I think that’s perfectly understandable.  Is it someone’s birthday, maybe?"

"No.  I don’t know why I feel like this . . . just since this afternoon I feel this way."  He passed a hand tiredly over his eyes.  "Cousin, could you turn off the light?  It makes my eyes burn."

"The light hurts your eyes?"

At Balki’s nod, Larry reached down and felt his cousin’s forehead.  "No wonder you’re feeling bad, Balki, you’ve got a temperature."

"I do?"

"You sure do.  Does anything hurt besides your eyes?"

Balki shook his head.  "No."

Larry reached over and felt Balki’s warm forehead a second time.  "Well, you’re definitely warm.  You must be coming down with something."

"Coming down from where?"

"No, Balki, that’s just an expression . . . " Larry shook his head.

"Of course it is," murmured Balki sleepily, "What does it mean?"

"Well, it’s . . . it means you’ve got a fever, and maybe you’re getting sick," Larry explained patiently.  "You’re sure nothing hurts?"

"No, cousin, nothing.  Why don’t you go back to bed?  I’m okay."  Balki smiled up at his American cousin.  "Really."

Larry looked unconvinced.  "All right.  But let me get you a couple of aspirin and a drink of juice first."  He patted Balki’s arm then moved quickly to the kitchen.  When he returned he held out two tablets and a glass of juice.

Balki propped himself up on an elbow and downed the pills with a small sip before handing the glass back to Larry.  "Thank you.  Now you go back to bed, okay?"

"Okay."  Larry pulled the covers tighter over his cousin.  "Good night, Balki."

*********************************

Early the next morning Larry tiptoed to the living room to check on his cousin.  Finding Balki still sound asleep, he quietly showered and dressed for work.  He was pouring himself a cup of coffee when Balki appeared at his elbow.

"Cousin, why you didn’t wake me?  We’re going to be late for work."

Larry laid his free hand lightly on Balki’s forehead.  "You’ve still got a fever, Balki, how about calling in sick today?"

"No, I couldn’t do that," Balki protested, shaking his head.  "I’m fine, and I - - "

"Balki, I think you should take the day off - - "

"No, cousin, because - - "

Larry set his coffee cup down and turned Balki around by the shoulders.  He propelled him back to the sofabed and pushed him down.  "Sit.  And don’t argue.  You just stay home and rest today.  I’ll tell Mr. Twinkacetti for you, and I’ll come up and check on you at lunch."

Balki made a face.  "This is silly."

Larry pulled the covers up around him.  "Just take the day off, watch some T.V.  I’ll make you some tea and toast before I go, all right?"

"I’m not hungry."

"Well, you’ve got to have something."

"Just the tea, then, because I’m not hungry.  And I can make it myself."  Balki tried to get up again but Larry held him down.  He looked up with an embarrassed smile.  "Or you could get it for me."

*********************************

The snow had begun lightly at first, a flurry that Larry scarcely noticed out of the corner of his eye as he waited on customers in the Ritz Discount Store.  Throughout the morning, however, the storm’s cadence had quickened, until even Mr. Twinkacetti was forced to admit defeat by weather and allowed Larry to close the store at noon.

An hour later Larry bounded up the steps to the apartment, juggling two grocery bags from the corner market as he fumbled with his keys.  As the door swung open to reveal the living room, Larry squinted his eyes as they adjusted to the darkness of the apartment, shades drawn, illuminated only by the flickering of the television set.  Balki lay on his side dozing, so Larry quietly closed the door and took his bags to the kitchen, planning to let his cousin sleep as long as he could.

Before long, however, Balki sat up and Larry moved to the side of the bed.  "Cousin, why you are home?" he yawned.  "What time is it?"

"It’s a little after one and it’s snowing like crazy.  We closed the store early."  He sat down as Balki moved over to allow him some room.  "How are you feeling?"

"Okay.  Was Mr. Twinkacetti mad?"

"No more than usual.  He was more upset by the weather - - he was sure that we were going to have an afternoon rush of customers today."

"But we never have an afternoon rush of customers any day."

"True.  Have you been asleep all morning?"

