Fed Up by Jessica Conant-Park, Susan Conant Read Free Book Online Page B

“I’ve got terrible cramps, and I think I might throw up. Is there a bathroom downstairs?”
    Digger moved the trash can next to her. “In case you don’t make it to one,” he said. “I might need it, too. I could hurl any second. I think we’ve got food poisoning.”
    “From the way I feel, you’re probably right,” Marlee agreed. “There’s got to be a bathroom down here. Leo?”
    For the first time, I noticed Leo, who was leaning against a wall as if propping himself up. He looked frozen in place, and his face was blank.
    “Leo!” I said sharply. “Is there a bathroom downstairs?”
    He shook himself and pointed to a doorway. “Through there.” Sounding like a robot, he added, “I’m going back upstairs. Maybe I can . . .”
    “Here, Marlee, I’ll help you.” Robin took Marlee’s hand and led her out of the room.
    As I watched them leave, I noticed to my horror that Nelson was standing in the dining room doorway with his face hidden behind his camera.
    “Nelson, turn that camera off!” I demanded. “Stop it! This is no time—”
    “Cannot do. I’m filming reality here. Raw reality! This is great!”
    Glaring at him, Josh said, “Yeah, this is a great, Nelson. It’s goddamn perfect.”
    “Nelson,” I said, “the average rock would have more sensitivity than to film us right now. Turn the camera off! Unless you want me to grab it and shove it—”
    Josh interrupted me. “There’s the ambulance. You hear the sirens?”
    “Yes,” I said. “Thank God.”
    I’d somehow expected help to pour in through the back door, but when the doorbell rang, Josh went through the dining room, opened the front door, and took charge of directing the newcomers upstairs to where Francie lay on the bathroom floor. I felt certain that she was dead, but medical personnel and the police could hardly be expected to take my word for her condition, and there still remained a chance, I told myself, that I was wrong. The possibility made me feel guilty: what if I’d abandoned Francie when my presence might have comforted her?
    While I could still hear the sounds of feet pounding up the stairs, Marlee reappeared from the bathroom. Her color was worse than it had been before. She had a greenish tinge, and her damp hair clung to her cheeks. “I heard the ambulance,” she said. “Chloe, get someone to help me, would you? I’m sick. I’m so sick.”
    You and everyone else, I wanted to say. What I actually said was, “I’m not too well myself, and neither are—” I broke off. What if Marlee was becoming as horribly ill as Francie had been? “I’ll see if I can get someone,” I promised. With that, I made my way to the front hall, where the outside door stood open. Through it, I could see more official vehicles than I expected: two police cruisers and two big ambulances. As I stood there wondering how to summon help for Marlee—holler loudly? actually venture upstairs?—a handsome young EMT came bounding down, and at the same time, Josh appeared through the wide doorway to the living room.
    “I’m sorry to bother you,” I said to the EMT, “but there’s someone in the kitchen who wants help. She’s sick, too. And so are—”
    “I’m going to check everyone out,” he assured me, “and then we’re probably going to take all of you to the emergency room.”
    “I’m fine,” Josh claimed.
    “No, he’s not,” I insisted. “He threw up all over the place.”
    “Yeah, I did throw up. I feel okay now, though. I’m fine.”
    “Josh, you don’t know that!” I insisted. “But the one who’s feeling really bad is Marlee. And Digger is sick, too.”
    “Give me a minute,” the EMT said.
    “We’ll be in the kitchen,” I told him. “It’s in there, through the dining room.”
    The EMT hurried out through the front door. As Josh and I were on our way to the kitchen, we paused in the dining room to exchange a few words.
    “Francie?” I asked.
    He shook his head. “They had to do their thing,