Curing the Uncommon Man-Cold (12 page)

Kevin didn’t respond. Desperation in a buddy probably made him uncomfortable.

“I’m desperate, Kevin. Plus I seem to be out of cash.”

“I don’t know, Jase. If you’re off-work-sick, I think you need to stick it out.”

Jason wailed pitifully. “Save me. Please! You know I’d come for you.”

“No, you wouldn’t. You’d head for the county line.” No sympathy from Kevin. “You’re on your own, buddy. Besides, I know you’re exaggerating. It’s a cold. How bad could it be?”

“I don’t even have any pants!”

“Now, that’s what I’m talking about!” Kevin laughed. “After you finally come back to work, I think I’ll catch a cold for the next week.”

“Kevin, I’m begging…”

“Sorry, buddy, you’re on your own with an apartment full of attentive women. Gotta go. Let me know if I can help.”

“I
am
letting you know. I
do
need your help! Come rescue me!” Jason’s call was not going as planned.

“What a kidder! Bye.”

Jason stared at his phone in stunned silence. His best buddy wouldn’t even take him seriously! But at least Kevin had offered a useful suggestion and Jason called the pizza place.

After nearly ten minutes, he flipped his phone shut with total disgust. “Pizza nazi! You just lost my business forever!” Then he sucked down another inch of striped toothpaste.

Chapter 8

Amanda checked the blog before leaving work. The comments reflected about the same proportion of supporters and detractors. She clicked on the Kick-Marty link they’d discovered on Day Three. Current tally was
Kick
Marty
Out — 24
. More than double the number from two days ago.

There was a new link to a second adjunct blog. This one was tagged Free-Marty and the first-day tally was
Free
Marty
Now! — 5
. It would be interesting to track these two opposite viewpoints: one group understanding that Jason was an intruder and the other group assuming he was a prisoner.

Amanda clicked back onto the central blog’s main page to see Christine’s newest posting.

.

Curing the Uncommon Man-Cold

Day Five

Lunch for our patient was right on the very edge of edible.
Marty
took a couple of those compressed rice cake cracker things and actually spread toothpaste on them. Cheez Whiz is off the list — dairy, of course — so he must have figured anything that’s gooey could be substituted. I’m tempted to try this myself. He insists the striped toothpaste will go with anything.

Marty
had barely finished his meager lunch when the two female insect sprayers I’d arranged came in and doused the apartment. Of course, they were bogus… which is the whole point of these disruptions. In any normal week you wouldn’t have a technician visit every day and a hen party every evening. Remember this, ladies, when you plan your Scare-Cures. Pull out all the stops!

Oh, back to the pretend sprayers. They did most of their work right around
Marty
. Both his feet got dosed liberally. Apparently our patient had discovered an old peppermint nearly buried on
Missy
’s dresser. The sprayers told me he’d just spent five minutes carefully unwrapping this dried-up mint. So, right when he was about to plop it in his mouth, one of them zapped it with the pretend bug spray.

Sorry, thought I saw a bug,
she told him.

Important hint: don’t use real bug spray for this part of the treatment. You don’t want to go to jail for poisoning. All they were spraying was water with a quart of dime store perfume dumped in.

Oh, final note about this: The sprayers were friends of my sister. You can use any relatives or friends the patient has never met.

Almira Gulch

.

That signature sounded vaguely familiar but Amanda couldn’t place it. Maybe a teacher she’d had in elementary school?

She reread the part about the insect sprayers. No idea who those women were, but clearly they represented two more individuals who now knew about the Scare-Cure that Amanda and her bossy friend were perpetrating against an unsuspecting Jason. At least six people now knew that Amanda’s life was being played out on a blog.

* * * *

Dead tired, Amanda arrived home from work about 5:35. First stop was the air conditioner’s outside compressor, where she followed Christine’s instructions. The unit cycled on and began moving the afternoon’s stale, hot air through the duct system. It would take at least thirty minutes to cool off sufficiently.

With an overall body expression of total exhaustion, Amanda entered, dropped her purse, and kicked off her heels. She stared at the inside of her own apartment for a moment as though she wasn’t sure it was the correct address. She left the door mostly closed, but it would take too much effort to push it until it latched fully.

