Eldrath/These Boots
From Unofficial Handbook of the Virtue Universe
Contents |
Maiden & Crone
Rathi pulled the packing tape over the seam of the cardboard box with a tearing sound as the glue protested being unrolled from the spool. She flicked her wrist and the serrated teeth of the tape gun bit through the ribbon and freed it, then she smoothed it down flush with the side of the box. Just a few more things to pack, then she'd be ready to go, Rathi thought to herself and reached behind her to give her ponytail a tug, tightening it back down. Stray hairs hung in her face and she looked a little bedraggled, but happy. Along the wall near the door a half dozen cardboard U-Haul moving boxes had been stacked. They mostly contained clothes, street casual stuff and her costumes for her dancing work at Mani's, flashy sequins and silks stacked on top of the more alternative attire with its vinyl and latex. One box held a growing collection of school books: psychology, sociology mostly. Her stereo sat unpacked, belting out deep base dance rhythms while she danced about the small apartment in a pair of jeans, a half tee and sandals. maiden
Rathi had been very surprised when Chastity as offered her a flat above SHE's facilities. She had not expected that type of generosity and had been taken aback by it. She also had been flabbergasted by how big the SHE headquarters were as Chastity had led her about the immense complex. Huge libraries, tech labs, occult facilities, transporters, fabrication stations, the sum total was daunting. She'd tried to not look like what she felt she was, a clueless young woman out of her league. Chas had spoken in her clipped British accent, one that Rathi had only heard in reruns of Monty Phython's Flying Circus and never heard spoken aloud by a real person. It made the whole thing all the more surreal, like she'd stepped onto some gigantic James Bond movie set.
Standing up, Rathi casually reached down and hefted the box with grunt. She knew she could have just moved it with her powers, but telekinesis still gave her massive headaches. Besides, never use powers for what you can do with muscle. she'd long ago decided. She'd seen people at GIFT's academy who used their abilities for every mundane little thing and while she supposed there wasn't anything wrong with teleporting a diet Coke from the fridge or floating up three stories to avoid the stairway, something about it irked her. Rathi noticed how people watched her and the other mutants like her. Their awe always mixed with a portion of fear and dash or two of envy. Of course on the other side of the equation, she'd seen more than her share of arrogance at GIFT academy. ESPers felt often felt the were better than their mundane fellows and the whole hero thing was just a nice face on that whole mind set. “Don't worry, we're here to keep you safe,” she thought with a mirthless smile on her lips. Only they wouldn't be, and Rathi knew it. For each crime the heroes stopped, ten succeeded. For every flashy save that made the news, there were a lot of sad brutal stories that would never even get a sound byte or a flash of hero-white teeth for the cameras.
The thought made her stop in the middle of what she was doing. She looked across the flat to the kitchenette. There on the counter sat Mrs. Madivoch casserole dish. Ever since she'd cleared out Rosewood of the Skulls, her neighbors had done all sorts of little things to show their appreciation. You wouldn't see a common stripper getting that type of warm reception, Rathi mused. Still, it touched her. She'd done it because this was her home. And now she was leaving. What would happen? They'd try to move back in of course. Bastards like that always crept in, they were like roaches. The thought of Mrs. Madivoch having to make her way through a drug paraphernalia strewn hallway again made Rathi sick to her stomach. She might have escaped King's Row, but Mrs. Madivoch and all her other neighbors hadn't. Rathi crossed to the bowl and picked the Pyrex dish up in her hands, running her fingers over the smooth glass. Then she turned to the door, opened it and stepped out into the hall, making for Mrs. Madivoch's apartment.
