by Gina Ranalli
Scowling, Mick said, "You make it sound like we live in a goddamn Disney movie."
"Well, I don't know!" Speck threw her hands up in exasperation. "I don't know how this stuff works. But if I did, I would help someone who needed help. I mean, why the hell not?"
"Nobody fucking helps us."
"That's right. That's my point, exactly."
Mick gave Speck a sideways glance before letting out a chuckle. "So, in your little fantasy world, we're the good guys."
"Hell, yes, we're the good guys! Haven't you ever read a comic book or seen a movie? The good guys always get shit on in the beginning, but despite that, they always rise up and kick ass for those weaker than themselves."
Eyes wide, Mick grinned as though she were watching a dancing monkey and had never seen anything quite so entertaining. At last, she said, "You either need to get stoned right now or never get stoned again. I have no idea which."
Speck felt her heart sink. She'd thought she had used a pretty good analogy-one that Mick could get behind-but instead Mick just thought she was whacked.
The sound of Gizmo's stolen moped rumbling towards them made both girl's look up and watch it's approach.
Gizmo and Dobie were whooping it up as Giz weaved around pedestrians, all of whom leapt out of the way, some of them cursing.
Mick surprised Speck by saying, "Okay. We can call her later, if you want. But I seriously doubt I'll be able to tell her anything useful."
"But what do you think it is? The fly thing, I mean."
Shrugging, Mick said, "No clue. Could be a curse or something like that."
Speck laughed but quickly checked it when she saw her friend was wasn't joking. "Who would do something like that? A curse of flies?"
"Someone pissed off at her, obviously."
Gizmo drove the moped right up to the wall, abruptly ending the girls’ conversation. Dobie hopped off and grabbed Mick around her neck, kissing her cheek. "We need to get one of those, babe." He nodded at the moped, his grin wide. "That was fun."
Looking at Speck, Gizmo said, "Your turn. Get on."
Speck smiled, got up and climbed aboard, wrapping her arms around Gizmo's waist. "Try not to kill me, okay?"
"You'll die laughing," he said over his shoulder as he gunned it and turned the moped around on a dime.
More people yelped as he narrowly missed running them over, which only seemed to increase Gizmo's enjoyment of the whole thing.
"We're outlaws now, baby," he shouted as they rode off, leaving the others and thoughts of curses behind.
CHAPTER 23
It was a little after nine AM when the telephone woke Josh.
His eyes felt swollen and he blinked against the sunlight streaming in through the cracks in the window blinds as he reached for his cell on the night table.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Josh. It's Tess."
Head foggy, he glanced at the clock again, the time sinking in. "Oh, shit!" He sat up too fast, instantly felt queasy and an urgent need to urinate, but flopped back onto his pillow with a groan. "Fuck me," he mumbled.
"What?"
The phone in his hand spoke to him distantly and he returned it to his ear. Tess was saying his name again.
"Sorry," he said. "I was asleep. What's up?"
There was a hesitation on her end, then she said, "I'm glad I caught you before you left for work. I was hoping you could pick up Em in a little while. I have to...uh...I have an errand I have to run and I'm keeping her home from school today."
Josh ground his teeth together in an attempt to quell the nausea. In addition to having to pee, he also suddenly felt a bout of diarrhea coming on. He swallowed and said, "I'm gonna have to call you back, Tess."
"What?" Her tone instantly turned to annoyance. "What for? Will you do it or won't you?"
"I...I really can't talk right now." He closed the phone, tossed it aside and sat up again. Covering his mouth with one hand he raced to the bathroom, not sure which end of his body was going to erupt first.
Sitting on the toilet, he grabbed the wastebasket and vomited into it while liquid shit exploded out of him. Instantly soaked in sweat, he almost felt like he might cry, his misery was so great. Where was Gillian?
He remained in the same position for several minutes, until he felt like everything that needed to be expelled had done so and then he flushed the toilet, put the wastebasket back on the floor and got shakily to his feet. Using a bath towel to mop the sweat from his body, he debated calling for Gillian, but didn't think he would be able to raise his voice enough to be heard beyond the walls of the bedroom.
