Fallout (Crank 3)

I get a couple of ibuprofens

from Aunt Cora, go looking

for something to wash them

down with. Score! Minibar.

Pricey water, soda, and yes,

liquor. Very pricey liquor.

But hey, the credit card

is buying, right? Three-dollar

Coke. Six-dollar miniature bottle

of Dewar’s. Never tried scotch

before. Ugh. Not great. But too

late to turn back now. Nine

dollars’ worth of refreshment

later, I lie down on the bed.

The headache fades and I close

my eyes to rest up before dinner.

NEXT THING I KNOW

A thumping brings me around.

No, not thumping. Knocking. Loudly.

On the door. I sit up, too quickly.

My head feels like a merry-go-round,

and I think maybe I have to throw up.

“Who is it? Hang on, I’m coming.”

It’s me. Aunt Cora, of course.

Are you about ready? Hurry up.

I’ll wait for you in the lobby.

Ready? What? I glance at the clock.

Almost five. How long did I sleep?

Bathroom. Quick. To throw up or not

to throw up? I give it the old college