One Good Wand

by Grace McGuiness

  “I know this is a difficult time,” he said gently, “but we need answers in order to help your mother and the rest of those afflicted. We think those answers are in the motions of daily life. So, may we…?”

  I nodded, even though he was directing his words to Bob. In that moment, I realized that Bob was my mother’s next-of-kin and snapped my mouth shut.

  “Has Mrs. Poitier been exposed to any hazardous materials recently?” the pert CDC technician asked.

  “Definitely not,” Bob answered.

  “Has she left the country in the last year?”

  “We went to Cancun for our honeymoon six months ago.” Bob used a plain, discolored handkerchief to dab at his pale eyes.

  The questioning continued, all of which sounded pretty normal. At least, I assumed they were normal. This wasn’t exactly a situation I’d ever been in before. I let Bob answer all the questions as I smoothed Mom’s hair and watched at her face like she might wake up and tell me to stop being weird if I stared hard enough.

  I was lost in memories - specifically the summer Mom and Dad took Danny and I to South Dakota, and they had seemed like such perfect parents, all strong and funny and loving against the backdrop of never-ending sky and hills that glittered with fool’s gold - when Nicky asked, “Has she received any strange packages lately?” It jarred me back to the present.

  “Wait, is this a man-made thing?” I blurted. “Like germ warfare?”

  “Please just answer the question.”

  Bob answered quietly, “No strange packages.”

  I wasn’t going to be swayed so easily. Not by the guy I’d had a date with not three days before. Not when he ran out early on me. Even if it was to investigate someone else’s perpetually sleeping loved one. “Are you saying someone did this to my mother?”

  Sascha focused on Bob, leaving Nicky to deal with me. “Has she purchased new cosmetics recently?”

  “Nicky.” Tears were in my eyes, but every other part of me burned with fire so bright, I felt like I must be glowing. “Did someone hurt my mom?”

  Bob was too busy blowing his nose like a flugelhorn to answer.

  In Nicky’s defense, it looked like not addressing the question was actually tearing him up inside. “I’m not at liberty to answer any questions, Tessa.”

  “No,” Bob said in response to Sascha’s question.

  I opened my mouth to argue with Nicky, but stopped. “Wait. Yes, she has.” I picked up my purse - my mom’s purse, that is - and dug around inside. “I’ve never seen her wear any of this before.”

  Instantly, Sascha had an evidence bag with a toxicity imprint ready and waiting. I dropped all the makeup into it. “Any in particular?” she asked.

  “Anything that glitters. I used some of it this morning. Not the glittery stuff, but the rest. Am I going to collapse, too?” What I really wanted to ask had to do with who the hell put germs in makeup to make women fall into comas, but nobody would answer me so I kept it inside.

  “Probably not,” she answered. “This is only one possibility we’re testing for. Currently, evidence is scattered across the board. Which means we have no solid answers to give you. It could be topical, but it could also be airborne. Rest assured, the CDC is working around the clock to find the pattern of transmission and a cure as soon as humanly possible.”

  Somehow, that didn’t reassure me.

  “Tessa, can I talk to you for a minute?” Nicky asked. “Outside?” Sincerity softened his eyes, so I nodded and gave Mom’s hand one last squeeze.

  “Be right back, Mom,” I whispered. Bob took the chair again as soon as I moved. I saw him lean forward to kiss my mom sweetly as the door closed behind me.

  Out in the hallway, Nicky took my arm. Not with the sharp grip Mueller had used the night before, or even the gentle way he’d guided me out of the factory this morning. Nicky’s touch sent a surge of warmth through my body, and I found myself pressing my cheek to his chest about a second later. His arms were warm and safe and protective around me. When he ran his hand over my hair, the motion was so intimate, so sweet, I almost burst into tears. Instead, I turned my face up until our lips were a mere breath apart. Our eyes locked, and for a long, slow, rich heartbeat, the rest of the world ceased to exist.

  “I know you’re not allowed to say anything,” I whispered, too grown-up to let the hormones and physical needs demanding their due overrule my concern. “But how likely is it someone did this to her?”

