"Skipper," Kowalski detto to me. "I need to tell te something." I paused. All eyes were on me, including the doleful eyes of my Young Private that I thought I'd never see again-about an ora ago.
His big blue eyes stared up at me-almost like he was pleading-from his hospital cot. "It's all right, Private. You're fine." Kowalski reassured him, but I wasn't so sure. His expression read differently. I could tell Private was buying it, because he proceeded his banter with Rico. While he was distracted, Kowalski motioned for me.
I followed him closer to the door. From the counter we stood on, Kowalski leaped onto the doorknob, and began turning it. The door slid open, as I started heading out. Snow conceal the ground in heavy sheets. Right outside the office-on its stairs-ice screen all over.
Chills ran down my spine. My own breath fogged my view. Great idea talking outside, Kowalski. "Looks like some one needs to shovel." Skipper chuckled, struggling to brighten the bleak mood. Kowalski was not amused. "Skipper, I need to tell te something about Private's condition.
Condition? What was wrong with my soldier? I knew there was something, but it wasn't life threatening, right?
I remembered finding him there all to well. His small body laying there stiff and almost motionless. I thought I'd never see his gently eyes open again. Tears welled up in my eyes just thinking about it.
We were training. Then all of a sudden, he complained about being out of breath. He detto he couldn't breathe. I just assumed he was out of shape. A few minutes, after I excused him. We heard a noise, and he was on the floor unconuiss. I carried his body here, holding him close to keep him as warm as possible.
"What about it?" I asked.
"Skipper," Kowalski sighed. He teared up, and paused. "Private has something called… Avian Malaria."
I nod. The words tell me nothing. His voice does. "What is 'Avian Malaria'?" I questioned.
"It's a disease some penguins catch in captivity. A parasite invades the host's body, and lives inside its feathers. It starts eating Private's feather's and drinking his blood." Kowalski explained.
"Okay, but I've we all gotten vacinations for that."
"Yes, but-"
"So how does he have it? It must be something else! Case closed."
"That isn't what he has!"
"What?" I asked completely boggled.
"You're thinking of something else. There's più to this."
"Really?"
"As the parasite eats more, it starts taking away red blood cells."
"What does that do?"
"Skipper, it makes it harder and harder for Private's blood to obtain oxygen until…" Kowalski began crying. No, he had to be wrong. It couldn't happen to Private! Not my Young Private! He was too young! I asked the domanda he dreaded the most. The two words that would leave me with a excruciating answer. The domanda I didn't even want to be answered.
"How long?"
"Before Christmas." Kowalski whimpered through his tears. "As long as, I take care of him."
"What do te mean?" I asked.
"Well, if we leave him with the vet, he'll probably 'take Private out of his misery.'" Kowalski sniffled. "A. K. A not even bother paying for the medicine he'll need in his final week, and give him a fighting chance. And even if he keeps him alive, Private will be kept away from us to prevent the disease from spreading to us."
"That demon doctor! I swear to you! If he were to touch one più feather on Private's head, I'd… he could've… if Private wasn't… rrr… It's his fault in the first place!"
"Skipper, he wasn't the one who gave Private this." Kowalski grabbed hold on my shoulders.
"I know," I sighed. I couldn't imagine Natale without Private.…
"Now, how do we tell him?" I asked. Kowalski cupped his flippers over his face.