Itsy-Bitsy Spider

by Dale Mayer

  “I’ll get the delivery man to bring it right to you, and I won’t even come by, okay?” He almost heard a mental shrug. He didn’t know what that could be, but it was like he felt her acceptance.

  She gave him her address.

  He wrote it down and said, “What do you want? Greek or Chinese?”

  “Greek,” she said. “And make it lots.” And she hung up.

  He chuckled. Queenie was feast or famine. She didn’t eat, and then she couldn’t stop eating. And he had no doubt that she hadn’t eaten enough in days. He checked out the location of her address and shook his head.

  She was at the edge of the seedy part of town. If she was lucky, she’d found a place to live that wasn’t rent by the hour. But knowing her, she wouldn’t give a damn. She’d feel right at home. Her self-esteem and self-care had dropped to almost nil after the one case had blown up in her face.

  Queenie had gone through hell and back losing a child. He’d gone to her address at the time to see if she had any pets in need of care, and that was when he found toys and little people clothing in her apartment. Not that it was much of an apartment, more like a one-bedroom studio, a sign of how poorly she’d been doing. It had been heartbreaking. He knew it wasn’t his problem, but, at the same time, it hurt to see her struggle so much. There also hadn’t been any sign a partner lived with her.

  That had made him both mad and happy. Stupid.

  He pulled up his Contacts list, found the Greek restaurant and called them, only to find out they wouldn’t deliver to her address. Swearing softly, he placed an order anyway and said he’d be there in thirty minutes to pick it up. He would have to change his plans and take the meal to her. He didn’t blame the lack of delivery service to her area. He imagined he would have the same problem with a lot of different restaurants.

  By the time he got back to his car and crossed town to where his favorite Greek restaurant was, he only had to wait another ten minutes for the order. He paid for it and then drove past the amusement park to where Queenie currently lived. He parked in the motel’s parking lot and got out, the smell of Greek food filling his nostrils. He didn’t think she’d share at this point. He expected to have the door slammed in his face. After all, he had told her that he would just have a delivery man take it to her.

  She might suspect a trick if he delivered it. He walked to the outdoor hallways, realizing it was more of a motel that probably rented by the week or by the month. He could see her room number on the second floor at the far end of the building. There was an outdoor staircase. He climbed the stairs and rapped on the door. When it opened, she took one look, and her mouth dropped.

  He held up the bag in his hand. “I didn’t have a choice,” he said. “They wouldn’t deliver here.”

  She frowned as if assessing his answer and then gave a quick nod. She pulled the door open, and he stepped inside. It was clean but painfully empty. She had a single old couch and chair and a low coffee table in the living room. There was no TV, nothing but a laptop. He followed her into the kitchen area where she had a folding table and two lawn chairs, more evidence of her lifestyle.

  She snatched the bag from his hand, placed it on the table and opened it up. She carefully lifted out the four dishes he’d ordered, then cast him a glance. “Is this supposed to be enough for you too?”

  He snorted. “I know how you eat. So I guess not.”

  She smiled. Her voice was soft, when she said, “I don’t eat quite the same anymore. When I’m not doing that same kind of work, I don’t need the same number of calories.”

  “Don’t you do that kind of work at the amusement park?”

  She glanced at the food. “Well, today I did, so who knows? Maybe I will eat lots.” She opened up the dishes and smiled. “But, since you delivered it, I’ll be nice and share.”

  He had half a mind to say, Don’t bother, and then he thought, To hell with it. He nodded. “Thank you.”

  She went to the small cabinet to get two plates. They were mismatched, and one had a small chip. But she didn’t seem to notice. He pulled out one of the lawn chairs and sat down. She got two forks and a couple serving spoons, and proceeded to split up the food, half and half. Some was still left in the containers, which was good because, if she had had the kind of day she used to have, she would need it.

  She took the first couple bites and then sighed happily, sitting back. “I’d forgotten.”

  “How good Minnelli’s was?” he asked, not sure what she meant.

  “About good food,” she said with a laugh. “I haven’t had Minnelli’s since we were together. But I also haven’t enjoyed much good food. The amusement park hot dogs are cheap.”

  “There was a time you wouldn’t eat hot dogs.”

  “There was a time when I could afford to be picky,” she said, calmly eating another big bite of lemony potatoes.

