Pick Your Poison

by Lauren Child

‘Doesn’t mean she should go around killing teenagers though,’ said Ruby.

  ‘Quite so, I couldn’t agree more,’ said the housekeeper, ‘just saying it can hurt like misery when you lose that number one spot in the beauty parade, don’t matter if it’s looks or brains.’

  ‘Were you a beauty queen, Mrs Digby?’ asked Ruby.

  Mrs Digby rolled her eyes. ‘Lawks no child, but for a while I was the most talented cake baker in the county until Brenda Hathaway came along.’

  ‘I see your point,’ said Ruby, remembering how Dakota Lyme had reacted to coming second in the mathlympics meet.

  ‘That Brenda Hathaway,’ said Mrs Digby, ‘it might not have been her fault, but it stung like poison oak losing out to her.’

  No wonder Mrs Digby had objected so to Consuela Cruz taking over her kitchen.

  ‘Well, I’ll leave you to it,’ said the housekeeper, shaking her head as she gathered the dirty mugs, glasses and cereal bowls onto her tray and tottered back downstairs.

  ‘I’ll holler when supper’s done,’ she called. ‘You’d better wake old sleeping beauty there and ask him if he wants to stick around for nourishment or if he’s planning on heading home any time.’

  Ruby flicked through the pages of Pick Your Poison, leaving the frogs and toads behind her.

  The first section of this chapter covered Greek myths and legends – like that of Glauce, poisoned by a dress. Ruby knew the story already: when Jason (of Argonauts notoriety) abandoned Medea to marry Glauce instead, Medea took revenge by sending Glauce a wedding dress and a crown as a gift, both soaked in poison. Glauce wore the dress and crown, and she died. Boy, that Medea was not the sort to bow out gracefully, thought Ruby. As ancient Greek as all this sounded and a long way from real life, it did make Ruby wonder. She remembered her mother complaining that the altering service at the dress store had returned the dress damp.

  What if the dress Mom was wearing was soaked in something toxic? What if that toxin soaked into her skin and poisoned her?

  It seemed like a pretty stupid thought until she turned to the next section and there was a story about a young woman who purchased a second-hand wedding dress from a thrift store. Unfortunately the dress had previously been worn by a dead person and was soaked with embalming fluid, unfortunate because the young woman who wore the dress to her wedding very nearly died as the poison began to work its way into her system. It was a far-fetched scenario, no doubt apocryphal, some kind of urban myth, but it did make the whole poison dress idea seem much more possible.

  First question to answer was: if her mother’s dress was poisoned with some toxic substance then how did it get there?

  Had her mother accidentally spilt something on the dress? Had someone else accidentally spilt something on the dress?

  What kind of scenario would allow you to spill something dangerously toxic on a dress and not even notice?

  She leant over and shook Clancy, who had been sleeping solidly for the past several hours.

  ‘Hey Clance, wake up!’

  He murmured but continued to sleep. She shook him more vigorously.

  ‘Wake up!’

  ‘Huh, what, I didn’t do anything,’ he called out.

  ‘Relax Clancy, it’s me.’

  ‘Oh, what is it? Something happen?’ he asked.

  She looked at him. ‘Maybe,’ she said.

  Ruby pointed to the page illustrated with the drawing of the swooning bride. Clancy read. It took him two reads before he got it.

  ‘You’re saying your mom’s dress was poisoned? That doesn’t seem very likely.’

  ‘I’m saying it could have been, it’s a possibility, but just say it was … then consider how.’

  ‘On purpose?’ Clancy was looking at her. ‘You think if it happened it would be on purpose, right?’

  Ruby paused before saying, ‘I know it sounds far-fetched, but on the other hand, how could it happen by accident? I mean, just how do you accidentally poison someone’s evening gown?’

  ‘You spill something, knock something over, the cat knocks something over, your mom spills something on it … What something are we talking about here?’

  ‘Could be various things. But based on her symptoms – the dizziness, the paleness, the lack of coordination, the metallic taste in her mouth – I’d put my money on methanol. It’s used for embalming and so the question to ask would be: why would it be anywhere near a dress shop or my mom’s bedroom for that matter?’

  Clancy flicked through the pages of Pick Your Poison till he found a section called ‘Methanol Poisoning’.