"Mostly.  I think.  How long have you been home?"

"About ten minutes.  I ran down to the market to get a few things after I closed the store.  I bought a thermometer."

"So we’ll know how cold out it is?"

Larry smiled.  "No, so we’ll know how warm you are.  And I bought everything I need to make mom’s Snow Day stew."

"Snow Day stew?  What that is?"

"When I was a kid we used to get these great blizzards every winter . . . usually we’d get out of school early, or maybe there wouldn’t be school at all . . . "  Larry’s eyes grew dreamy as he continued.  "Anyhow, my mom had this rule that a snow day should be a holiday for everyone so," he paused to glance out the window, "so she’d start this pot of stew early in the morning, and it’d simmer all day and we’d all go out and play in the snow . . . "

"Your mama too?" Balki asked shyly.

"Especially my mom!  She built the best snow forts of anyone on our block!  Anyhow, I’d usually have to go in the house a couple of times to thaw out after Elaine put snow down my back . . . or washed my face in the snow . . . or . . . hid my gloves . . . "  His eyebrows knitted together and he clenched his fists.

Balki grinned.  "Let it go, Cousin . . . "

Larry sighed.  "Okay.  But every time I’d go near the kitchen all day it’d smell warm and good and . . . safe."  He smiled down at Balki, and shrugged his shoulders.  "So I . . . thought if you weren’t feeling well, maybe . . . I could make the stew and cheer you up."

"Oh, Cousin . . . . " Balki said, touched, "that’s really nice . . . thank you."  He squeezed Larry’s wrist.  "I’m feeling better, a little.  Can I help you?"

"Sure.  Put your robe on and I’ll light a fire in the fireplace, all right?"

*********************************

"That was wonderful, Cousin."  Balki pushed the bowl away and smiled at Larry.  "You’ll have to tell your mama how much I liked her snowball stew."

"Snow Day.  And you didn’t eat very much."

"I’m sorry - - I’m just not very hungry."  Balki turned away and coughed chestily.

"Ah ha!" Larry exclaimed, eyes gleaming.

Balki jumped.  "What ‘ah ha’?"

"A symptom!  You’re coughing!  That’s great!"

"Yes!" Balki grinned.  "Wonderful!"  He bit his lip.  "Cousin . . . why is that wonderful?  It don’t feel wonderful."

"I didn’t mean to sound like a crazy person, sorry.  But it’s hard to take care of somebody when you don’t know what’s wrong with them."

Balki laid a hand on Larry’s shoulder.  "Oh, Cousin, there’s nothing wrong with you.  You’re a little high strung, true, but . . . "

"Balki!"

Balki jumped and widened his eyes.

Larry struggled to regain his composure, taking deep cleansing breaths.  "I . . . called Susan earlier.  She’s working tonight, at the hospital, because, as you know, she is a nurse," he began in a strained, clipped voice.

"Yes, I know that," Balki began, before being silenced with a look from his cousin.

"And she said . . . oh, forget it."  Larry massaged a temple.  He was never a winner in Bartokomous Language Tag, he never would be a winner, he wasn’t quite sure why he bothered but he always thought that somehow he’d break through.  But he never did, and all he ever got out of it was a headache.  "Just . . . . forget it," he said with an irritated shake of his head.  "Do you want anything else?"

Balki looked puzzled.  "Did I . . . do something wrong?"  He blinked several times.  "I’m sorry . . . "

Larry looked over at him, wishing he hadn’t lost his temper so quickly.  "No, Balki, no, I’m the one who’s sorry.  You didn’t do anything."  He pulled Balki to his feet again and began leading him back to the couch.  "Come on, let’s get you settled for the night.  What you need now is some sleep."

Balki allowed himself to be led, but frowned worriedly as they reached the couch.  "I’m sorry that I make so much trouble for you, Cousin."

"Balki, no," Larry began helplessly, "It’s no trouble.  I was just worried about you.  You never get sick.  It’s usually me."  He reconsidered for a moment.  "No, it’s always me."  He pulled the covers up, tucking them carefully around Balki and grinned down at him.  "Come to think of it, you’ll probably end up giving this to me, so I’d better get you well fast."

