Bitch Witch (24 page)

You cast poison. You wanted to annihilate her.

No. Not really. How often do people say drop dead without really meaning it? I meant it like that.

Lie to yourself if it helps.

Sarah tried to move but couldn’t. She couldn’t feel her body, yet the mass of the planet seemed to weigh her down. Her eyes wouldn’t open. She wasn’t certain how they functioned anymore.

“No change?” an unfamiliar voice asked.

Sarah tried to locate her mouth to answer. All lines were down.

“None.” Paul’s voice sounded close by.

“Hmph,” said the other one. An older woman with a wicked South Boston accent, all misplaced
R’s
and jumbled words. “Yanno yaneed to take care of ya-self too, Mr. Longfella. Go home, get some sleep. Maybe take a shower.” She pronounced it
sh-ow-wah
.

“I will, after she wakes up.”

“Sometimes it takes a while. Have pity on the nursing staff, or at least me. If ya don’t care that we have to smell ya, consider that it’s entirely possible that Ms. Archa can smell ya.” Possible came out
par-sable
.

“Do you think so, Doctor Shaw?” Paul sounded hopeful. If Sarah could have rolled her eyes, she would have.

“It’s absolutely par-sable.”

The doctor was lying. At least Sarah thought so. She couldn’t smell a thing. She couldn’t figure out where her nose was or how she was breathing. A rhythmic hissing and beeping in the background offered a horrible clue that she chose to ignore.

“Is it true that the longer she’s in the coma, the more unlikely it is that she’ll come out of it?”

“You’re not getting on the Google, are you? Stay off the Google. Ms. Archa will do what Ms. Archa does. I see some amazing grace in my practice. We’re going to get some of that for your friend here.”

“Two weeks is a long time though, isn’t it?”

“Depends on what you’re talking about. I can tell ya that two weeks is too long to go without a shower. You’re in a hospital. We keep things sanitary. Your underthings must have disintegrated by now.”

Sarah could hear Paul shift uncomfortably in his chair. She would have smiled if she could have found her mouth controls. The doctor was embarrassing him.

The squeak and rattle of a metal tray table with wheels scraping across the floor followed the shuffling of many feet. More people must have entered the room.

“We need to swap out some of these tubes. Are you staying again?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe I’ll have you do it then. We could leave this stuff here and go take care of another patient who has visitors that bathe regularly.”

There was a clacking sound as the bedrails dropped and a low
wup-wup
as blankets were spread. Someone hummed low in their throat, a tune Sarah recognized from church. Dark matter writhed inside her, clawing in protest, and Sarah dropped into a fiery inferno again.

“THERE ONCE WAS a dude from Pawtucket who caught some kelp in a bucket. It tasted like crap, so he threw it all back, and ordered some pizza saying fuck it. That, in a nutshell, is why I’m overweight, Sarah. Just in case you were wondering.”

Mindy Millerton!

“I would have brought flowers, but you let the last bunch die. Like you couldn’t get your lazy ass up and water them? That’s inconsiderate. I spent almost ten dollars on those. Well, not quite ten. I took up a collection at work so technically I made close to a hundred dollars profit. Maybe I will send you some more. At least as long as people keep falling for it—I mean, contributing. You’re boring the fuck out of me. Not as much as when you talk, but close. Give me that remote.”

A moment later the television clicked on. Sarah listened to an entire episode of Survivor before it abruptly shut off.

“I thought you were going to keep her company!” Paul sounded angry. “You said you’d talk to her the whole time I was gone!”

“I did, but then she wanted to watch some TV.”

“She said something?!”

“I could sense it,” Mindy said. “You do know she’s faking. I could see her eyes moving under her eyelids.”

“Even when she’s herself, Sarah doesn’t watch TV,” Paul said, his impatience obvious.

“She could have said.”

“You’re not funny, please go. I’ll find someone else to stay with her next time I have to leave.”

“Avery Gross would do it. He’d probably feel her up though, if you left him alone. He’s a total perv I heard. Hey, are you the one he punched in the face?”

“No. That was my brother.”

“He’s still bragging about it at work, like every day. Says you were attacking Sarah in her car and he rescued her and kicked your ass.”

“My brother and Sarah were making out in her car. Avery jumped inside uninvited and sucker punched Henry in the face. Once, I think.”

“I can’t believe you let him get even one punch in. He’s kind of a pussy.”

“He punched my brother, not me!” Paul said in exasperation.

“Why were you attacking Sarah in her car anyway? I’m pretty sure she puts out fairly easy.”

“Mindy, I thought you were her friend.”

“She wants more, but I’m really not into her like that. I mean look at her. She just lays there. That doesn’t do it for me. I’m guessing it does for you though.”

“Maybe you should go,” Paul said without humor.

Mindy heaved to her feet. Sarah heard something creak like she’d grabbed onto the bed to pull herself to stand. “Yeah, I’ve got to get up early tomorrow anyway. Hey, can you think of anything that rhymes with Crapstone?”

