Indigestion
by Suzanne Nielsen
Fever Lang coughed up blood after inhaling a remedy given to her by her elderly neighbor. The bright red coagulated onto her kitchen floor leaving behind a stain resembling stemless roses. Before falling to the floor she fidgeted with her phone camera and captured the blooms within its frame until CLICK, it was recorded as history.
Across the hall lived a busybody emergency room nurse, Gretel Munson. Two days before this incident Gretel left a note on Fever’s door reminding her of the free flu shots at the county hospital. Fever didn’t want handouts so she crumpled the note into a ball for her cat to attack.
The building they lived in did not allow pets. “I hear it all day everyday,” Gretel confessed to Sonia Worth, the elderly woman who lived one floor down. “It chases its shadow while bumping into walls; it never sleeps, just like her,” she told Sonia. Sonia opened her medicinal dictionary and proceeded to make a remedy that she believed would cure the cat of its rambunctious ways.
The next morning Fever watched Sonia through the peephole set something next to her galoshes. Upon opening the door, Fever retrieved an amber medicinal bottle, then quietly closed the door, dead bolting it and replacing the Band-aid over the peephole.
The potion was a clear liquid that carried a tint of pewter. Tied to the bottle cap were instructions for its use. Upon removing the cap Fever inhaled a pungent smell, an odor she was not able to identify. The scent mesmerized Fever, yet she returned the cap only to notice her cat knocking the potion to the floor. Fever grabbed the small bottle and held it in her hand. The curve of the glass fit her palm perfectly. Fever rested her body on the davenport, covering up with a shawl that smelled of rose oil.
She woke to rain beating against her window while the lights in her kitchen flickered until the power failed. It was a darker morning than usual, but Fever still made her way through the shadowed rooms. She walked toward the kitchen when her cat came running at her and clawed its way up to her shoulder. Weather conditions such as they were startled her feline and she remembered the potion. “It says to swallow the contents and wait for a miracle. The potion is guaranteed to cure nervous disorders and insomnia,” Fever read aloud.
As Fever uncapped the potion her cat hissed, and ran to another room. “Down the hatch,” said Fever as she swallowed the contents in its entirety. She called for her cat as her stomach argued with the potion. There was knock at her door. “That cat has to go,” Gretel said before Fever’s ears began to ring and the pain sharpened in her gut. “This is an emergency,” Fever heard Gretel say as she reached for her phone to take a photo of the beautiful blooms resting in front of her before the darkness set in.