*********************************

"Cousin?"

Larry snapped awake, startled when he realized that Balki was bending over him, whispering his name.

"Balki, what is it?  What’s wrong?"

"I’m sorry to wake you, Cousin, I didn’t want to, but I’m trying and trying to get warm and I can’t."

Larry could hear his cousin’s teeth chattering in the darkness.  He reached up and felt Balki’s forehead then laid the back of his hand along his cousin’s cheek.  "Oh my lord, Balki, you’re burning up."

"No, Cousin, I’m freezing."

"That’s from the fever. It must be going up.  Come on."  Larry took hold of Balki’s arm and started pushing him toward the door.  With his free hand he yanked the covers off his own bed, pulling them along behind him.  Halfway down the hall Balki stopped and doubled over, coughing deeply.

"Geez, Balki . . . "  Larry kept his hold on Balki’s arm but dropped the bedclothes and with his free hand rubbed Balki’s back until the coughs subsided.  "Okay now?" he asked gently.

Balki nodded, wiping his eyes.

Larry picked up the blankets and started guiding Balki toward the couch again.  "Come on."

Balki nodded again but didn’t answer, afraid to trust his voice.  He sat down slowly on the sofabed.

While Balki got settled under the covers Larry shook out the blankets from his own bed, which he then arranged on top of the ones already on the sofabed.  He could hear the wind blowing icy snowflakes against the windows.  He looked back down at Balki who was burrowing under the layers of covers.

"Is that any better?"

"M-m-much, Cousin, thank you.  Why you don’t go back to bed?"

"Yeah, I will in a minute.  I was just thinking about having some hot chocolate.  Would you like some?"

"Yeah, sure, but . . . "

"I think it’d taste good right about now, and maybe warm both of us up a little.  You just stay here and get warm - - I’ll be right back."

Larry hurried to the kitchen, poured milk into a saucepan, and took down two mugs from the cupboard.  He’d thought of the cocoa as a means to help Balki warm up, but it actually sounded pretty good to him as well.  While the milk was heating he popped into his bedroom to retrieve his own bathrobe.

Balki sat up and accepted the hot mug gratefully.  He wrapped his fingers around its warmth and allowed the steam to waft into his face.  Finally he took a sip.  "This really hits the place, Cousin."

"Spot."

"Spot," he smiled shyly.  "I mean it tastes good."

"I’m glad.  I hope it’ll help you get back to sleep."

When Balki had finished he handed the mug back to Larry and slid back down under his cocoon of blankets.  Larry was wide awake, so he opted to sit in the chair by the fireplace and read.  The fire had long since died down but the hot embers still glowed in the low light of the room.

After a few moments Balki dozed off and Larry allowed himself to relax and become absorbed in his book.  It seemed like only a moment later that he was waking up.  He shook his head to throw off the mantle of sleep that surrounded him and to try and get his bearings.

Balki was sitting up in bed, coughing as before.  He struggled for breath and Larry leapt to his side. "Balki . . . "

Balki held up a hand.  "No, Cousin, I’m okay . . . "  He cleared his throat carefully.  "I really am . . . "

"Well you don’t sound okay," Larry said, running a hand through his hair.  "That cough’s getting worse.  I’m going to see if we have any cough medicine."

Balki made a face.  "But I hate that stuff."

"That means it’s good for you, Balki.  Things that are good for you always taste awful.  It’s a rule."

Balki shivered and pulled the covers up higher.  "Well it’s a stupid rule."

Larry sighed in frustration.  "And you’re still cold?"

"Yeah, a little . . . "

"Okay . . . hang on a minute 'til I get the cough syrup, then we’ll work on getting you warm."  He shuffled quickly to the bathroom, returning with the bottle and a spoon he had grabbed from the kitchen drawer.

Balki sat up and reluctantly downed the red liquid, shuddering as it went down.  "Tastes like babasticki," he murmured, trying to get the covers around himself again.

