Curing the Uncommon Man-Cold (7 page)

“Now the first part of this therapy will be soothing…”

Perhaps Jason wondered vaguely about the second part, but it was difficult for him to focus.

* * * *

After the procedure was complete, Christine left the apartment quickly. She was in a hurry to post a description of Jason’s treatment on her blog.

.

Curing the Uncommon Man-Cold

Day Three

Marty’s
special therapy for today was what I call “gauze shock”.

I told him it was special ointment that would draw out male mammary contaminants as effectively as black salve, but without that awful smell.

So, I poured white Elmer’s Glue on a 3x3 gauze pad and applied the compress over his right nipple. I left the pad on for about eight minutes… just long enough to partly dry. Then I told him to brace for the impurities to be drawn out by this special poultice.

This particular virus has definitely slowed down the energy transfer of synapses in the male brain, because he was actually watching to see what color the impurities would be. In his confused state, he forgot all about the coarse hair on that part of his chest. Hmm. Maybe instead of the word “drawn” I should have said “yanked” — because that’s what I did. In the resulting shock, moans, and curses, he forgot to check on the color of those nasty mammarial germs.

A large square patch of hair was gone from the vicinity of his right nipple. “Oops,” I said.

His reaction: “Yow! You’re killing me!” Then he called me a witch… or maybe a different noun. Not certain. He didn’t stop to question which impurities had been lurking.

He also forgot to thank me for stopping by to administer this healing remedy. Ha!

Log in again tomorrow evening for the results of Day Four’s Scare-Cure.

We’re curing the uncommon man-cold, one man at a time.

Chapter 5

Amanda needed to get away from her office. If she kept working while eating at her desk, which was frequent during Hell Weeks, King Louie would probably wander in. He’d plop down on her guest chair to watch her chew and would ask if she was finished yet.

So she worked until 1:00 p.m. and then left the building for the next hour. She decided to grab a quick burger and zip over to her own apartment to check on Jason.

On reaching her residence, Amanda let herself in quietly.

With the volume on, Jason was staring at the TV snow and obviously intent on his inexhaustible experimentation. He seemed to remain convinced there was a way for the remote to bypass whatever problem the receiver had. Judging from the exertion and movement in his shoulder, that day’s test dealt with the amount of pressure needed on the up channel or down channel buttons. No doubt a new device would be necessary when Jason finally cleared out.

When Amanda put down her purse and keys, Jason turned around. “Oh, hi. Didn’t hear you come in.” He pointed toward the screen. “I thought I had something about half an hour ago. Looked like a flicker of a regular TV image. I’m trying to remember how hard I pressed the button that time.” He shrugged. “I also forgot which channel it was.”

“Maybe you just blinked and were having a flashback to the good ole days when the cable was functioning.”

No reply. He was clearly too intent on his riveting investigation.

“Didn’t the cable guy say the whole street was down because of some retro-conversion thingy?” Amanda sat in the rocker near the couch. Her shapely legs had a light summer tan and were even lovelier when elevated with her office heels.

“So he said. But the neighbor lady had her TV on earlier. I heard it about 10:30.”

“Missus Yodel stopped practicing long enough for you to hear something else from her apartment?”

“Yep. For about fifteen minutes. Must’ve been on the john or something.”

“Any reason to think you couldn’t hear yodeling from her bathroom?”

“She stopped is all I know. I don’t know where the heck she was. Don’t care why, either. My ears were so relieved to have that noise barrage lifted, they practically twitched.”

“I don’t see any twitching.” When Amanda leaned closer, her skirt rode up slightly.

He obviously noticed the enticing view. “Can’t do it now. She’s still practicing. Listen.” Jason turned down the volume of the snow. “Hear it?”

“Uh, yes, I do.” She pointed to the television. “So that’s why you have the volume so high? To mask her serenade?”

Jason nodded. “White noise. The more, the better. Without this buffer, I’d be stark raving mad after eighteen hours of yodeling each day.” He exaggerated; Mrs. Yodel didn’t practice more than about seven hours daily.

“I doubt there’s any yodeling near your apartment. This might be a good time to make the switch, since you’ve got your strength back after exercising on those remote buttons for three days.”

