“I don’t know. I’m not sure. I feel hot and then cold, angry and then sad. My body feels as if it’s turning to stone and then suddenly is normal again.”
“Come home,” she said. “Ava will pick up Marla today.”
“Is there something wrong with me?”
“No, nothing is wrong, but I’d rather you were home right now.” She hung up before I could ask or say anything more.
I went to the office and checked myself out. Before anyone could ask any real questions, I was gone. Mrs. Fennel was waiting for me when I arrived home. She was standing in the kitchen doorway and holding a glass of greenish liquid.
“I want you to drink all of this and then go to your room to rest,” she said.
“I don’t understand what happened to me. What is that?”
“Just do what I say,” she snapped back, and thrust the glass at me.
I took it, looked at her, and drank it. It didn’t taste as terrible as it looked, and when it went down my throat, it made me feel warm, but it was a soothing warmth.
“Now, go to bed for a while,” she told me.
“Is Daddy here?”
“He is not,” she said. “Go to bed.”
She turned, and I went down to my bedroom. I got undressed and crawled under the blanket, resting my head softly on the pillow and closing m
y eyes.
In moments, I was asleep. When I awoke, it was dark out. I rose slowly and looked at the clock. I had slept for hours. It took me a few moments to stop feeling numb and groggy, and then I began to dress. It was too late for dinner, but I imagined Ava, Marla, and Daddy were in the living room. Suddenly, however, my door burst open. Ava stood there glaring in at me.
“What?” I asked.
“Did you say anything to him?”
“Who?”
“Don’t play games with me, Lorelei. I’ll ask you again. Did you say anything to him?”
“You mean Buddy Gilroy? No,” I said. “Why do you ask?”
She studied me a moment and then relaxed and entered, closing the door behind her. “Something is wrong,” she said, sitting on my bed. “He avoided me all day, and I deliberately went looking for him.”
“Did he ask about me?”
“What? No, of course not. Maybe he’s really gay,” she said. Ava could not stomach any rejection. It pleased me to see her suffering so.
“Maybe he is,” I said. “I read where some gay college guys try to look like heterosexuals in front of their friends because they’re ashamed of what and who they are or they’re afraid of being ridiculed.”
She considered. “Maybe,” she said. “If that’s true, he won’t be good for Daddy, anyway. I’ll have to rethink it all.”
“Whatever you say, Ava.”
She looked at me as if she had just realized I was there. “What happened to you today?”
I described my symptoms.
She listened and nodded. “It’s normal,” she said.
“It happened to you?”