Larry looked down at him for a moment, undecided, then nudged Balki with his knee.  "Move over, Balki, I’m coming in."

"What?"

"I said, move over, I’m coming in.  Have to get you warm somehow or you’ll never get to sleep."

Balki nodded and moved over slowly to make room for his cousin.  Larry slid under the covers next to, and up against, Balki.  He could feel Balki shivering uncontrollably despite the layers of blankets over him.  Balki turned away from Larry, leaning into the curve of his body, and Larry, after a moment’s hesitation, wrapped his arm tightly around his cousin.  Eventually he felt Balki relax into a drowsy warmth, and soon thereafter, from the deep and even breaths, Larry knew that Balki was asleep.  He considered taking his arm back, but was afraid that even this slight movement might wake Balki.  Instead he leaned in closer, resting his cheek against Balki’s back, and allowed himself to drift into sleep.

*********************************

When Larry awoke the room was still dark but he could tell that it was morning from the muffled sounds of the city below.  His arm still rested snugly over Balki, and he could feel the heat radiating from his cousin’s body.  He pulled away slightly to ease the cramping in his arm and was surprised to see that Balki was also awake.

Larry leaned up on one elbow.  "Good morning.  How long have you been awake?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Not long, maybe half an hour.  I try not to move so I won’t bother you."

"No, you should’ve gotten me up."

"I didn’t want to.  I have been enough trouble to you already."

Larry sighed.  "Stop it, Balki, you’re no trouble."  He slid from the sofabed, noting that Balki moved over immediately to occupy the warm spot where he had been.  "I’m going to get some coffee and I’ll be right back.  Do you want anything?"

Balki shook his head.

Larry stretched his sore muscles as he padded toward the window.  He pulled the curtains aside and peered out into the early morning gray.  The snow still fell silently, giving the city a soft, gentle feeling.  Traffic moved below, but slowly, and the headlights of the few cars on the street glowed icily in the already fallen snow.  Larry shivered and allowed the curtain to fall back into place.

He glanced over at Balki who was attempting to muffle a harsh series of coughs.  He felt frustrated by his inability to help his cousin.  Probably a visit to the doctor was in order, but between the unpredictable weather and the fact that it was Saturday he doubted that an appointment would be easy to come by.  He thought of calling Susan again, but decided to wait until later, as she would most likely still be asleep after her late shift at the hospital.

As he started to the kitchen to make the coffee Larry thought he heard a knock at the door.  He pulled on his robe quickly and went to answer it.  He opened the door tentatively, still not sure if he’d heard correctly, just in time to see Susan retreating down the hallway.  "Susan," he whispered loudly.

She turned around and smiled.  "Oh, you are up.  I had to work a double shift last night because of the storm," she explained as she followed him back into the apartment, "I just got home and I wanted to see how Balki was but I didn’t want to wake up if you guys were asleep."

Larry grinned, relieved to have someone with whom to share the responsibility.  "Glad you’re here," he said softly, leaning in close for the next sentence.  "He’s awake, but he sounds just awful, and he’s running a fairly high fever, I think."  He straightened up and spoke louder.  "Balki, look, Susan’s here."

Balki smiled shyly, struggling to sit up, embarrassed at his indisposition.  "Hi, Susan, how are you?"

"I’m fine, Balki, but how are you?"  She sat down on the edge of the bed and felt his forehead.  "Larry says you feel pretty bad."

"Not too bad," Balki lied.  "I feel okay."

Susan smiled tenderly at him, then turned her gaze to Larry.  "Would you get me a thermometer and a cool washcloth, please, Larry?"

"Sure," Larry said, glad to be relieved of his charge for the moment.  "Be right back.  You want some coffee, Susan?"

"That’d be nice," she answered, "and how about a cup of tea for Balki?"  She looked down at her patient.  "Think you could drink that, sweetie?" she asked.

Within minutes Susan had the bed straightened, Balki freshened up and tucked back in snugly, and the thermometer firmly in place.  When it beeped she removed it from Balki’s mouth and handed him his cup of tea.  "A hundred and two," she announced, glancing at Larry.  "Very impressive."  She smiled down at Balki again.  "Now drink your tea and," she unzipped her purse and pulled out a bottle of pills, "take two of these."