Jason shook his head. “Nah. I’d be all alone over there.”

“You’re alone
here
, you know, for most of the day.”

“But I’m still—”
cough, cough
“—sick, you know.”

“Yes, of course. It’s written all over you.” Amanda crossed her legs and noticed his fascination. She wondered if his desire could somehow be used to get him to leave. Maybe with implied promise of intimacy at his place… later, when he cleaned up.
No!
Amanda abruptly dropped the desire angle — too risky. It might get her in bed with him here… now.
Horrors!
She shifted. “I don’t think you’ve been getting much rest here. You look kind of haggard.”

Jason probably wished he had a mirror so he could see what “haggard” looked like, in case he needed to employ such an expression later.

“We got sidetracked. I doubt Missus Yodel has her cable working. I’ll bet that was a radio you heard.”

“Radio? Do they have game shows on radio?”

“Sure. Satellite radio. They’ve got everything. I’ll bet they’ve even got porn on the radio now.”

“Porn on radio? How… what… ? Hmm. Wonder what station?”

Amanda shrugged. “Or maybe not. I don’t know. Who has time to listen to radio porn?”

Possibly Jason could work it into his schedule.

“So you still believe you can get a TV station, without an antenna, even though the system is down for their analog thingy? How do you figure?”

“Yeah. Those cable guys don’t know everything. When I was a kid, I could get the Playboy Channel by pressing two particular buttons halfway down, at exactly the same time.” He obviously meant the old remotes with wires and about forty numbered buttons. “Pretty fuzzy, but I got it!”

“I can see why you’d keep trying.”

Either he ignored the dig or didn’t catch it. “So are you off for today? Come home to make some real lunch? Want to zip down to the rib place and bring home a rack?”

“Slow down, Mister Sicko. You can’t eat anything but that healthy stuff on Christine’s NASA diet.”

“I don’t think astronauts eat that junk. They eat tubes of goo. Not undersea lab people, either. In fact, I don’t think there are any undersea labs. Christine made up all that stuff just so she could punish me.”

“Punish you for what?”

“Not sure she needs a reason… she might just like inflicting misery. Besides, she’s a witch.”

“She’s not a witch. Christine is my best friend and she’s helping both of us. Helping you recover from debilitating illness and helping me survive your recovery.”

“I told you yesterday I thought she’d put a spell on me.” Jason moaned. “Well, witch or not, I think Christine wants to kill me.”

Amanda laughed. “Why would she want to?”

“I was hoping you could tell me. But she does. Witches don’t need motives to kill anybody. Sometimes it’s just for practice.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“No, I mean it.” He nodded several times. “Just observe her closely — Christine is a practicing, broom-riding witch. And she enjoys tormenting sick people.” He looked at her earnestly. “I’ve been explaining this since the second day I’ve been here. Don’t you remember?”

“I don’t recall hearing any details of your theories. But Christine’s not a witch. Your imagination is more vivid because of your illness.”

“She was here, you know — today, about noon. I thought she’d brought me something to eat, but she just came to put a hex on me.”

“Christine was here? While I was gone?”

“Yeah. She said you knew all about it. She called it poultice therapy.” He lifted up the front of his stained tee-shirt.

Amanda peered closely. “Yikes. When I told you to shave, I meant your face! What happened?”

“She maimed me!”

“Christine shaved you?”

“Not a shave. That witch ripped away my chest skin and nearly plucked my nipple clean off!”

“Wonder why she picked that spot?” Amanda touched the area gently. It was still red and inflamed.

“I think she needed some of my chest hair for her witch’s brew. Or to cast a spell. Probably trading my soul to the devil right now.”

“Oh, I doubt that. Wouldn’t get much in trade… you being sick and all.”

“True—”
cough, cough
“—the devil mainly wants healthy bodies.”

Amanda sniffed several times. “What’s that on your breath? Smells much better than your regular halitosis.”

“Toothpaste. It’s the only thing around here I can stand the taste of.”

“You’re eating toothpaste?” She shook her head as though it would loosen some logic onto the situation. “That’s not food! It’s just abrasive cleaner stuff.”

