= 13. =
 "I’m having a bit of trouble with the phone," she said. "The storm must be affecting the landlines as well."
Outside, thunder growled and lightning flashed in the rain-spattered window.
She brought two steaming mugs of tea, each with a paper square dangling on a string, and the tea bag still inside. "This will steep and be a good, strong brew for you. I like it with a little bite to it."
She set one cup down on the wooden counter. The stools were on the other side in the little walkway between kitchen and living room. "Here is yours." She paused opposite him, across the glass-topped coffee table strewn with magazines. She must be putting brandy in, Martin thought as he watched her pert behind hidden amid large cloth print flowers and leaves.
Having finished, she turned and set his tea before him.
She grabbed her tea form the counter and sat down opposite him, cradling the mug in both hands. "What do you do, Martin?"
"I’m a writer."
"Oh, how exciting. What do you write? Poetry? Stories?"
He grinned. "The Reasonably Good If Not So Great American Novel." He lifted his cup by its hot handle and sipped. "Delicious," he said. "Tastes a bit like peaches."
"It has peaches in it," she said appreciatively. "You are a man who knows his tea."
He sniffed. "Is that a little bit of almond in there as well?"
"Nuts," she said with a bright smile, showing her teeth as he rumpled her nose and cheeks up. "We are all a bit nuts, aren’t we?"
He shrugged. For want of a rejoinder, he took another sip. It was hot, but sweet. He relished the comfort of the hot liquid. Warmth spread down his neck, his torso, and his limbs.
"I have stomach troubles," she said brightly. "Do you?" She rose and went into the kitchen. Moments later, she returned holding a bottle of clear liquid and a smaller brown bottle. "Angostura Bitters," she said. "I take some every day with club soda. Would you like some?"
My stomach is fine, he thought, but it seemed he could not speak.
She sat back down with that sunny expression on her face. She produced a clean glass from the bookshelf behind her, set it on the coffee table, and unscrewed the soda bottle lid. It made a loud hissing noise. Then it made a gurgling sound as she poured herself a full, fizzing glass. "I love this stuff," she said. "It is so soothing." She unscrewed the lid on the smaller bottle and shook it upside down over the glass. Reddish, bloody colored liquid fell into the club soda. The soda water became reddish-brown and glowed like a red lantern in the gloomy living room. It almost flickered hypnotically in the dancing light from the fireplace.
"I’ll see if Josie wants to come join us," Marsha said.
Martin watched, paralyzed, as if he were sitting inside a fishtank looking out from the water.
"Josie!" Marsha called, turning toward the closed door. "Josie dear! Come on out and meet Mr. Martin Brown. He sneaked in here and thought he could fool us, but we fooled him, didn’t we?" She gave Martin a look so filled with baleful hate and evil that he might have reacted with fear or a chill, except he felt numb all over. Waves upon waves of deadening neuropathy settled through his system. He could feel the drug—whatever she had given him—spreading along the axes, axons, and neurons, highways and byways, of his nervous system. So far, it was mostly clouding his peripheral nervous system, so that he could hardly lift a hand or twitch a finger. His legs felt as if they were made of rubber. It was not an altogether bad feeling, but rather pleasant, as if he was waiting to drift off to sleep.
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Thank you for reading the first half (free, what I call the Bookstore Metaphor). If you love it, you can (easily and safely at Amazon) buy the whole e-book for the painless price of a cup of coffee—also known as Read-a-Latte (hours of reading enjoyment; the coffee is gone in minutes, but the book stays with you forever). You can also get those many hours of happy reading from the print edition for the price of a sandwich (no, I don't have a metaphor for that, like a 'sandwich metaphor?'). To help the author, please recommend this book your friends, and also post a favorable (five star!) review at Amazon, Good Reads, and similar online reader resources. Thank you (JTC).
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