It was jungle hot inside! She pulled her skirt halfway up her thighs and loosened two extra buttons on her blouse. Since she didn’t possess the energy required to reach the couch in the living space, Amanda just sank into the chair nearest the door and closed her eyes.

About six minutes after she fell asleep, Jason trudged in and pushed the front door until it clicked. Amanda woke immediately with a feeling like she’d just landed in the middle of a 1950s horror movie. She had. Directly in front of her was the
Creature from the
Guest
Lagoon
.

“Hi. Didn’t hear you come in.” Jason obviously noticed how much leg was revealed by her disheveled skirt.

He approached and apparently attempted to negotiate an embrace, but the positioning was all wrong. Plus she was not remotely in the mood for embraces with a man who apparently hadn’t showered in at least four days. Amanda held him at arm’s length and didn’t even rise from the chair. “Get in the bathroom and take a shower, for cryin’ out loud.” She pointed sternly. “You positively stink! And you still haven’t shaved!”

Jason’s apparent ardor cooled significantly. “I haven’t been doing anything but sitting around… haven’t been anywhere.” He inhaled deeply at his own armpit. “You don’t get smelly unless you do stuff and go somewhere.”

“I don’t know which farm school taught you human hygiene, but if you’re going to stay another minute inside my apartment, you’re going to take a shower.” She jabbed her pointing finger in the appropriate direction. “And throw those filthy rags outside the door. If I can chase them down, I’m going to wash them.”

“Cheese Louise, what a grouch. You used to be fun to be around.”

“Don’t get me started, Jason!” She sounded like her own mother. Amanda took a breath. “You brought one change of sick clothes. I’ll bring them to you. Now shuck those filthy things and get yourself washed. Missus Yodel can’t even practice with the smell coming from this apartment.”

“It sure didn’t bother her the rest of today.” Jason hurried into the bathroom before Amanda could reply.

About fifteen minutes later, Amanda saw Jason emerge from the hall bathroom — presumably clean. Except for damp hair, however, he didn’t look much different than before.

Clearly, he noticed the interior climate change right away. “When did the A/C guy come and fix your unit? Whew! I was dying in here today.” Jason wiped his brow theatrically. “With the windows open, I had to listen to Missus Yodel practice for seven hours straight. Today she didn’t even take a fifteen minute break.”

“The air’s not really fixed.”

“It’s running right now.” Jason held his hand up near the ceiling vent. “Feels great. Thanks, whatever you did.”

Though Amanda enjoyed hearing his gratitude, she had to break the news. “Just temporary. That part the technician ordered hasn’t come in yet, but I told him I had a meeting tonight.”

“Another meeting?” Jason let out a string of curses, some of which were new to Amanda.

She ignored his interruption. “So he brought over a loaner part from his shop. But it’s got to be on his shelf again in the morning. I’m afraid you’re back in the tropics tomorrow.”

“We get
temporary
use of an A/C part? If he’s got it in his shop, why can’t you just buy that one? We don’t need one imported from Osh-Kosh. The local part will be just fine.”

“You don’t understand. This has to do with my landlord — the geezer who owns these fourteen apartments… seven duplexes. He has an exclusive contract with Spiros Brothers Air, and they’re closed down for a funeral in Greece.”

“The entire shop closes down ’cause somebody died in Greece? You can’t run a business that way!”

Amanda nodded. “Good point. And I think Mister Geezer is coming around, as well. But he’s got to wait until the Greeks get back in the States to see if that contract can be amended, or if he’ll have to get a lawyer to run interference.”

“Look, I don’t give a frying flog — um, a flying frog — about the Geezer, the Greeks, or the lawyer. I spent this entire day suffocating in here and listening to the female Slim Whitman next door. I’m going nuts! Another day like today and I’ll be running in the streets screaming.”

Well, at least he’s
identified
the correct direction
. “Look, no need to get agitated. Just enjoy the cool air while we have it. Maybe this particular Greek funeral will be short and sweet.”