  Nicky pulled back. Not a lot, maybe another half-inch, but it was enough to break the intimate connection. To be fair, that was probably mostly me and my ill-timed question. But my mom was my mom, so even though part of me yearned to pull him closer again, I forced myself to add to the distance.

  He searched my eyes, then stared at my mouth for a long moment, like maybe he was considering kissing me to shut us both up. Finally, making up his mind, he said, “Highly. I wouldn’t be here, otherwise.”

  Rage roared through me. Indignation, like a million candles catching a million drapes at the same moment, lit me up from the inside. “What exactly is it you do for a living, Nicky?” I blurted, my brain detached from my mouth.

  He hesitated so long I didn’t think he was going to tell me. Then he took a full step back and released me. “I’m kind of a criminal profiler. Kind of a detective, except I’m not with the police. It’s complicated.”

  “Sounds dangerous,” I said, wishing I knew how to use Maysie’s wand so I could pull the answers from his brain. Not to hurt him, but to pull the bastard responsible for hurting my mother out of thin air so I could beat the snot out of him.

  “Generally why I don’t mention it until the fourth date. Give my date a chance to like me for me so they don’t freak out so much.” He stuck his hands in his pockets.

  “But also gives you the chance to like them before they bolt.” I rubbed his arm, unwilling to lose our physical connection entirely. Over his shoulder, I saw Mueller standing in the hallway with a tray of cafeteria cups in hand. He puckered his lips, wrapped his arms around the tray, and mimed making out. I scowled at him, but I got the idea. I took a deep breath and pinned Nicky with my half-baked courage. “You can tell me all about it when we get to date number four, okay?”

  Nicky’s eyes blanked out for half an instant before the door to my mom’s room closed with a click that echoed the length of the hallway. As if he had just realized there were other people around us - or maybe because Sascha was one of them - he folded his arms over his chest, causing his suit jacket to pull in all the right places. It wasn’t a high-end suit, but it definitely did its job. “I will call if I have any other questions,” he said, his voice all business-like again. Yet the way he inflected it, I knew he’d be calling to ask me on a second date. Eventually. Like, when he figured out who was injecting a coma-inducing virus into cosmetics and had saved my mom. I think we both knew if that didn’t happen, there could be no second date.

  “And call me if there’s any news?” I whispered. By which I meant any news he could tell me, of course.

  He nodded, gave me one of those open-handed waves men are so good at that convey so much without any motion at all, then turned to join Sascha. She immediately lifted his clipboard to him and began whispering about things I wasn’t supposed to hear. They moved off like one creature, heads together, already in deep conversation. My stomach gremlin turned green - greener? - but I hushed it. If they could find a cure, I would love Sascha the CDC Associate forever.

  Mueller handed me a cup of hot chocolate. “Shoulda kissed him.”

  “With my mom in a coma in the next room? Talk about clingy.” I blew through the little square in the lid to cool the liquid inside.

  “Yeah, but what if that’s the true love’s kiss that would break the spell?”

  Sometimes, Mueller made me feel like a moron, usually for walking into a verbal trap. This time, I felt like a moron for forgetting so many things so easily. I glanced from him to Nicky’s broad, sexy, retreating back, t
hen shook my head. “Once again, I wasn’t affected by the spell, so I doubt I could break it.”

  “But what about the beard thing?”

  “What beard—” My emotion-flooded brain churned in place, working hard to remember anything that had happened before Bob’s call. “Oh. I…If we can’t find anything else to do, I’ll kiss him. I doubt Nicky is my one true love, but without other leads…”

  He took a sip from his own cup. The scent of cheap hospital coffee wafted toward me with his words. “So is it really just the suits? Can any man slap on a suit and make you want to jump his bones?”

  I fought the urge to punch him. It would have relieved a lot of my futility-based tension, but we were in a hospital. They probably frowned on physical violence here. “You mean like you and push-up bras?”

  “I have never worn a push-up bra. Whoever told you that is gonna burn.” The intensity of his comment made me do a double-take. Clearly, there was a story there. A very interesting, ultimately embarrassing-for-Mueller story. “What are you talking about?”