  He had to admit that, when one was broke, perspectives changed. He ate slower than she did, wondering if he could give her half of his plate because she was working through the contents of hers at an alarming rate. He got up and poured himself a glass of water. After asking her, he poured her one too. When he returned, her plate was almost empty.

  She sat back with a happy sigh and said, “That was wonderful.”

  “So maybe you had a rougher day today after all?”

  “Not really. Just my boss has been doing ads, driving a lot of business into my tent. Apparently the word is spreading. But it’s exhausting. Even if it’s only five bucks a question, that’s still a dozen questions in an hour, if not twice that. He wants them to get the question, get the answer and move on so I can do many more an hour. But it’s too much.”

  He stared at her in alarm, seeing the fatigue and the pallor on her face. “That many?”

  She nodded. “And today it was hours upon hours. I haven’t even counted the money. I don’t have a clue how many people went through there.”

  “And how much of that money do you get?”

  “Half,” she said. “But I can’t keep this craziness up. Carlos came in upset because the tent was empty, thinking he had to up the ads. And I told him that he had to stop them—or at least decrease them—or hire somebody else.”

  “What did he say?” But Kirk knew the answer. When they had an attraction that made money, they tried to scale it up in a big way. Because nothing ever lasted forever.

  “He told me to just make up the answers,” she said disgustedly.

  “Ouch.” He knew one thing. That was something she couldn’t do. Queenie was as honest as the day was long. “I’m sure you told him that wasn’t possible.”

  “I did,” she said, running a hand through her hair, upsetting the curls riding across her face. She blew out of breath and tossed a tendril back up in the air. She reached up impatiently and brushed it back off her face, tucking it behind her ear. “He didn’t want to hear that either.”

  “No, but, for you, you have to give the truth.”

  “And most of the time I can do that, or at least hedge it so it’s more of a positive answer. But sometime I can’t do anything about it, as you well know.”

  “Like the lady in the lake?”

  She nodded. “A little boy came to see me a couple days ago. The same day as the murdering man. And the little boy had a cone over his head.”

  “That must have been tough.” Kirk laid down his fork. “How did you handle that?”

  “I didn’t have to say anything to him thankfully. But of course it affected me. It always affects me.”

  “Especially when it’s a little boy.”

  She nodded but didn’t say anything, just continued to pick away at the last of the food on her plate.

  He stared at his food and thought what it must be like when you looked at a person and could tell they were going to live or die. Or when someone walked toward you with the cone over their head, something he’d never understand. Do you tell him? Or do you stay silent? In Queenie’s case she usually stayed silent, wanting to believ
e there was a chance to change that fate.

  He didn’t know if she ever followed up on the people with cones. It wasn’t something she could really ask them about. But it had to be tough seeing that over a young boy, particularly after losing her own. And, if she hadn’t been in a coma, would she have seen the cone over her son’s head? How many days had she been in that coma? He frowned, wondering about that. But it was hardly something he could ask her about.

  *

  Maddy collapsed at her desk. What a day. She kicked off her heels, got up, walked to the corner of her office and sat down on the big floor cushion. She leaned against the wall, her back straight, her hands palms up on her knees and started deep breathing. She needed to do this for herself, no matter her patients. She was due to see Brian next. Here at her office, in the one room they had available for treatment. She had no clue what she would find, but it seemed important that he come. At the same time, something disturbed her floor. Energy floated there that she didn’t like. Something was off.

  She rubbed at her temples. Stefan, any idea what’s going on with my floor?

  Sorry, I’ve been painting all day. What’s the problem?

  I’m not sure. Just felt it in the last half hour or so. But something’s moving.

  Can you do an assessment?

  It’s this man who came via Kirk and Queenie that I’m about to see next.

  Did the disturbance start when he arrived? Stefan asked sharply.

  She froze, opening her gaze to look around her office and frowned. I have no idea.

  I’m not sure it makes any difference, but it could be that whatever is going on with him is causing the problem.

  She chuckled. So some guy finds out he’s got cancer, comes to see me and decides everybody else in the world has to suffer?

  No, but we’ve seen a lot of weird things.

  I know. I know.

  Just then her intercom buzzed, letting her know Brian had arrived.