Like an old man, he hobbled back to his bed and collapsed in a heap on top of the covers. What the fuck was wrong with him? Jesus Christ, he couldn't remember the last time he was so sick...
He wondered vaguely if he should attempt to call the office, but when another wave of nausea assaulted him, he dismissed the idea and buried his face in his pillow.
His cell phone rang again, close to his head.
Tess.
Something about Emily. Was his daughter sick too? He groaned again, his bowels roiling, snot streaming from his nose in thick rivulets and soaking into the cotton pillowcase.
His phone chirped, signaling a voice mail.
Josh lay still, except for the occasional involuntary shivers that wracked his body. Some amount of time passed, though he wasn't sure how much and then the cell rang again.
"Are you okay, baby?"
The voice spoke first from the doorway, and Josh sniffled and turned his head, for some reason expecting to see his wife standing on the threshold of the room.
But, of course, it wasn't Tess.
It was Gillian, looking like an angel, dressed in that white cable knit dress he liked so much. The one that barely covered the tops of her thighs.
She crossed the room, her brow furrowed, her heels clacking against the hardwood floor.
"Josh?" She sat on the edge of the bed and put a hand to his forehead. "My God, you're burning up."
"Where were you?" he croaked, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes. "I...needed you."
She frowned and for a moment, he thought she was angry at him, but then she grabbed his cell phone, studied the display and his frown deepened. "It's your ex-wife," she told him, her voice suddenly chilly.
He made no statement, his stomach rolling over again.
Gillian opened the phone and announced herself. She listened for a moment before saying, "I'm sorry, Tess, but Josh is very sick right now."
Another pause.
"Well, I'm sorry, but that won't be possible."
Josh closed his eyes and silently wished he could just lose consciousness. When Gillian spoke again, tone clipped, he knew she was close to losing her temper.
"Tess, he can't even get out of bed! Why can't you just get a sitter?" Gillian listened, then sighed loudly. "Fine. I'll come get her then." Pause. "No, it's perfectly fine. I don't think he's contagious. Just a stomach flu, I think." Pause. "All right, then. See you in a few."
The sound of the phone snapping shut caused Josh to open his eyes. Gillian's cheeks were pink with anger as she put the phone on the bedside table.
"I have to go get your daughter. Apparently, there's some dire emergency that absolutely cannot wait another minute." She sighed again, then shook her head. "I swear, that woman has no regard for your life now. She says 'jump' and expects you to say 'how high.' "
Josh unclenched his jaw long enough to ask, "Is Emily okay?"
"I assume so," Gillian replied, standing up and smoothing her dress. "It's Tess who's not okay."
This alarmed Josh and he attempted to sit up. "What? What happened?"
"Oh, nothing." She smiled suddenly and put a hand against his chest, easing him back down. "Just a figure of speech. I'm sure she's fine. Just some appointment that can't be rescheduled, I guess." She reached up and brushed his sweaty hair off his forehead. "I'll be right back, okay? I don't want you trying to get up wh
ile I'm gone."
"But..." He grasped her hand in his. "I...I think I made a mess in...the bathroom wastebasket. I'm sorry." A lump formed in his throat and he couldn't believe it-he actually was struggling not to cry now. It was as if he'd reverted to nine years old overnight.
Gillian took his words and his tears in stride. "Don't worry about it, baby. Whatever it is, I'll fix it when I get back. Your job is to just lie here and try to sleep, okay?"
Josh could only nod, not trusting his voice.
She smiled again. "Do you want a glass of water before I go?"
This time he shook his head, his heart breaking at how lucky he was to have such an understanding and patient woman at his side.
"Okay. I'll be back in a jiff."
And with that, she turned on her heels and strode out of the room. Even in his current state, Josh managed to give her swinging ass and hips an appreciative look as she left the room.
A minute later, he heard her leave the apartment, closing the door behind herself.