The change that had undergone Rosewood had been extraordinary, wrought mostly by the tenants themselves. Absentee didn't really cover the level of neglect that its owners had shown the complex. While the Skulls had reigned here, no self respecting tradesman would go near the place anyway. Wiring had been exposed, plaster cracked, pipes leaking and heat non-existent. In contrast, the hallway Rathi stepped into was clean and bright. Fresh orange paint covered the walls in warmth. The floor had been stripped down the stained baseboards and the old vomit soaked carpets torn up and discarded. A pair of youths from room 705, down the hall from her place, looked up from their sanding and smiled at Rathi as she passed. They watched her walk appreciatively, eyes fixed on the round curves of her backside, but didn't cat call or make lewd remarks. And when she turned to smile at them, they blushed happily and returned to working the floor. It was like this on every level of the building. The tenants freed of the fear had begun to change Rosewood into what it should have been in the first place, a home. Rathi skipped down the steps to the sixth floor and turned down the hall to 619, Mrs. Madivoch's room. She rapped on the door, the dish dangling in her free hand's fingers.
The face that opened the door looked like a wizened old apple, but had undergone a change similar to what had been working on the whole building. The old woman's visage split in a snaggled-tooth grin at the sight of Rathi and she opened to door wide. Several cats curled around her ankles, but the smell of cat urine had gone, replaced with a fresh clean scent of cleanser and potpourri. Mrs. Madivoch beckoned her in, hobbling in to her kitchen unit which had been repainted canary yellow. The worn taps had been serviced, stopping all the leaks. The stove scrubbed till it gleamed like it had when it had been first installed twenty years previous. The old woman bustled about the room, setting a kettle on and smiling through the black stubble that poked out around her wrinkled mouth. She waved a gnarled hand to the table and Rathi pulled out one of the rickety stools and sat down.
“So you'll be leaving soon,” Mrs. Madivoch said more than asked as she took a pair of tea cups from one of the cupboards, along with a pair of saucers. She laid these on the table and then looked around, squinting through a her thick spectacles for the sugar bowl, which looked like a fat tabby cat and was perched next to a battered old microwave. She carried it to the table and set it down as well and then slumped into a high backed chair slowly, her spine paining her. Rathi nodded, answering her remark. “Good, good. Place like this is no place for a smart girl like you, Rathi. You're right to get out of here.” Mrs. Madivoch reached across the table and took Rathi's smooth bronze fingers in her own pale hoary ones. Rathi looked at the crone's hand, a feeling of guilt twisting in her gut. “So,” Mrs. Madivoch continued, “did you like the casserole?” The old woman nodded toward the empty dish.
“It was delicious, Mrs. Madivoch-” Rathi began, but the old woman cackled cutting her off.
“You call me Rose, dear, no need to be all proper,” the old woman said and winked. On the stove the kettle began to whistle shrilly. Rathi rose and crossed to it, turning the dial to kill the flame and then grabbed an old tattered oven mit from the wall and carried the hot kettle over to the table. The water steamed, sending wafts of vapor up to the ceiling as she poured each glass almost full. Mrs. Madivoch reached across the table and taking a large jar that sat in the center by the lid, she turned it and popped it open. “Lemon Zinger?” She asked holding the jar with it's assorted teabags out to the young woman. Rathi reached in and plucked a teabag out.
“What this one?” she asked and held it out to the old woman to sniff. Mrs. Madivoch took a long drought of air and then sighed with a smile, looking like a blissful dwarf.
“Bengal Spice,” she croaked happily, “one of my favorites. Try it, try it.” The old woman waved her hand motioning for Rathi to drop her teabag into the cup before her. Then she fished out a bag for herself and dropped it into her own steaming cup.
“Rose?” Rathi said, with a perplexed look as the old woman screwed the lid of the jar back on tight and returned it to the centerpiece, “Why do you mix them all together like that? Wouldn't be easier to pick the one you want if you kept them separate?” The old woman grinned, showing her black and yellow teeth and laughed.
“Where would be the surprise in that, girl?” she asked, chuckling with a thick phlegmy sound. The old woman coughed thickly and then sat back still grinning. Rathi nodded, watching her with concern, but Mrs. Madivoch just waved her away. “Drink your tea, dear. It should have steeped up by now.” The old woman lifted her own cup to her lips and sipped at it with a soft slurping sound. Rathi couldn't suppress a smile as she watched her. Finally, Mrs. Madivoch lowered her glass and gave a little sigh of pleasure. “Mint Magic.” she said contentedly.