Balki popped the pills into his mouth and gulped a few mouthfuls of tea.  "What are these, anyway, Susan?"

"Penicillin.  This is a sample bottle - - we get them in the office all the time.  They’ll make you feel better, I promise."  She set her coffee cup down on the end table and began gathering her things to go.  "Really, Larry, I think he’s got just a bad case of the flu, maybe a touch of bronchitis."  She patted his arm comfortingly.  "You’re doing great with him - - just keep it up.  Keep him warm, lots of liquids, lots of sleep . . . make sure he takes the medicine."

"That’s it?"

"That’s it.  And I’ll be upstairs if you need me.  Until three, that is - - I have to go back to the hospital."

"Okay."  He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.  "Thanks for everything."

"You’re welcome.  Call me later.  Bye, Balki."

"Bye bye, Susan."

Larry refilled his coffee mug and started a fire in the fireplace before returning to sit on the edge of the sofabed.

Balki lifted up the edge of the covers.  "Why you don’t come back in?  It’s warmer in here."

Larry smiled.  "Okay . . . why not?"  He set his coffee down on the end table and settled back in under the covers.  "You want to watch TV or something?"

Balki sipped at his tea slowly.  "No, thanks, Cousin, I . . . don’t want to watch anything.  But you can turn it on if you want.

Larry shook his head.  "No, that’s okay.  It’s been years since I’ve picked up Oliver Twist - - I’d just as soon keep reading it, and anyway, you should try to rest some more."

"I don’t think I can sleep.  I keep dreaming about home and feeling upset every time I close my eyes."

"Upset?  Why upset?  You mean homesick like you were the other night?"

"Yeah . . . I keep remembering the first time I was allowed to tend Papa’s sheep in the night."

"Why don’t you tell me about it?" Larry asked softly.  "Maybe it’ll make you feel better."

"Maybe," Balki said doubtfully.  "Well, in the springtime we often keep the sheep in the meadows for the night, instead of bringing them home like during the winter rains."  He paused to cough and take another sip of tea.  "We do this because . . . the sheep like the cool nights out in the open field, and when they have their lamb they are happier there than in the closed barns."

Larry turned on his side, propping his head up on his hand.  "Go on."

"My Papa . . .  He loves me, but he is very busy, and he is very strict with me because he wants me to be able to take over the sheep when I am old enough.  Sometimes he doesn’t speak to me much, except to tell me what I do wrong, because he wants me to do the best that I can and to be strong, and because he is tired from too much working."

"My dad is kind of like that, too.  I think it goes with the territory."

"Finally, one night, when I am fifteen, my Papa tells me that at last I am old enough, and he will give me a chance to tend the sheep for the night with the rest of the men.  I feel dizzy and my head hurts, but I . . . suppose it is because I am so excited.  Then I later realize I am sick, but I so much want my Papa to be proud that I said nothing and took my place on the hillside.  I feel cold and so tired, but there’s nothing to be done.  Because I know that I must look after my flock."  Balki lay back and closed his eyes.  "The next thing I knew my Papa was carrying me to the house, back to Mama and Aunt Sophia.  I thought he would be angry with me but . . . he hugged me tightly and pulled my cloak around me, then he tell me he is proud to be the father of such a brave boy - - "  Balki’s voice broke and trailed off.  He blinked quickly and surreptitiously wiped at his eyes.  "I do miss him.  I miss him a lot."

"I know you do, Balki, I know you do," said Larry gently, squeezing his cousin’s arm.  "I miss my family, too."

"Do you . . . " Balki blinked again and sniffled.  "Do you think I am only feeling this was because I’m sick?"

"Yes, I do.  I think your guard is down, and you’re tired and lonesome.  And that’s perfectly natural."

"It is?"

"Yes.  And when your fever goes down and you’re feeling better, I think you’ll be happy again.  In fact, I’m sure you will."

Balki sighed wistfully.  "I hope so, Cousin, because this is really being in drag."