“Well, I’ve been eating an inch every hour, just to keep myself alive.”

“You’re serious?”

“In survival situations, a man’s gotta do…”

“Yeah. Whatever.” She stared at him intently. “I just hope you don’t get a notion to sample my dad’s hemorrhoid cream.”

Jason looked toward the bathroom. “Does it come in flavors?”

Amanda rolled her eyes.

“So what’s on Christine’s diet for my lunch?” Jason looked hopeful. “I was afraid to go read it on the fridge.”

Amanda rose from her chair and checked in the kitchen. “Sandwich today. Well, kind of a cousin to the typical sandwich. But healthy.”

Jason was thinking. “Something like whole wheat and turkey?”

“Nope.”
Not even that good
. “No bread. Can’t have gluten, remember?”

“Then I’m afraid to ask.”

Amanda pulled out the same rice cake crackers and loudly opened a tin of oily sardines. “The sardines have some omega stuff that Christine says will sharpen your antibodies.”

“They’re already sharp enough. The problem is, I’m starving!”

She’d once seen crackers and sardines served in a Tom Hanks movie. It sounded edible but looked thoroughly revolting.

It was.

Smelled awful, too.

* * * *

Late in the afternoon back at her office, Amanda phoned Christine. “I read your blog entries today from what you’re calling Day Two. Lively stuff. Some embellishment, but definitely entertaining.”

Christine nearly squealed. “
Our
blog. I’m glad you like it.”

“Also read the first entry for Day Three. Why did you yank out all his chest hair?”

“Your Jason squealed like a little girl.” Christine chuckled. “It was just the right nipple area, however. I was originally going to put the poultice on his back.”

“You missed.”

“Changed my mind when I saw his nipples. They were decidedly erect. My Daniel always had flat nipples… just lay there like flabby quarter dollars. But Jason’s nipples looked like they had something interesting to say, and I found myself wanting to listen.” Christine sighed into the phone. “Whatever. The funniest part was that he actually thought white glue would suck impurities from his mammary gland.”

“Do men even have mammary glands?” Amanda had not paid much attention during high school biology. “I thought their nipples were just stuck on the pectoral wall, a bit like Mister Potato Head.”

Christine likely rolled her eyes. “Potato toys don’t have nipples. Do they?”

Amanda ignored the question. “Remember, I told you up front I didn’t want Jason being harmed. You agreed. But this glue thing is over the line.” Long pause to emphasize the seriousness. “No more physical duress. Okay?”

“Got carried away. Sorry.” Christine probably shrugged.

“No more mutilations, whatsoever. Promise?”

“Define mutilation.” Christine paused. “Just kidding. Okay. Promise. I guess I was caught up in the science. But we are gonna scare him into
thinking
mutilation. Wait’ll you see what I found at an obscure market on the east edge of town.”

“Don’t even tell me. I’ll probably have nightmares.” Amanda wasn’t certain how to say this next part, so she used a serious tone and just blurted it out. “By the way, I don’t want you visiting Jason when I’m not there.”

Christine paused before responding. “Uh, I’m not sure if I should be offended…”

“Men act funny around you, ’specially when their girlfriends aren’t present. I just don’t want anything to get complicated. So, no private sessions.”

“I figured you’d be thanking me, Amanda.”

“Maybe I’d thank you if I had been there. But you’re tugging on his nipple when I’m not around… and I worry.”

“Okay, no more day visits.” Christine sighed. “I wasn’t thinking of that other stuff.”

Amanda was a bit rattled that Christine would visit Jason, alone, even if her professed purpose was to energize this bizarre cure. But Amanda wanted it clear that Jason was off limits. She’d made her point, and she was glad it had been by phone. In person, Christine intimidated her slightly more.

“And I promise I won’t apply any more overt punishment.” Christine sighed and then continued her main point. “If we can understand how the male mind suspends rational reasoning during the progression of his debilitating disease, maybe we can replicate it in laboratories. This new program of ours has the potential to eradicate the uncommon man-cold as we know it.”

“That’s something else I wanted to talk about.” Amanda frowned at the phone. “Don’t you think this is going overboard a bit? I mean, these bizarre experiments, and posting all that stuff on the Internet?”