Rathi nodded, looking into her own cup distractedly as the scent of cloves and ginger spirals out of it, and the old woman clucked her tongue. “Now, what's that look for,” she said with an accusatory tone, “You look like you're going off to the salt mines.” Mrs. Madivoch chuckled. “Out with it, girl!”
“What's going to happen to you... to this place, when I'm gone, Rose?” Rathi asked, lifting her eyes to to old woman's rheumy ones. Mrs. Madivoch looked back for a long moment and then sighed. She rubbed her bulbous nose and then looked Rathi in the face again.
“Eldrath Jonasen, that's not your problem,” she said sternly. “You done enough here already, more than anyone's done for this place in years. You don't owe none of us nothin'. I know you're different, you got them powers and you can do a lot of good, but you remember, Rathi, you're just one person, honey. You ain't got to save the world. You be happy. We'll get by, you'll see. An I expect you to be back here on weekends for pie.” Rathi laughed, and wiped her eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks and Mrs. Madivoch pushed herself out of her chair and crossed over to her enveloping her in a squishy armed hug. Her bristlely lips kissed Rathi's cheek. “You're a good girl, Rathi. Now finish your tea and maybe we can have a few cookies before you have to go.” Rathi sniffed and nodded her head.
“I'd like that,” she said.
Better Living Through Chemistry
The fluorescent bulbs flickered from the ceiling and cast a sickly radiance over the lobby. A nondescript office on the whole, the GIFT co-ordination department betrayed nothing of its purpose. A collection of faux wood, padded chairs lined the walls, upholstered in a dirty burgundy-like felt. A few coffee tables with discarded magazines sprawled upon them sat in front of these. End tables with more periodicals and a few plastic plants flanked the uncomfortable chairs. A window for the receptionist opened on one wall, with a broad counter for filling out forms. Pamphlets sat up there in a small rack, each emblazoned in bright colors proclaiming help for anything from mutant normalization to home financial assistance for settling in Paragon City.
Rathi looked up at the wall clock and then down at her watch. Her mouth drew into an angry line. Four times in as many weeks she'd come downtown to this damn office and each time the story had been the same, a fucking run around. It had been two months since she'd heard from her brother, Reny. Since the death of their parents the two of them had fought to keep hold of one another. To the institution's credit, GIFT officials had facilitated keeping the siblings close. They'd kept Reny in foster homes near the academy, allowing her to visit him regularly. However since her graduation and relocation to Paragon, her contact with the organization had become less obliging.
She'd understood, if she had not agreed with the determination of GIFT officials, that the agency needed to keep Reny in custody. She would have preferred that they turn him over to her own guardianship. Until recently though, she'd barely been able to support herself let alone a minor brother. Also, the officials still hadn't been convinced that Reny wouldn't manifest some sort of mutant ability. So her brother had remained in foster care, while Rathi had started trying to build a nest for him to land in once GIFT deemed him normal. His letters said he looked forward to when they would declare him an adult legally and no longer a ward of the state. For Rathi, dancing and studying had taken up a lot of her time, and if she was to be honest with herself, not a little bit of partying as she discovered her new found freedom. Still, she had kept in close touch with her little brother, writing him often, e-mailing every day from her terminal, and vid-phoning him whenever she could arrange to get through.
That had all stopped. No warning, no fight between siblings, nothing out of the ordinary. At first she'd just assumed Reny had been busy with school work. GIFT schools could be intensive, she knew, even for the normal kids. She'd gone about her business, not thinking much of it. A week went by and no call or message arrived. Annoyed, Rathi had contacted her GIFT liason, Michael Kendall. Mr. Kendall acted as if nothing was amiss. He smiled at her through the vid, his face an idyllic fatherly image with a trim graying beard and those smile lines around his eyes that make older men more handsome and older women insane as they try to cover them up. He assured her that Reny was well, just busy with a new series of tests and that she would be in contact with him again soon. Soon turned into another week though... and then another, with still no contact from Reny and no new information. When Rathi attempted to call Mr. Kendall back, she got shunted to voice mail or disconnected.
