Weed

by Peter Ponzo

  Chapter 19

  I guess I was agitated, pacing the living room.

  "So where did the weeds go, Charlie boy?"

  I glared at Charles from time to time. He stood without speaking while I paced the room. When I stopped and faced him, he said: "Miss Fleetsmith, the weeds were in the vase, just yesterday. I checked. I really cannot say where they went. There are no signs of any unlawful entry. The only persons who had access to the vase were you and me and ...." He paused. "And Miss Josephine. But she was not aware of the contents of the vase."

  "Shit! Some bastard has stolen the last of my weeds." I sat hard on the sofa. "Where's Josey?"

  "She's in her room. I bring her a tray of food and leave it by her door. She refuses to speak with me."

  "Get her, now."

  Charles shook his head, waited for a minute, then left. I got up and continued to pace the room. When Charles returned, Josey wasn't with him.

  "Well?"

  "She refuses to come out of her room."

  "Shit!"

  I ran to the stairs and bounded up to Josey's room, three steps at a time.

  "Josey! Open this bloody door!"

  I waited. I heard the click of the lock, then the handle turned slowly and the door opened a crack.

  "Fran, please come in," Josey said, in a muffled voice.

  I barged into the room but wasn't prepared for what I saw. Josephine Cowley stood in the centre of the room, in a thin nightgown, and her face was covered with hair.

  "Jesus Christ! What's happened to you," I cried.

  Josey broke down and slumped weeping to the floor.

  "Oh Fran, what's happening to me?" she sobbed. "I'm covered. The hair, it's everywhere. Oh lordy, what's happening? Please, Fran, help me."

  It had taken less than an hour to cover her body, the hair, dark and oily.

  It was almost noon when I had finally shaved Josey as best I could, and convinced her to come down to lunch. Charles was shocked and dropped the salad plate on the kitchen table. Josey began to cry uncontrollably.

  "It's the Dermafix," I said. "Another feature. The membrane, the healing, the foam, the cell regeneration and now this. Hair."

  Charles was staring, open mouthed.

  "But he said I would become young again," Josey cried. "Now, look."

  "Hans didn't know a bloody thing about this fungus," I said angrily. "He just saw the first stages, the smooth membrane, the healing. Stupid bastard. Wanted to jump in before all the tests were complete. Look what it did to him. Look what it's doing to you." I ran my hand over Josey's head, caressing. "Don't worry kid." It was my best voice. Honey and Cream. Poor kid. "We'll get to the bottom of this. There's got to be an antidote, a procedure for reversal."

  "But look at me," Josey sobbed. "I'm not a woman. I'm a ... a ape."

  "Women," Charles said, still staring at Josey.

  "Not so's you'd notice," Josey bawled.

  Charles turned to me and said, "Women."

  "Women?" I said. "What women?"

  "Miss Fleetsmith, you asked me to say that word, so it would recall something to mind. The word would jog your memory."

  "That was some time ago, as I recall. What took you so long?"

  "I needed something to jog my memory," Charles said, somewhat embarassed.

  "And Josey's condition? Did it jog your memory?"

  "Yes."

  I frowned. "Mmm, I don't know what I was thinking of, at the time. It was when we were returning from Unger's office, right?"

  "Yes, and Miss Fleetsmith? I think I may have a theory," Charles said, "about the Chokli women."

  I jumped up from my seat.

  "Women! Yes, of course, that's it! They're not women at all! Not any longer! They're now all men!"

  Josephine Cowley fainted.