  Methanol is the simplest alcohol compound and is highly toxic. It can enter the system by ingestion, inhalation or absorption through the skin, and its effects can be fatal. Its primary toxic mechanism is a process of formate production: methanol is metabolised in the body into formic acid. This inhibits mitochondrial cytochrome c oxidase, creating hypoxia at the cellular level, which—

  ‘What’s hypoxia?’ said Clancy.

  ‘Lack of oxygen,’ said Ruby. ‘It basically suffocates your cells.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound nice.’

  ‘You got that right, It would have you looking like the Rigors of Mortis Square given time.’

  ‘So if this poison is so dangerous,’ asked Clancy, ‘then how come your mom didn’t die?’

  ‘She cured herself,’ said Ruby.

  ‘How could she?’ said Clancy. ‘She had no idea what was making her sick.’

  ‘It was just a fortuitous coincidence,’ said Ruby. ‘One of the cures for methanol poisoning is ethanol, because the body processes that instead and excretes the methanol – and my mom happens to like the odd glass of ethanol.’

  Clancy’s face suggested a total blank in the brain, so Ruby filled him in.

  ‘Alcohol. Ethanol is the chemical name for alcohol, and my mom drank martini cocktails that night and that’s what saved her life – she administered her own antidote.’

  Clancy stared at her, eyes huge.

  ‘If I could get hold of the dress then I could prove it,’ said Ruby.

  ‘You think?’ he asked.

  ‘I could be wrong, it’s just a theory,’ said Ruby.

  ‘Yeah and a really creepy one,’ said Clancy, ‘if you don’t mind my saying it. I really hope you’re wrong.’

  ‘Are you a complete

  brainless wonder?’

  said the woman …

  ‘… Let me explain,’ he replied.

  ‘I’d like that,’ she said, ‘because the thing is, sweetheart, I just can’t seem to square it … Why did we go to all that trouble of springing you from jail when you seem to be a complete and utter waste of space?’

  ‘I thought the plan was foolproof.’

  ‘I thought you were supposed to be some kind of expert, but it seems you’re just an idiot.’

  ‘I was off my game, I’ve been out of action cooped up in a cell six foot by seven foot.’

  ‘You’ll be six foot under if he has his way.’

  ‘Has he said anything?’

  ‘I don’t think you want to know.’

  ‘What can I do?’

  ‘You better make it right, sweetie – you better get to that hospital and retrieve the dress.’

  ‘You want me to destroy it?’

  ‘That’s about right. If anyone cares to take a long hard look, then they’ll know the truth and we don’t want this coming back to bite us.’

  ‘Consider it done.’

  ‘No, sweetie, I’ll consider it done when it’s done. Until then you better pray he doesn’t decide to terminate your contract, and by terminate I mean …’

  ‘I know what you mean.’

  ‘Good, I hate having to spell things out. Oh, and I wouldn’t run if I were you, that’ll just make him angry, you know what he’s like, and he’ll only find you anyway and it won’t be pretty when he does.’

  THE NEXT MORNING WHEN SHE OPENED THE FRONT DOOR, Ruby thought her mother looked frailer than she had ev
er seen her. Sabina stepped unsteadily out of the car, her skin so pale that she could have doubled for the part of Cordelia Rigor, and Ruby hoped her father had a firm grip on her mother’s arm because if that wind caught her then she might be snatched up and whirled away.

  ‘That’s the last time I eat an oyster,’ said Sabina easing herself into a chair like she was a very old lady.

  ‘I didn’t think you did,’ said Ruby.

  ‘I am beginning to think I must have, everyone says I did, but one thing’s for sure – I don’t want to look an oyster in the eye ever again.’

  ‘Oysters don’t have eyes,’ said Ruby, ‘or at least not what you would consider to be eyes.’

  ‘Don’t they?’ said Sabina. ‘How do they see?’

  ‘I’ll get you a book on the topic,’ said Ruby. ‘I have one upstairs.’

  Sabina thought for a second. ‘Oh yes, that’s right, they don’t have faces … You know, would you mind if we changed the subject?’

  ‘Happily,’ said Ruby.

  Sabina was silent for a minute as she took in the entire picture that was Ruby. ‘I think I’m about to barf,’ she said.