Larry hid a smile.  "Being A drag, Balki, being IN drag is . . . something else."

"Oh . . . " B alki took a sip of his tea and rested the mug on his chest.

"Are you hungry?  Would you like something to eat?"

Balki turned his head away and coughed, holding the mug away slightly so the contents wouldn’t spill.  "No, thank you, Cousin, I’m not hungry.  The tea is great.  Is there honey in here?"

Larry nodded.  "Mm hm.  My mom always used to put honey in our tea when we were sick.  Does it taste okay?"

Balki smiled and took another sip.  "I like it.  It’s nice and sweet.  Is it still snowing?"

"It was about an hour ago."

Balki pushed the covers aside and stood up.  "I want to see."

"No, Balki," Larry said, reaching across the bed to grab Balki’s arm, "I think you should stay in bed where it’s warm."

"Just for a minute, please?" Balki looked down at Larry sadly, "I love the snow so much, and I feel like I’m missing it."

"Balki, it’s only January.  This is Chicago.  You’ll be seeing plenty of snow."  Larry sighed, giving up.  "At least put on your bathrobe."

"Okay."  Balki picked up his robe from the foot of the bed and put it on.

Larry rose from his side of the bed and walked around to where Balki was standing.  "And slippers too," he said, pointing at Balki’s feet.

Balki pulled up the shade and the two cousins stood for a long time looking out on the winter panorama that lay below them.  "It’s so beautiful, isn’t it, Cousin?"

Larry shivered and pulled his own robe tighter.  "It’s so cold."  He looked at Balki and smiled, relenting.  "It is pretty, you’re right."

Balki leaned on the windowsill watching the swirling snowflakes as they fell.  Although it was midmorning, the sky was still darkened with thick heavy clouds, and the storm showed no sign of abating.  Balki traced a pattern with his finger that the accumulating flakes had made on the outside of the window.  "Before I come to America I read about snow in books, but I never imagined it would be this wonderful."

Larry smiled to himself as he remembered that the first time Balki had ever even seen snow had been on Christmas Eve a month before.  "By April you’ll be as tired of it as someone who’s lived here a lifetime."

"Oh, no, no I won’t.  Never," Balki replied, not taking his eyes from the window.  "I’ll never be tired of this."

Balki sneezed twice and shivered and Larry wrapped an arm around his shoulders.  "Bless you.  And you’re going back to bed now."  Balki didn’t protest as Larry led him back to the couch and tucked him in warmly.  "Now you’re going to have to get warm all over again," he said, shaking his head.  Larry arranged the blankets carefully over his cousin.

Balki looked up at him gratefully.  "Thank you, Cousin."

"For what?" asked Larry, honestly surprised.

"For taking such good care of me."

Larry shook his head.  "You don’t have to thank me.  You’d do the same for me," he said, and after a pause, "you have done the same for me.  That’s what friends do."

"Then you are a good friend, Cousin Larry," Balki said solemnly.  Balki put both hands up to his mouth and coughed harshly.

Larry shook his head helplessly.  He had never before felt such responsibility toward another human being, had never understood how feeling someone else’s discomfort could be worse than being in pain himself.  He wondered if perhaps this was how a parent might feel, tending to a sick child.  The strange thing was that although he tried hard and liked to feel that he was looking after Balki most of the time, and tried to help him assimilate to life in a new country, just as often he felt as if Balki was taking care of him.  Balki was always the one to think about the shopping and the laundry.  And when Larry was feeling upset about his career or about Jennifer Lyons, the girl who lived upstairs, somehow Balki’s innate wisdom seemed to kick in and make everything seem all right again.  Of course, between the fractured English and Balki’s own roundabout thought processes it sometimes took a while, but it usually turned out that Balki was right.

Balki coughed again, and Larry pulled himself from his reverie.  "You sound terrible."

"I can’t help it."  Balki laid a hand on his chest.  "Everything feels . . . tight."

Larry snapped his fingers.  "That’s it!"

"What’s what?" Balki asked, puzzled.

Larry touched Balki’s chest lightly.  "We need to loosen this up."