He shifted his position slightly, wishing he'd asked for something to settle his stomach before she'd left. He was pretty sure they had some kind of antacid in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. Running a hand over his face, he wondered if he was up for the challenge of getting out of bed again. His stomach didn't feel like it was going to explode quite as much as before, but he knew another bout of vomiting wouldn't take much coaxing.
Debating with himself for several minutes, he finally decided that lying in bed like a cripple was not the way he wanted to see himself, so he slowly sat up. Instantly dizzy, he gritted his teeth again until his jaw ached, closing his eyes and breathing shallowly through his nose. When the dizziness had faded into something more manageable, he opened his eyes and stood up, again wiping the sweat from his face. He was astounded by how much he was perspiring. The sweat ran into his eyes and dripped off his forehead and he thought that maybe he should try to gag some aspirin down along with the antacid.
He put one foot painstakingly in front of the other and then repeated the motion. Over and over until he reached the bathroom.
Averting his gaze from the wastebasket, he opened the medicine cabinet and found a plastic dispenser of TUMS. He shook several of the tablets directly into his mouth and chewed slowly, praying he wouldn't puke again.
Once he'd swallowed, he filled the glass on the sink with water and took small, careful sips, glancing at his reflection in the mirror.
The glass tumbled from his fingers and shattered in the sink.
Red blotches covered his face and, as he looked down at himself, he saw that, indeed, they covered most of his body.
"What the fuck?"
Leaning over the sink to get a better look at his face, his touched on of the red spots on his cheeks. The skin there wasn't raised, but close inspection revealed that in the middle of the spot was a tiny white circle, like a whitehead.
Josh turned on the bathroom light to examine himself more closely, the nausea forgotten for the moment.
The spots on his face were the smallest of them. On his torso, arms and legs, they were roughly the size of dimes and a much angrier shade of red.
His genitals seemed to be the most effected and when he touched a blotch near the head of his penis, he flinched at the soreness.
"Oh, God," he moaned, truly frightened. What the fuck was wrong with him?
Fighting panic, he left the bathroom, quickly going to the bedside table to call Gillian. Maybe she would know what the hell this was. She certainly must have seen the red spots before she'd left. Or had they sprung up that suddenly? Within mere moments?
He didn't think that could be possible, but he couldn't know for sure. Maybe Gillian had seen the spots but didn't want to alarm him? That made sense to him. She was always so concerned about his feelings.
Hoping he wouldn't sound like the biggest baby in the world when he called her-after all, she was coming right back, was probably only minutes away-he needn't have worried.
When he reached the bedside table, he saw that his phone was missing.
A quick glance around both the bed and the floor told him that it wasn't in the bedroom at all.
Gillian must have mistakenly grabbed it without thinking on her way out.
Josh felt himself begin to tremble as his head began to throb. He put himself back to bed and prayed his girlfriend would be back soon.
CHAPTER 24
Gillian pulled into Tess's driveway and stepped out of the car, studying the house from behind dark sunglasses. She told herself to be calm, though she wasn't sure she'd be able to under the circumstances.
Tess was annoying her more and more these days. The woman didn't even care that Josh was sick-just put her own needs ahead of his, and everything else be damned.
A cloud of flies buzzed around her head as she made her way up the walk to the front door. She absently waved them away as she pressed the doorbell and examined her fingernails.
A second later the door opened and Tess stood there looking disheveled and impatient, though she offered Gillian a tight smile. "Thanks for coming, Gillian. I really appreciate it."
She stepped aside and let Gillian enter the house. "No problem," Gillian said as Tess closed the door. "But I do have to get right back. Josh is in pretty bad shape."
Tess frowned with concern. "You said he has a stomach bug?"
"Yeah, nothing serious. He's miserable right now, but I'm sure he'll be over it in twenty-four hours or so." She glanced around the kitchen without bothering to remove her shades. "Where's Emily?"
"I'm right here," the girl announced, coming into the room, a stuffed animal in her arms.