  ‘I’ll get you to the bathroom,’ said Ruby.

  ‘No, I was just reading your T-shirt,’ said Sabina. ‘I know the feeling only too well.’

  ‘Oh sorry,’ said Ruby, ‘I’ll just go change into something less descriptive.’ She glanced down at her left arm. She could see her mother trying to make out what it said. ‘Something with long sleeves,’ she added.

  Ruby was remembering what the doctor had said: ‘Try to make sure your mother avoids stress of any kind.’

  Ruby wasn’t sure if it was stressful for her mother to look at an arm which said WAKE UP AND SMELL THE BANANA MILK, but she was certain it was kinder not to remind her about how Friday night had been spent.

  Sabina had retired to her bed by the time Ruby returned to the kitchen, so she made her a cup of tea and went on down to her mother’s room. Brant had gone to the store to get some particular herbal remedy, one Mrs Digby swore by, so Ruby stayed a while, chatting to her mother and generally being thoughtful and, when the moment came, she enquired about the dress.

  ‘So what did you do with your evening wear?’ she asked, faux-casual. She was peering into the small suitcase her father had packed for Sabina and could see no red dress.

  ‘I really don’t know,’ said Sabina, ‘but I have to say, I really don’t care either. I don’t think I’d wear that dress again to save my life.’

  ‘So what do you think happened to it?’ said Ruby.

  ‘I guess it got lost. It should have been in my hospital locker, but that was empty when I checked out.’

  It was while she was babysitting later that morning that Ruby put her master plan into action. She figured it would not only get her out of the Lemon house with no objection from either her parents or Elaine, but also save her from momentous boredom.

  ‘Of course, good idea, take Archie out, Ruby, he could use the air.’ Elaine Lemon looked like she could also use the silence, but Ruby said nothing to that effect and instead packed Archie into his stroller, gathered up the mind-boggling amount of stuff that people seemed to insist a baby needed and left the house.

  She wasn’t actually headed to the park as she had told Mrs Lemon, but instead to Clancy’s house on Ambassador Row.

  Clancy was looking down from the upstairs window and when he spotted Ruby he called out.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘I’m babysitting,’ said Ruby.

  ‘What?’ said Clancy. He couldn’t quite believe his ears. ‘You are not serious?’

  ‘Totally,’ said Ruby.

  ‘What happened? Did you lose your mind finally?’

  ‘It’s tactical,’ said Ruby.

  ‘How so?’

  ‘I do a little babysitting and my parents regard me in a more sympathetic light, also it makes them feel I am being punished, which in a way I am.’

  Clancy was really looking at her now.

  ‘Plus it means I get to leave the house, legit.’

  ‘This is your plan?’ said Clancy. ‘Your brilliant plan?’

  Ruby shrugged. ‘The best I could come up with at short notice,’ she said.

  ‘Impressive,’ said Clancy. ‘Where does one pick up a baby at short notice?’

  ‘Elaine Lemon’s,’ said Ruby. ‘Can you come down and open the gate?’

  ‘Sure thing,’ said Clancy, and he ran downstairs and buzzed her in.

  ‘He might be needing a drink already, you got any milk?’ asked Ruby. ‘I tell you, all this kid does is poop and eat.’

  They walked into the kitchen where they found five-year-old Olive Crew reading a book, or at least pretending to read a book; most of it she had simply memorised.

  ‘You want me to read him a story?’ asked Olive. ‘I can read really good.’

  ‘Well,’ corrected Clancy. ‘It’s well, not good, and by the way, you can’t.’

  ‘I can too,’ said Olive and she plonked herself down next to Archie and began the job of pretending to read.

  ‘Once upon a time … you see?’ said Olive. ‘I’m reading.’

  ‘You’re not reading,’ said Clancy, ‘you’re remembering.’

  ‘It’s the same,’ said Olive.

  Ruby and Clancy opened a bag of cookies and Clancy chatted on to her about the Explorer Awards evening.

  ‘I mean those snakes,’ said Clancy, ‘they were something else. One bite and you start sweating a river.’

  And then Ruby told him about how her mother’s evening gown had disappeared.

  ‘Someone must have taken it from her hospital locker,’ said Ruby.