  He froze, suddenly finding his coffee cup extremely fascinating. “What are you talking about?”

  “How any woman can strap on a push-up bra and make you want to jump her bones. What else would I be saying?” I peered at him.

  “Lost me.” No invention in the world could be as amazing as that lid was at that moment.

  I bit back a grin. Huh. I didn’t think I’d be able to smile until my mom woke up. Weird.

  With a playful swat at his arm, I led the way back into my mom’s room. Mueller griped, “Watch it. This stuff is hot.”

  “And Bob probably wants his before it’s cold. Don’tcha, Bob?” I directed the last to my mom’s husband as we entered. “Bob?” He had fallen asleep with his bald head resting on Mom’s thigh. Touching him wasn’t high on my list of comfortable things, but I managed to give his shoulder a shake. “Hey, Bob, Mueller brought hot chocolate. Bob. Bob?” As I gave him a harder shake, his whole body slumped sideways, pitching out of the chair. His chin hit the lowered railing on the side of the bed with a loud thwack before I lurched forward and caught him. Except he wasn’t a small man, my step-father. All that middle-aged pudge and peltish hair really weighed him down. He was too heavy for me, and in attempting to save his horny ass from hitting the floor too hard, I ended up sprawled across the tiles, hot chocolate seeping between my breasts, and a hairy, overly-Aqua-Velva’d chest trying to suffocate me. Didn’t keep me from hearing Mueller’s guffaws from across the room, though.

  “Help me, you ass,” I croaked.

  He took his sweet time rolling Bob’s unconscious, meaty body off me. There were tears in his eyes and tracks showing their trail down the machine grime darkening his cheeks as he finally helped me up. Between chortles, he managed to say, “I don’t think Bob will mind if you take his cup.”

  Now was not the time to deck him. Now was the time to maintain a rational mind. Crisis management, and all that. I reached for the call button on Mom’s bed only to discover he had already hit it. A middle-aged nurse arrived quicker than I expected for answering a coma patient. She took one look at Bob and called out words I didn’t quite catch.

  As she knelt beside him checking his vitals, she asked, “What happened?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered as Mueller handed me paper towels to mop up my boobs. Like I was going to do that with him watching. “We came in and found him like that.” When she glanced at my shirt, I hastily added, “I mean asleep like that. Not on the floor. I tried to wake him up, and, well…” Mueller sniggered again so I slapped him across the belly to shut him up.

  The nurse gave me a disapproving look and waved us out of the way as a team arrived with a bed for Bob. Like one of Mueller’s well-oiled machines at the factory, they hoisted him in with a great deal more dignity than I had managed all day. “We might as well assign him here,” she said before they could wheel him out. “If it keeps picking up like this, we’ll have half the town in here pretty soon. We’ll be out of space before we know it.”

  My stomach sank, gremlin and all, toward my feet. “It’s that bad?”

  The nurses exchanged a look and then the first woman said, “I’m sure the CDC will have it under control soon. They know what they’re doing.”

  I could read between the lines, so I nodded and let them off the hook. “Is there anything I can do?”

  One of the younger nurses gave me a hug while the rest waited to get Bob settled. “Get some sleep. A lot of people are worried they won’t wake up, but from what we’ve seen it actually strikes when you’re awake. If you think you’re at risk, the most you can do is not operate heavy machinery, including a car. But sleep is important to maintaining a healthy immune system, so it really is the best thing.”

  I thought of the elf archer in the game and felt a little guilty. She had been worried, scared, sleepless, and I had kind of blown her off. Now my mom was actually sick, and I had no idea what to do with myself. Was it karma kicking my butt? “I used my mom’s makeup this morning…”

  “Here,” the second nurse said, handing me a washcloth from a cabinet. “Wash your face, then go home, take a shower, and get some sleep. Your boyfriend can drive you if you’re afraid to be behind the wheel.” She nodded at Mueller.

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” I said, dully. “He’s my…” I searched for the right word, but came up empty. “Mueller.”