"This doesn’t involve cutting, does it?" said Balki suspiciously.

Larry grinned.  "Well of course it doesn’t, don’t be ridiculous."

*********************************

Larry exhaled noisily and pushed a few damp strands of hair off his forehead.  He glanced around the bathroom which was filling up with steam both from the hot water that was running into the tub and the small humidifier he had set up on the floor in the corner.  "Wait ‘til Mr. Twinkacetti sees his hot water bill," he said with a smile.

"Do you think we’d better turn it off?" Balki asked anxiously.  Balki sat on the closed lid of the toilet seat.  He was clad only in his pajama bottoms, and the large fluffy towel that Larry had draped around his shoulders.

"No way.  You’re going to sit in here for another fifteen minutes or so.  Twinkacetti can afford it.  Inhaling all of this steam is going to make you feel better."

Balki quickly reached around behind him to grab a handful of tissues from the box on the sink and sneezed several times.  "Well it’s making my nose run, that’s for sure," he said, almost immediately dissolving into a series of deep, croupy coughs.

Larry rubbed Balki’s back gently with one hand, at the same time handing Balki another tissue so that he could dab at his eyes.  "You all right?"

Balki nodded.  He looked up at the streams of perspiration on his cousin’s forehead.  "You look like a drowned bat.  You don’t have to stay in here with me."

"S’okay," Larry shrugged.  "Maybe I’ll sweat off a couple of pounds.  He opened the door and stuck his head out into the hallway, taking a quick gulp of cool, dry air, then quickly shut the door again before any of the steam escaped the tiny bathroom, or Balki caught a draft.  "That’s better," he sighed, wiping his forehead again.

They made little conversation over the next several minutes, Balki coughing almost continuously, and Larry wondering nervously if somehow he had made things worse.  Larry continued patting Balki’s back and decided to himself that he would never, ever want to live in a humid tropical climate.  Finally the bronchial spasms began to ease off and Larry wiped Balki’s face with a cool washcloth.  "I think that’s enough, Balki.  You ready to get out of here?"

At Balki’s drowsy nod, he shut off the running water and pulled the plug on the humidifier.  He helped Balki on with a clean pajama top, then held out Balki’s robe, pulling it snugly across his cousin’s chest.  He opened the bathroom door, sighing in relief at the blast of cool air that wafted into his face.  "Let’s get you back to bed now," he said, tugging on Balki’s sleeve.

Balki followed Larry to the sofabed, peeled off his robe and slid down between the clean sheets with which Larry had made the bed before joining Balki was in the bathroom.  Balki stretched and yawned.  "I never thought sitting in a bathroom doing nothing could make me so sleepy," he said.

"Sleep is the best thing for you," Larry replied, "and heaven knows you haven’t gotten too much over the last couple of days."  He handed Balki two aspirins, one of the pills that Susan had brought, and a glass of juice to wash them down.  When Balki had swallowed them, Larry poured a tablespoonful of cough syrup and Balki dutifully opened his mouth, although he could not resist making a face as it went down.

"Next time we’ll get the cherry flavored kind," Larry promised.

"Okay," Balki smiled.

Larry reached down and felt Balki’s forehead.  "You’re still so warm, I wish your fever would go down."

"I do too, but I feel better a little since you got me steamed.  It doesn’t hurt as much when I cough, and my head doesn’t feel so stuffed up."  He yawned again.  "It’s just that I’m so tired all of a sudden and the bed feels so good . . . "

"Just get comfortable and close your eyes."

Balki turned over onto his side and allowed his eyelids to flutter closed, and Larry reached down and smoothed the damp and tousled hair from Balki’s forehead.  "You get some rest," he said softly, "I’ll be right here."

As exhausted as he was, Balki fell asleep almost immediately.  Quietly Larry went to his room and pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.  He made himself a sandwich, then straightened up the apartment.  Satisfied that there was nothing more he could do, Larry stood by the window for a long time watching the snow which had begun to taper off.