As worry began to bloom into paranoia, Rathi had escalated her efforts. She'd showed up at the downtown GIFT offices to speak with a representative in person. The agent was personable, sympathetic... and totally unhelpful. She had also been a trained ESPer. Not that Rathi suspected she knew a damn thing about what had happened to her brother. She wouldn't be able to pop her top though and rifle her mental records in any event. The agent simply apologized and turned Rathi around, pointing her at another branch of bureaucracy or another dead end voice mail. She contacted an attorney, but the fees for even sitting in an office with one would have flattened her bank account and she knew it. The lawyer knew it too, and soon he wasn't returning her calls either.
She almost couldn't believe this could be happening. GIFT couldn't just make her brother disappear could they? Apparently, if it was in the name of the public good, they could. The mutant regulation laws that allowed for incarceration of unsocialized or dangerous mutants left the determination of the status of a mutant up to the GIFT agency. Rathi used her contacts with other university students to pry into the statutes and the more she learned the more her heart sank. What if Reny had manifested something, a late bloomer? What if his psych-profiling had pegged him for trouble? He couldn't be in the Zig so quickly, she knew he couldn't. Did she really know that though? Rathi wondered and worried to herself. She had to admit the fact that she knew nothing, absolutely nothing. Any assumption about what GIFT could or would do had been blown to shit by the stone wall she found herself facing.
Rathi jumped at the feeling of a phone-vibration at her hip. Swearing to herself she pulled her cell from her belt and flipped it open. It chimed and displayed a number she didn't recognize. Rathi did recognize the face that smiled out at her from the small display, however. Karen Winger grinned back at her. Karen had been Rathi's best friend in Mutie School, a phaser and now if word was to be believed, an accomplished thief. Her friend had passed her psych evals with flying colors, which just went to show how worthless they were. She'd disappeared as soon as they'd gotten out of the academy and Rathi hadn't heard a word from her. It had hurt. Rathi had thought of Karen as a sister; they'd been inseparable. Now seeing her face on the small vid-phone she didn't know whether to laugh or to cry.
“Hey, babe,” Karen said, her voice sound warm and mischievous even through the audio compression garble of the phone, “you look like hammered dogshit.”
“Thanks a fucking lot, Karen,” Rathi said, her expression souring as her brows lowered. She knew how she looked. Rathi had not slept well in days, the stress of the whole ordeal had been effecting everything. Her school work had been going into the toilet, her dancing wasn't pulling tips. She had huge bags under her eyes and her face was broken out worse than it ever had in school. Karen's face on the tiny screen frowned, looking remorseful and more serious by the moment. “Oh and thanks a lot for not giving me a word or a call the last several months too,” Rathi said and glared at Karen, her voice going acidic and venomous.
“I know! I know, Rathi! And you're right to be mad-” Karen began but Rathi cut her off.
“Damn right I am, you bitch!” she hissed into the phone. A couple of the other patrons gave her a dirty look but Rathi ignored them. “Just ditch me and take off! Great friend you are.”
“Honey, please, let me explain-” Karen tried again, but Rathi continued on, tears starting at her burning eyes.
“And now they've taken Remy, and they won't tell me anything,” she half growled half sobbed. “How can they do this?” Rathi asked, not really speaking to Karen but the world around her and not expecting an answer.
“Taken Remy? Who's taken Remy, Rathi?” Karen's voice sounded concerned, but Rathi could feel herself boiling.
“Oh what the fuck? Like you care, Karen? I mean you call me up on a lark and now you want to be all involved?! Right!” Rathi said with disgust. She thumbed the red button, hanging up the phone and put her head in her hands, openingly crying now. She ignored the buzzing of the phone in her lap. Karen could fuck herself, for all she cared. Rathi felt and hand on her shoulder and her anger flared. Her head snapped up, white eyes locking on the agent's face was he stood over her.