Gillian was somewhat surprised at the state of the girl. Usually, Emily bounded everywhere she went, but now the child seemed listless and sullen.
It was then that Gillian noticed the fly tape strung all over the room, hanging from the ceiling and squirming with living flies mixed among clearly dead ones.
Tess noticed her gaze and said, "Yeah, we've been having a bit of an infestation problem. Did Josh tell you?"
Slowly, Gillian shook her head. "Not that I recall."
"That's why I have to go out, actually," Tess told her. "I need to meet some...um...some people to talk about...I don't know. Options, I guess."
Gillian looked at her. "Options?"
"To get rid of them. I think Em might be allergic."
"Huh. Well, that's no fun." Gillian said this to Emily who'd clung herself to her mother's leg. Gillian half expected the kid to start sucking her thumb at any second. To Tess, she said, "What's causing it? The infestation, I mean."
"We haven't been able to figure it out," Tess told her, clearly exasperated with the situation. "The whole thing is very bizarre."
"I would imagine so." Gillian smiled down at Emily and held out her hand. "Shall we get going, kiddo? Daddy's waiting for you at the apartment."
A fat black fly landed on Gillian's extended hand and Emily cried out, hiding behind Tess's thigh.
Gillian shook the fly away as Tess said, "They've been biting Emily for some reason. That's another reason I'd like to get her out of here for a while."
"Biting her?" Gillian asked. "That's unusual, isn't it?"
Tess nodded as she stroked her daughter's hair.
"Well, all the more reason we should get going then," Gillian said. "What do you say, Emily?"
Before Emily could respond, another-or maybe the same-fly landed on Gillian's breast, stark black against the white of her dress. Emily squealed again and behind her sunglasses, Gillian rolled her eyes.
Two more flies appeared out of nowhere and joined their brethren on Gillian's chest. She reached up to scratch her head and heard a fly buzz away. She wondered how long it had been there and if Tess had noticed it, seeing the insect but saying nothing.
"They seem to like you too," Tess said, reaching over to swish the flies from Gillian's chest. "Sorry about that."
"Probably my perfume," Gillian said
absently, reaching for Emily once more. "Let's go, sweetie. Your mom has things to do and your daddy is waiting."
"Why do they like you?" Emily asked, making no move to accept Gillian's hand.
Gillian repressed a groan of impatience. "Like I said, probably just my perfume. Or maybe my hairspray."
Emily gave her a doubtful look. "Really?"
"Yes, really."
Several more flies landed on various parts of Gillian's body and it suddenly occurred to her that she should be acting more troubled by their presence than she currently was. She forced herself to jump a little, brushing them away. "Please, Emily. Let's get out of here and let your mom do what she needs to do to get rid of these pests."
Her little performance seemed to do the trick, because Emily came out from behind her mother's leg and said, "Yeah. I hate them."
"I certainly don't blame you," Gillian told her.
Seconds later, they were out the door and getting into Gillian's car. "Seatbelt," Gillian said as she started the engine. Tess stood in the doorway and both women gave each other nods while the girl fastened her seatbelt and then waved.
Gillian didn't speak until they were on the road, and then she said, "So, those nasty little buggers have been biting you, huh?"
"Yeah." Emily thrust a tiny forearm under Gillian's nose. "See?"
Small red welts decorated the girl's arm. "I do indeed. Did your mom put any cream on those?"
"Yeah. It smells funny."
"Does it make the bites feel better?"
"Uh huh. But it doesn't keep the other flies from biting me. That's what I want. Something to make them stop."
"That's understandable. I'd want that too, if I were you."
They fell into a silence then, which Emily broke by helping herself to the radio. Gillian let her spin the knob, the sounds of a dozen different kinds of music and voices spilling from the speakers. If it distracted the kid, it was fine with Gillian. She wanted to think about this new information. The flies in Tess's house. Hundreds of them, by the looks of it. Where were they coming from and maybe more importantly, why were they there?
It was very puzzling.