“What?”

“Crapstone. It’s a town in England. I’m working on a poem for Sarah, but all I can come up with is twat-bone. Not only does that not really rhyme, I don’t even know if a twat-bone is a thing. I think I invented it. In my head, I mean. I don’t know. Maybe we could ask one of the doctors about it. Hey, whoa, whoa, mister-mister.”

Sarah had a distinct impression Paul had taken hold of Mindy to drag her out of the room.

“Let’s not get all handsy,” Mindy insisted. “I hardly know you. Is this why Avery punched you? You’re making me highly uncomfortable. I could get into it though, now that you smell better.”

“Mindy, I can’t tell if you’re joking around or if you’re being serious.”

“That’s probably why Sarah’s dating your brother.”

“Goodnight, Mindy.”

“Hey, you’re going to throw me out now that we’re getting to second base? You should see me slide into home.”

Sarah heard the door shut, and thought Paul stood there for a moment holding it closed. She assumed Mindy had left when he chuckled and crossed the floor. Although she couldn’t feel it, Sarah heard Paul lean over her and adjust blankets.

“You know she claims to be your best friend. I don’t know whether to believe her hands-down, or call security when she shows up.”

Believe her.
The thought warmed Sarah. Dark matter didn’t like it. As the feeling waned, searing heat blasted her away from consciousness once more.

“MOM, THIS IS awk-weird. Are you sure she’s alive?”

Sarah didn’t recognize the young voice.

“Of course I’m sure.”

That voice she did recognize.
Jackie Hamilton from Human Resources. What on earth is she doing here?

The flush of a toilet sounded from nearby, followed by the scrape of a door opening.

“Hello!” Paul sounded surprised.

“Hello, I’m Jackie Hamilton from Mass Power and Light.” Sarah could almost see them shaking hands, extra firm and brief, the way Jackie rolled. “This is my daughter Mary Elizabeth. We just stopped by for a moment to pay our—visit.”

“It’s good of you to come. I’m Paul Revere Longfellow.”

Mary Elizabeth snickered and Sarah wondered not for the first time why Paul didn’t drop his middle name when introducing himself.
Who does that?

“Yes, I recognize you,” said Jackie.

“From the parking lot? No. That was my brother, Henry. We’re twins.”

“What’s his middle name?” Mary Elizabeth asked.

“You probably guessed it,” Paul said, a smile evident in his voice. “Wadsworth.”

“Does Henry Wadsworth Longfellow write poetry?” giggled the girl.

“Mary Elizabeth,” Jackie admonished her. “You and your brother don’t talk like you’re from here.”

“We’re not, although we both went to college up here.”

“You did? Where?” asked Jackie, incredulous northern superiority in every syllable.

“Henry went to Harvard, and I went to Bowdoin up in—”

“Really,” interrupted Jackie, “your brother went to Harvard? Maybe it’s not so tough to get into with your last name.”

Sarah just knew Jackie winked as she said that.

“My mom wants me to go to Harvard,” explained Mary Elizabeth. “But it’s not looking good.”

“How’s our patient?” asked Jackie, changing the subject.

For a moment Paul didn’t answer. When he did, his voice sounded determined. “Fine. Sarah will be fine. She only needs time.”

“Yes.” Jackie didn’t sound like she believed him. “Well, we only stopped by for a minute. If there’s anything we can do—”

“There is. You can make sure Sarah has a job to go back to.”

“Well, now—”

“That Avery fellow still does, doesn’t he? He didn’t get fired, and the way I understand it is he went after Sarah uninvited.”

“Now, no. I spoke to Avery. Sarah asked him to meet her in the parking lot.”

I did not!

“I find that hard to believe. It doesn’t make sense that she’d have any interest in another man. Sarah and Henry were rather—close.”

Paul sounded uncomfortable saying it, and Sarah appreciated him defending her.
Wait. Were close? Past tense?
At least I know how to break a love spell. Go in a coma.
Other than residual surprise that information didn’t bother Sarah, but neither did the unpleasant click and hiss of nearby machines she chose to ignore.

Jackie slipped into professional mode. “Mr. Longfellow, I personally saw Ms. Archer and Mr. Gross in an embrace right before the incident.”

You did not! You saw that ape manhandling me!

“If that’s the case, why is Sarah’s job in jeopardy and not Avery’s? It sounds like sexism, and frankly I’m surprised you’d allow that.”

For a moment the room got so quiet Sarah wondered if she’d passed out and come to after everyone had gone.

“I wouldn’t,” Jackie said at last. “You can be assured of that. I’m not free to discuss Mr. Gross’s situation with anyone outside the company. Suffice to say he was acting in Ms. Archer’s best interest as he understood it at the time.”

“Which wasn’t the case at all.”

“Is there any chance that Ms. Archer’s medical condition might have affected her judgement during the incident in the parking lot?”

Paul exhaled loudly. “There is every chance of that.”

He’s thinking about the spell.