“Miss Jonasen, is there something I can-” he began.
“You can get the fuck out of my face!” Rathi roared. The agent felt the pulse before it hit him. The air seemed to harden in an arc in front him. He could feel it become dense and viscous, like taffy or rubber. Then it exploded at him. He tumbled end over end, rolling through the air and slammed into the wall with a crash. The couple of other people in the room gave a little screech of surprise and backed off from her. Rathi was on her feet, fists clenched. Horror and anger raged in her head. She'd struck him, a GIFT agent. They could throw her in the Zig for that. She knew now better than ever. She'd screwed up badly. As the agent staggered to his feet, glaring angrily at her, Rathi could hear the door to the main office open. She could feel the minds of the three agents slip out of it, flanking her.
“Ms. Jonasen,” said a female voice. It was out loud and in her head at the same time. She felt the push, lulling her, soothing, draining away her fury. She had to fight back the impulse to strike back, to push that voice from her head. “Ms. Jonasen... Rathi isn't it? We understand. You're upset. Let's just calm down. Come on back and we'll talk this over.” Fear clutched at Rathi's gut. A cold sweat broke out on her back and neck. She could feel the panic just below the surface and so could the agent. “Nothing going to happen, Ms. Jonasen. Just a talk. Just a sit down and a talk. You'll see.” Rathi looked at the woman's face. She was oriental, shorter than Rathi herself, a thin little thing with a boy's body and big brown eyes.
“No...” Rathi said, gritting her teeth. The woman frowned. Rathi felt the presure then. The soft touch in her head turned slowly into a fist. She felt her blood begin to pulse in her temples and a warm trickle ran down over her lips. Rathi's hand went up and she touched it, looking down at the red blood on her fingertips. Rathi hadn't even realized she was resisting. The two agents at either side of the woman stepped forward... and stopped. The air seemed to solidify around them and lifted them from their feet, slowly gliding them back till the bumped with a soft thud against the wall. “I don't want this,” Rathi said in a strained voice. The woman's brown eyes met Rathi's white ones.
“Neither... do... I... please, Eldrath. Submit.” Rathi could feel the woman's concern, her fear, not just for herself and her companions but for the woman before her, for Rathi herself. She was just another ESPer, just like Rathi, trying to do a job. She wasn't part of some conspiracy, she was just a person. Rathi let go and fell as the woman tripped her mind inside her head, dropping her into unconsciousness.
Rathi woke to a throbbing head in a detention cell. The room had the antiseptic smell of a hospital. Bright white tile gleamed on the walls under the harsh fluorescent ceiling lights. One of the two doors was open leading into a bath. Rathi blinked and looked about from where she lay on a thin foam mattress. She'd been dressed in a powder blue hospital gown and leggings. Her feet were bare. A coarse linen blanket thrown across her that did little to keep her warm. Her glasses sat on a small table along side her bed, along with a cup for water. Rathi looked down at her arm and wasn't surprised to see a small bandage taped there where she suspected they'd had an IV. Straps hung from the sides of the bed, but these hadn't been employed, for which she was thankful. Her bladder screamed at her as Rathi sat up and stumbled across the cold floor to the bathroom.
Quickly making her way to the komode, Rathi shimmied out of her thin pants and squatted to relieve herself. She sighed, elbows resting on her thighs, her head resting in her hands as she pissed. Her head still throbbed but it had receded to a dull ache now. Rathi finished and stood up to examine her face in the mirror. She looked wan, dark hollows showing beneath her prominent cheekbones. The white on white of her stare had long ago become commonplace to her, and no change was apparent there. Looking down, Rathi saw a few bars of soap wrapped as if she was staying at the Holiday Inn. A new toothbrush sat along side as well with a unopened travel sized tube of Crest. Despite herself, she chuckled at the absurdity of it. She was a “guest.” Of course.