  Still, I thanked her for the washcloth, grabbed my purse from the bin of my mom’s belongings, waved to Mom, and stepped outside. I had already seen everything under Bob’s clothes, but if I ever saw it again I might have to claw my eyes out.

  “We’ll take good care of them, I promise,” the second nurse said, hugging me again before she went back to her station.

  I stood in the hallway again, silent and confused. Too many emotions warred within me to get anything straight. I wanted to personally injure whoever had hurt my mom, but I was also too scared of what might happen to take more than five steps beyond the door. With all the crap happening in my life lately, the prospect of falling into a coma, myself, was actually kind of a relief.

  “Maybe I should just stay here,” I mumbled.

  “At the very least, you should wash that stuff off your face, and the hot chocolate from everywhere else.” He made a sweeping gesture around my boob region. I swatted his hand away.

  “You’re right,” I conceded, searching for a restroom sign.

  “They’re that way.” Mueller waved behind me. “You go do that, and I’ll go find your suit again so you can smooch him.”

  “No!” I shouted, my voice ringing on the spartan walls. More quietly, I implored, “Can you just stay here until I get back? Make sure she’s okay?”

  Mueller nodded slowly. “You know she’s just sleeping, right? It doesn’t get worse than that.”

  “They don’t know anything, Mueller. Not really. Just stay here, okay?”

  “Sure, Tessa. But hurry. Hospitals freak me out.”

  I didn’t mention that bars freaked me out but he had no problem forcing me into one of those. Instead, I smiled gratefully at him and joked, “Besides, I’m a mess. Nicky probably wouldn’t kiss me, anyway.”

  Mueller gave me a weird look, but I skipped off in search of the ladies’ room before he could make any likewise weird comment at my expense.

  After washing my mom’s makeup off my face, I rinsed the washcloth and retreated into a stall to wash the chocolate off my chest, neck, and arms. My shirt was still a disaster, but a quick trip home would solve that. If I dared to leave Mom all alone…which I wasn’t entirely sure I could do. For a split second, I found myself missing Kyle. He would probably be in the cafeteria watching some inane daytime television show, but I could send him back to the house to pack for me. I could have counted on him for that much, at least. He wouldn’t have hugged me or even so much as asked if I was okay, but he was usually good for an extra set of hands. Even if he had hugged me, it would have been stiff and aw
kward and cold. Nothing like leaning against Nicky had been. I wasn’t sure anything with Kyle had ever felt that good. It must have, in the beginning, when we were just a pair of young dreamers out to make an artistic mark on the world. But I couldn’t remember, and that made me so exceptionally sad that I had to sit down.

  As I was wiping my eyes with the chocolatey washcloth, a pair of women entered. I could tell by the click of their heels on the ceramic tile that they weren’t nurses.

  “This is frickin’ nuts, Jolene!” one of them said as she stepped into the stall beside mine. The other stayed at the sinks, no doubt checking herself in the mirror. “Have you ever seen anything like this before?”

  That name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t remember why. Her voice, too, struck a chord, but left me in the dark. “We’ve had flus on this scale. I haven’t seen any of them for myself, though. This is the biggest catastrophe I’ve ever reported. I can’t decide if I should be excited or sad.” Her voice shook, just a little.

  “Excited’s always better.” The first woman, whose voice made her sound much closer to being a girl than Jolene, zipped up and flushed. The stall door banged hard against the wall beside me, making me jump. “This could be your big break! I heard Mr. Flores saying you might get picked up by a national branch.”

  Jolene snorted in a feminine way I didn’t think I’d be able to mimic on my softest day. “He wishes. This is a quick clip, nothing more. There’s nothing to report, not yet. No deaths, no worsening cases. Just a strange disease that makes people fall asleep.”

  “Yeah, but it’s a lot of people. Those nurses made it sound like the hospital was going to have to start turning patients away.” She washed her hands with vigor. “This is like a frickin’ nightmare! No cause to be found. No signs or symptoms ahead of time. They’re just all like, ‘hi, I’m living my life,’ and then poof! They’re out. It’s like somebody cast a sleeping spell over the town or something.”