Somehow things had changed over the last few days, although he wasn’t quite sure how.  He had only left his parents’ home the previous spring to live on his own.  Until today, the apartment had felt more or less like a college dorm to him, a place to stay and play at being grown up, but all the while knowing that he could run back to Madison if he needed to, back to the security of his room, and with no real responsibilities other than holding down a job to pay his few bills and chasing his dream of someday being a photojournalist.

He turned slowly and looked around the apartment, his gaze lingering on Balki’s sleeping form.  Today he felt settled and secure.  He felt calm and in control.  The apartment felt like home.

Larry walked slowly to his cousin’s side. Balki was breathing deeply, and sleeping quietly, obviously more comfortable than he had been in days. Larry reached down and felt his forehead, a gesture which, over the past couple of days had become second nature to him. And he wasn’t even surprised to feel he coolness of Balki’s skin under his light touch. He had become so attuned to Balki’s rhythms that he’d realized from across the room that the fever had broken. He smiled and tucked the covers up under Balki’s chin.

Larry picked up his book from the end table and started to sit in the chair next to the fireplace.  Thinking better of it, he lay down on top of the covers on the unoccupied side of the sofabed, somehow needing to be close to Balki.  He was almost as tired as Balki had been, but couldn’t shake the habit of feeling that he should try to stay awake to watch over him.  He yawned, then tried to will himself awake.  "Maybe if I just close my eyes for a minute," he thought.

*********************************

Larry opened his eyes slowly and could tell by the glow of the streetlamps outside the window that it was evening.  He heard Balki sneeze softly, and sat up to see his cousin putting the milk bottle in the refrigerator.  "Bless you," Larry said sleepily.

Balki sniffled and walked quickly to Larry’s side.  "Oh, Cousin, I’m sorry I wake you up."

Larry blinked his eyes and stretched.  "You didn’t wake me.  Why are you out of bed?  How long have I been asleep?  You should have gotten me up."

"You were asleep when I woke up.  I knew you were tired from looking after me so I wanted you to sleep as long as you could."

"Well . . . that was nice.  Thanks.  How do you feel?"

"Better.  My eyes don’t hurt any more."

Larry sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.  "That’s because you don’t have a fever any more.  Or at least not much of one. It broke while you were asleep.  I think."

Balki held up his hand.  "Stay right there, Cousin."

"No, Balki," Larry said, "I want you to lie down and rest and I’m going to make you something to eat.  Are you hungry?"

"I’m starving."

Larry grinned.  "Well that’s great."  He patted the sofabed on Balki’s side.  "Come on and get into bed.  What would you like to eat?  Balki?"

Balki had run back to the kitchen and quickly returned with a tray.  He set it down, and Larry saw that there were heaping bowls of leftover Snow Day stew, bread, and large glasses of milk arranged neatly on it.  "Surprise, Cousin!" Balki said, laying a napkin on Larry’s lap with a flourish.  "And I made a cake for dessert."

For a moment Larry was speechless.  "Aw, Balki . . . " Larry shook his head and smiled at his cousin.  "You didn’t have to do this."

"Yes I did.  I want you to know how much I appreciate what you have done for me," Balki said solemnly.

"Balki, I didn’t do anything.  I gave you some cough medicine and took your temperature, that’s it."

"Cousin, it was more than that, and you know it.  You take care of me.  You stay up with me.  You make me realize that I don’t have to be homesick anymore because this is my home."

Larry blinked his eyes quickly, surprised to feel that they were wet.  "I’m glad you feel that way, Balki, I really am.  Because I feel the same way.  And I can’t think of anyone I’d rather share a home with than you."  He paused for a moment.  "Except maybe Jennifer."

Balki laughed softly, then reached down and pulled Larry into a hug.  After a long moment he pushed Larry away and looked at him, eyes twinkling.  "Yeah, but I’ll bet she hogs up the bathroom more than I do."

Larry reached up and tousled Balki’s hair then, as Balki sat down, handed him one of the glasses of milk from the tray.  Larry picked up his own glass, and held it out in the air.  "Happy Snow Day, Balki," he said, clinking Balki’s glass.

"Happy Snow Day, Cousin," Balki replied.

THE END