Rathi kicked her hospital pants away and pulled the gown over her head, tossing it in the pile as well. Turning the taps on the shower, she tested the water with her wrist until it was hot enough to boil lobster. Then she hopped in. The steaming flood scoured her skin, washing away the last dregs of fog that clung about her mind at the same time. She turned slowly, luxuriating in it, feeling it as it flooded over her back and then down her chest. Stooping, she plucked one of the soaps from the dish inset into the wall, stripped off its wrapper and lathered up, covering herself in thick suds. Soon the water sluiced these down the drain as well. Rathi used two of the small shampoo bottles on her hair, taking her time and trying not to think about what was going to happen next. Crème rinse as well? She looked through the steam and plucked another small bottle up. They'd thought of everything. Rathi cut off the taps and pulled a thick towel from the rack next to the shower, blotting herself dry as best she could before reluctantly stepping back out of the bath.
Returning to the main room, she searched the cabinets for her clothes, but found nothing but fresh hospital attire. She pulled these on. Rathi had not finished for more than a minute when a knock came at the door. Someone had been paying attention apparently, Rathi thought and frowned eyes scanning the room for hidden cameras. The doorknob turned and a doctor, or at least a man who looked like a doctor, entered, followed by the little asian ESPer woman from the GIFT office. The woman met Rathi's eyes and their minds touched briefly.
Be calm, Rathi felt the woman's thoughts counseling her, whispering over her mind like a cool breeze.
Well fuck her, Rathi thought back at her, she wasn't the one in the cage, Rathi was. She could feel the woman's sympathy, but it didn't help. Rathi knew she was a prisoner. It was just how badly she had fucked herself she didn't know.
“Ms. Jonasen,” the doctor said in a friendly practiced voice. “How are we feeling today? Well I hope?” Rathi met the man's eyes. She'd become accustomed to getting a taste of the revulsion that people always felt when they got a good look at her eyes. The doctor though didn't resonate an iota of it. He'd likely seen thousands of stranger manifestations she supposed. Her milky orbs wouldn't be worthy of remark.
“I'm fine,” Rathi replied automatically, “better if I'm going to be allowed to go.” The doctor met her gaze for a moment then looked back down at his clipboard, making a few notes.
“I'm not sure that wise, Ms. Jonasen,” he said, sounding infuriatingly reasonable. “Your outburst in the GIFT office points to some psych-factors in your self control. I think releasing you on your own recognizance might be a bit premature , don't you?”
“I'm sorry,” Rathi said lamely, “I was upset, I-” she began, but she could see he wasn't really paying attention. He was here to inform her, not to be reasoned with. Rathi's eyes turned to the ESPer woman, but the agent's mind had been shut, revealing nothing for the moment. “Of course. You're right,” Rathi said finally, sounding defeated. The doctor nodded, holding his chart under his arm as her studied her face.
“I know this doesn't seem fair to you, Ms. Jonasen, but it really is for your own good. We need to help you control your emotions and thereby your powers, or you might hurt someone or do something that could land you in the Ziggurat. Neither of use wants that, do we?” It wasn't really a question, Rathi knew and nodded. “Good. I'm going to prescribe Aldantrin and Visox. Aldantrin is an neural re-uptake inhibitor. It will help even your moods, keep you stabilized. Visox is a mutagenic suppressant. It will keep your abilities dampened until you have a good working level of Aldantrin in your bloodstream. Then you can come off it, alright? We've used these two drugs together many times with very positive results.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Well then, Ms. Jonasen, I'd have no choice but to refer your case to the authorities. Your assault on GIFT personnel is a serious crime, as you well know. The law makes no distinction between assault with mutant abilities and assault with a deadly weapon. As that there were multiple witnesses to the event, I'm sure you would at least be looking at short term incarceration. But really, Eldrath,” he said in a very reassuring tone that came off entirely flat, “there's no need for that to happen. We want to help you. It would be a horrible waste to have a young lady with your talents locked away in a box. Bad for you, bad for us. Think about it.”