“It’ll probably be the start of a new Grecian civil war and they won’t make it back to the States for months!” Jason sputtered a lot when he whined. He also exaggerated.

“Well, at least we can hope they’ll be back in time to light my furnace for winter. Think positive.”

“I already am positive. I’m positive this whole situation is totally insane! And it’s all Christine’s fault. Couple of days ago, I only suspected she’s a witch, but now I’m certain. If you cut her, I bet she won’t even bleed.”

“Don’t witches bleed?” Amanda raised her eyebrows.

“Well, whatever the test is. Maybe you have to dunk them under water and see if they drown.”

“I don’t think she’d appreciate that.” She peered into his rather frantic eyes. “You used to like Christine.

He shook his head slowly.

“Well, you certainly paid attention to her. I thought you were being friendly.

Jason’s head continued to move slowly side to side.

“Oh, I get it. You only put up with her because she has such forward attributes.”

“I can’t deny I’ve noticed Christine’s rack. But that’s partly because she showcases those very healthy melons.”

“Melons?” Amanda looked wistful. “I would have calculated grapefruit as the proper comparison.”

“Whatever. Anyhow, now that I’m certain she’s a witch, I bet Christine’s boobs are solid ice. You’d get frostbit if you even touched them.”

“Yet you’d still be tempted, wouldn’t you?”

Jason paused while he obviously reflected on the flesh he’d seen over Christine’s low-cut blouses. “Probably so. But not for long. Your fingers turn black if they stay frozen more than a few minutes.”

“Better rewind that Arctic documentary. I think it requires several hours of exposure.”

Jason seemed to contemplate a longer exploration of Christine’s bosom. “Whatever.”

“Well, regardless of your feelings for Christine, or if you’re just bewitched — ha! — by her cleavage, you’d better not make her angry. If she gets upset, she might reschedule that colonic tonic.”

Jason started to waggle a finger in her face, but quickly stopped. His finger still extended, he just stared into her eyes for a long moment.

Amanda could see his frustration, exasperation, and disappointment. But she could also see Jason was clearly no longer sick. He was already completely over his cold, but was stubbornly holding out for the
owed
TLC he had manufactured in his mind.

Sorry,
‘Marty’.

“Since your slacks are still at the cleaners and all you have is sagging jammies, you’d better stay in the back room while my guests are here.”

———

Jason felt like a fourth grader sent to the chalkboard to write disciplinary lines. “More guests? Creepin’ crud! How long are they going to be here?”

“Probably not much more than two hours. Now scoot. I think they’re arriving now.”

They were.

From Jason’s listening post in the guestroom, it was difficult to imagine the purpose or function of this gathering. He thought he recognized Sunny’s and Maria’s voices and was positive he heard Christine’s. With that combination, this could be a meeting of their secret coven.

However, it didn’t sound sinister. There was laughter, oohs and ahhs, and somebody even clapped briefly. What could this be? There was a fifth female voice not recognizable. Jason strained to hear. He discerned snippets about color and shade and tone — perhaps the fifth woman was an amateur artist painting a portrait of one of the guests.

No, not quite that, but it had to be related somehow to artwork. In fairly short order, she had apparently painted pictures of all four attendees.
Hmm
. More laughter; also excessive flattery which sounded enthusiastic but insincere.
What the heck are they doing out there?

Jason didn’t know. But they also ate a lot of snacks, which, of course, interested him considerably more than the portraits, or whatever. During their two-hour stay, they evidently gorged themselves on what sounded or smelled like nuts, cookies, and nachos, among other indistinguishable edibles.

Sound traveled well in that apartment. At the guestroom door, as he savored the sounds of distant food, Jason wondered how things had come to this. Something was wrong with this picture, terribly wrong. But he couldn’t put his finger on it.

He was banned from hen-party sessions which did not interest him anyway. He had no accessible street clothes, couldn’t find his car keys, considerable cash and his credit cards were missing, and his girlfriend had just ordered him to shower.
Crud
. He’d come here to recuperate from illness. But Amanda had basically imprisoned and then abandoned him. The evil witch Christine had administered torture and probable poison, and his buddy Kevin flatly refused to rescue him. Everything was off kilter!