  ‘Maybe it just got lost in the emergency room,’ offered Clancy. ‘I mean, it must have been pretty dramatic, a life and death sorta situation.’

  ‘Yeah, maybe,’ said Ruby. ‘Either way, we got no way of proving my theory.’

  Olive’s little voice droned on in the background. ‘Who is the fairest of them all? … Clancy what does this word say?’

  ‘Liver,’ said Clancy. ‘The queen told him to cut out her heart and her liver.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Olive. ‘The queen told him to cut out her heart and her liver,’ she wrinkled her nose. ‘What’s a liver?’

  ‘It’s one of your main internal organs,’ said Ruby, ‘cleans your blood.’

  ‘Do you need it?’ asked Olive.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Ruby, ‘you’re basically flat-out dead without a liver.’

  ‘So what’s Snow White going to do when the man cuts out her liver?’ asked Olive.

  ‘She’s going to die,’ said Clancy. ‘What do you think is going to happen?’

  Olive ignored him and continued with her story.

  ‘So how long do you think your parents are going to keep this up?’ said Clancy.

  ‘The whole grounding deal? I don’t know,’ said Ruby, ‘they’ll get bored soon enough, want me to go to some party with them and that will be that.’

  ‘What’s a b-o-d-i-c-e?’ asked Olive calling out the letters phonetically.

  ‘Like a corset,’ said Ruby.

  ‘What’s one of them?’ said Olive.

  ‘Something you wear, straps you in real tight,’ said Ruby.

  ‘Like what?’ said Olive.

  ‘It’s a piece of clothing. You lace it up and it wraps tight around your middle.’

  ‘Like a belt?’ said Olive.

  ‘No, not really, but pretend for the sake of interruption it is.’

  ‘OK,’ said Olive.

  ‘And when do you have to do your community service?’ asked Clancy.

  ‘I’m still waiting to hear,’ said Ruby.

  ‘So the queen pulled the belt really completely tight and Snow White couldn’t breathe and fell over on the floor and was dead, but not quite.’

  Ruby stopped talking.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Clancy.

  ‘What did you just say, Olive?’

&nb
sp; ‘So the queen pulled the belt really completely tight and Snow White couldn’t breathe and fell over on the floor and was dead but not quite.’

  ‘Lost property,’ said Ruby.

  ‘What?’ said Clancy.

  ‘My mom was wearing a belt the other night at the Explorer Awards.’

  ‘So what?’ said Clancy.

  ‘So I need to get to the Geographical Institute and search through the lost property.’

  ‘Because she might have lost her belt?’

  ‘She left it in the powder room, and it might be evidence of my poison theory – I have to get down there, right now!’ She caught sight of baby Archie. ‘Only I can’t because I gotta get the Lemon home. Darn it!’

  ‘Simple,’ said Clancy, ‘I’ll get the belt, you lose the Lemon!’

  ‘Clancy, you’re a genius.’

  ‘No,’ said Clancy. ‘I’m just thinking straight.’

  They had just barely made it to the bus stop when it seemed the baby was trying to tell them something.

  ‘Is it food you’re after?’ asked Ruby. The baby may have smiled, it was hard to be sure with babies; one infant’s smile was another’s gas.

  ‘Oh brother,’ Ruby said as she pulled out one more jar of mush. She began to look for a spooning device.

  ‘Here,’ said Clancy, ‘I always keep one with me.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Ruby. ‘Weird, but thanks. That kid’s doing my head in.’

  ‘He’s a lot better than Olive,’ said Clancy.

  ‘No, I don’t mean the Lemon, I mean that kid.’ Ruby pointed ahead of her. ‘The cartoon kid.’

  Ruby and Clancy were sitting on the bus stop bench and there was a flyer stuck to a lamppost. The drawing was of that same cartoon kid, the words winding out of its mouth.

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ said Ruby. ‘In all the drama I forgot to tell you – Elliot was right, it is a drink, at least I think so. I saw the bottle the other day when I was getting socked in the nose by Gemma Melamare. It fell out of the trashcan. I can’t be sure because I couldn’t see too well on account of my glasses being broken, but I could swear it was the same image.’

  ‘Well that’s good, so it was all worth it, getting arrested by the sheriff then.’

  ‘I wasn’t arrested, Clancy.’