Rathi shook her head and smiled bitterly, “I don't need to think about it, Doctor. I'll do it.” He looked mildly surprised, but pleased that she was being so reasonable. Rathi met eyes with the asian woman again. The agent's face showed the briefest expression of suspicion and then relief.
“Good, the nurse will be in then in a few minutes with your medication. We'll keep you here for a week, to monitor your blood-work and make sure you are at a suitable dosage. Then we'll release you, provided you check in with us weekly for the time being. We'll need to verify that you're continuing to take the medication. You'll also need to speak with a counselor as part of your treatment.” He smiled at her again, that fake damn doctor's smile. She suspected he had two expressions, that happy friendly idiot one Rathi was being treated to now, and the grave “you have cancer” face that he used on her when he talked about referring her to corrections. The doctor and the agent took their leave, making their way to the door. Just before she'd made her way out, the ESPer woman stopped and turned back to Rathi, her expression thoughtful.
“I'm sorry we had to meet this way, Ms. Jonasen,” she said. It sounded genuine, and Rathi felt her guard let down so that she could see that it was. “As soon as I'm able, I'll arrange to bring you your things, if you would like. My name is Yan, Yutsuko Yan.” Rathi stared back at her for a moment, mistrust gnawing at her. Then she gave a little nod, garnering a smile from Agent Yan. The woman nodded back to her and slipped out, letting the door close behind her.
Rathi pushed the door to her apartment open, spilling light from the hallway into the flat. She flicked the switch on the wall in the entry way and the ceiling lamps flashed into life. Closing the door behind her, Rathi slumped against it, letting out a long low sigh. Through the shadows of her living room, she could make out the picture window and the city beyond. Small squares of light, broken up here and there by a passing silhouette, or a blue flash from a television.
“I'm home,” she whispered to the empty flat.
Her footfalls echoed down the hallway as she passed the kitchen. SHE's cleaning people had been in and the room was spotless, not a dish in sight. Two weeks, what would she tell Chas if she asked? “Locked up in the loony bin, boss,” she said out loud to herself and laughed. Her voice sounded brittle in her ears. Rathi crossed to the fridge and opened it. She took a tall bottle of wine cooler from the rack and popped the top, dropping the cap into the garbage under the sink. After a couple long swallows, savoring the fruity taste she put the chill bottle to her forehead. It still ached. Visox acted as a narcotic. The doctors had warned her to expect some minor symptoms of withdrawal as she came off it, hot flashes and headaches, maybe some nausea. They'd been on the money. Going on twenty four hours now and she felt like a large man had worked her over with a small hammer. Every muscle ached, every joint complained. Even her teeth hurt. All Rathi wanted to do was curl up under the covers of her bed and wait it out.
She swayed through the dark living room, passing the small end table where her phone sat. The red voicemail light winked at her conspiratorially from the handset's cradle. Rathi looked at it and then down the hall to her waiting bed. She hesitated then picked the handset up. Rathi thumbed the call button and entered her code.
“You have one message,” said the electronic voice in monotone. “November 15, 11:45 PM, from an unlisted number.” Another voice cut in, Karen's voice.
“Rathi, I can't talk on this line, but I just wanted to say I'm sorry. You were right, I shouldn't have just disappeared like that on you. I want to make it right between us. Can you meet me? Maybe at the “D”? I think I can help with your problem. Just show up there, alright, any night? I've friends who will be looking out for you. I'll get there when you are. I'm sorry about the cloak and dagger, hon. I'll explain soon. Love you.” The computerized voice broke in again, offering to save or delete the message. Rathi punched the delete button and hung up the receiver.
Her head throbbed again and Rathi swayed on her feet, leaning her shoulder against the wall. Her stomach churned. What could Karen want? Rathi's drug fuzzed mind could barely piece together the argument they'd had. She'd yelled at Karen, she knew that much. She'd have to apologize. She'd been so whacked out. That could happen tomorrow though, Rathi thought. For now, she would go to bed. Rathi stumbled down the hall way and then she poured herself onto the mattress. She fell asleep before her head hit the pillow and sprawled on the coverlet.
