“No.” I shook my head defiantly. I refused to believe it. No, I didn’t at all believe it. Simple as that.

“Sir, this will only be harder for you if you deny its existence,” he said from behind that cowardly bird-beak mask of his.

“Shut up,” I insisted, turning away from the man. “Shut up and leave.” I turned again, and the man didn’t at all budge. “Go!” I demanded

“Sir, please, I can treat her. I can try to help,” he said persistently.

“We don’t need help! She doesn’t have the plague!” I cried.

“It’s not a death sentence!” he insisted, but he was lying. It was a death sentence, I knew for a fact. Everyone knew it meant death. “But by ignoring it, that’s exactly what you’re making it!” I glared at him.

“LEAVE!” I shouted at him, and he turned and skittered out in that oversized gown of his, leaving me just to stand there, stunned, raw. I assured myself all was okay, everything was fine, and shuffled off to her room.

“Fred,” she said almost the moment I appeared in the doorway, before I could regard her with a weary “Hello”.

“Hi.” I stared down at the dusty floor, not wanting to look at her speckled face.

“You sent him away, didn’t you?” she asked. I nodded sheepishly, and she considered this with a disapproving frown. “Oh, Freddie. You know he’s right.” I shook my head, unwilling to let go, not yet.

“No. You’re fine. He’s wrong.”

“We’ve seen four doctors, and they’ve all said the same thing.”

“They’re all wrong!” She sighed. I glanced up and could see the pain spread across her face, but couldn’t bring myself to look at her for more than a moment.

“He’s probably not too far up the path yet. Go get him, Frederick. Bring him back,” she said quietly. “Please.” I took a deep breath.

“Fine,” I promised, turning towards the door, chiding myself inwardly for being so foolish and weak. “I love you, Janie,” I whispered, and received a muffled “I love you, too,” from behind the wall.

I ran up the path, the only sound to break the crushing silence the sound of my feet slapping against the dirt as I scurried along. I saw nothing of the plague doctor who I’d shooed from my house moments ago. Frustrated, I stopped, listened to the silence.

“Hello!?” I called, hoping he might hear me. I was overjoyed when I heard a familiar voice echo me, and then, at the top of the hill, a familiar man appeared, his mask tucked under his arm. He was a ruddy man with copper hair to match. He froze at the top of the hill and frowned.

“You again!” he exclaimed, exasperated, and probably understandably so. “Now what do you want? To shout at me again?”

“No,” I replied, making sure I was loud enough for him to hear, but not so loud I frightened him. He took a few steps forward.

“Then what do you want?”

“I changed my mind. My wife wants you back.” I could swear I saw a smile flicker across his lips as he strolled towards me.

“Well, alright then,” he said to me, and we walked the rest of the way back to the house in silence, stopping only at the door for him to slip the stupid mask on.

He handed me a single rose, and when I regarded it questioningly, he rolled his eyes and explained that the flower’s scent would ward off the disease. I turned it over a couple of times in my hands, then sniffed it lightly. It smelt fresh. Then he disappeared into her room and I didn’t see him for hours, until he popped out just long enough to tell me I should go to sleep, get some rest. He apologized in advance for the fact that the next few days would be emotionally draining. My heart heavy, I tried to sleep, and I think I eventually did, because I woke up in bed with the slightest slivers of light cracking through the window. Groggily, I sat up, and then what’d happened the previous day just hit me, suddenly, square in the heart. Perturbed, I stumbled downstairs, pleased to find the doctor nowhere in sight. I pushed the door to Janie’s room open a peep, just enough to shimmy in, and closed it with a quiet creak. She was still asleep, so there was nothing for me to do but sit in the white stool beside her bed and accompany her. I noticed I still had the rose in my hand. I stroked it nervously.

“It’s you again,” a voice said, and I jumped. The doctor stood in the doorway.

“Hey!” I muttered. He cracked a slight smile. “What’re you going to do to her? Leeches?” I figured he’d do the leeches. That’s what all of the others offered to do.

“I suppose. I’ll also give her a dose of laxatives, and it’s important to make sure she drinks a lot of hot tea. Really, really hot tea,” he replied coolly.

“That’ll work? That’ll save her?” I asked hopefully.

“Well, don’t get your hopes up. No promises. But, hopefully, yeah, it’ll work. But we have to start working fast. She’s getting worse,” he stated, approaching slowly. “I see you still have the rose. Good. Now, I need you to go off, just for a little bit.”

“What?”

“Go into town. Buy some milk. I don’t know. Do something. ‘Kay?” Great, I was being banished from my own house. I skulked out of the room angrily and shuffled along the path back to town, where I did nothing but wander the streets until it started to get dark and I figured I had better get back home.

I got back to the house, and he told me he was sorry. Told me he tried everything he could. Told me she didn’t have much longer, she wasn’t going to make it through the night. Suddenly, the world died around me. Everything was dead and gone, and I wished I were, too. I ambled into the room in a trance. Janie looked at me and whispered my name faintly.

“Janie, don’t go,” I urged her. As if that was going to help, I told myself.

“It’s pretty,” she said, and I was bewildered.

“What? What is?” I asked, tripping over my words in a haste to force them out of my mouth fast enough for her to hear, for her to respond.

“The rose,” she replied. Oh. Of course.

“You want it?” I asked, extending the single red rose to her. “It’s yours. You have it.”

“Keep it,” she told me. “Keep it, and remember me by it.” She closed her eyes, and I panicked, assuming the worst, assuming she was dead. “I love you,” she said suddenly.

“I love you, too, and I always have, and I always will. Know that. Remember it, even if you don’t remember anything else. Remember I love you.” She smiled briefly, and peace overtook her. “Janie,” I sputtered. “I’m sorry.” I titled my head and looked at her pitifully. Carefully, I folded her arms across her chest and placed the rose in her hand. Then I sauntered back outside in a stupor, lost in my reverie. I couldn’t cry, no tears would come. I couldn’t even make the words pass my lips, and by the look on his face as he shed the mask, he understood.

Everything went by silently. I started upstairs, but then I realized my mistake. I hurried back down and dashed back into the room, where the plague doctor stood beside my dead wife, and I plucked up the rose. The rose she told me to remember her by. I couldn’t do that if the rose was six feet under the ground, under my feet, along with her, the only woman I’ve ever loved. I fondled the rose carefully, and placed it in a pot of water. I reminisced and thought about the time we’d spent together – sure, we hadn’t been married that long – and the children we planned on having. If I ever have a little girl, I’ll name her Rose. And that way I’ll never forget.