  I’ll let you know what I find out afterward. She disconnected from Stefan. He wouldn’t be upset. She’d had to do it many times over the years.

  She dropped herself into a deep meditation and stepped up and out of her body. Brian could wait five minutes. She slipped out to the hallway and studied the energy from the entrance to all the patients. Everything looked normal. But there was definitely a ripple, like a frayed edge somewhere. She headed toward Brian. His wife was here, as was his child. Maddy studied the wife and then the child. All the energy was normal—hopeful, scared, looking for good news, terrified it wasn’t coming.

  Then she studied Brian. She hadn’t seen him on this level before. But a ton of darkness was in his system, darkness she didn’t like the look of.

  Stefan’s voice whispered in her head. No, I don’t like it either. That’s not his energy.

  If it isn’t his energy, who the hell’s is it, and why does Brian have it?

  She approached, knowing the others wouldn’t see she was here, at least not likely to notice. It was always possible she was up against a strong psychic, or the child might have more awareness than the parents understood. But at the moment Kirsten sat, playing with her mom’s cell phone. Games presumably. Maddy approached the chair where Brian sat talking to his wife, studying the blackness deep inside his muscles and bones. But it wasn’t the black of a disease. Stefan was right; it was somebody else’s black. Maddy wanted to look beneath it. She reached out a hand. As she did so, Brian winced and shuddered.

  Instantly his wife asked, “Are you okay, Brian?”

  He gasped and nodded. “Just a sudden sharp pain.” He squeezed his wife’s hand. “We have to face the fact my time is almost over.”

  But Maddy wasn’t so sure about that. As a matter of fact, she was pretty damn sure what was going on wasn’t anything quite so simple. The end result would be the same. Brian would die if Maddy didn’t do something fast, if she was capable of doing something that would stop this. From what she could see right now, the only thing clear was that somebody was doing this to Brian. He had been slowly and systematically poisoned.

  This knowledge slammed her back into her office, and she entered her body. She sat there, gasping for breath, as she tried to sort through her impressions. Chances were he was being fed something or was lying on the poison somehow. It was coming either through his skin or stomach—those were the two easiest ways to poison somebody. But what if it was something else? Like through the air?

  She hopped to her feet and walked out. Tammy caught her in the hall. “Your next appointment is ready.”

  Maddy smiled. “Thank you. I did a quick energy scan of his system. I’ll talk to him now.” She knocked on the door, picked up the folder from the wall pocket file holder outside on the door and stepped in. Brian sat still, holding his wife’s hand.

  The wife popped to her feet and cried out, “Thank you so much for seeing him.”

  Maddy smiled. “You’re welcome. But I can’t make any promises. I don’t know what’s going on yet, and I don’t know if I can do anything to help him.”

  Kirsten jumped up and ran over to Maddy. She wrapped her arms around her legs and squeezed.

  Maddy dropped her hand to her crown, gently pulsing some loving healing energy into the girl’s traumatized system.

  Almost immediately Kirsten gave a happy sigh, looked up at her and smiled. “You’re the angel lady, aren’t you?”

  Maddy laughed. “I’m not sure what that means,” she said, “but what I need you to do is sit on the chair beside your mom and let me work on your dad, okay?”

  She nodded and raced back to the chair, where she scrambled into it and grabbed her mother’s hand.

  Maddy stepped up beside Brian and said, “Lie down. Let me take a look.”

  Obediently he lay down.

  She ran through the standard tests, checking his blood pressure, listening to his heart, but all the time she was studying the different layers. “How long has this been going on?”

  “About six months,” he said, gasping for breath.

  “Are you allergic to anything?”

  Surprised, he said, “No, not that I know of.”

  “What kind of work do you do?”

  “I’m a carpenter.”

  The questions went on and on as she tried to figure out not so much who was doing this but how somebody was doing this to him.

  Finally she turned back to the wife and daughter and said, “I need to spend a few minutes alone with him. Please return to the waiting room and wait there for me.”

  The wife looked down at Brian. He smiled and said, “Go. We came here to see her. You know she’s my last hope.”

  Nervous but willing, the wife grabbed her daughter’s hand, and the two of them walked out. She glanced back at Maddy and said, “Please help him.”

  Maddy smiled, waiting until the door was closed, and then she focused on Brian. “So, Brian, you’ve got a big problem. And it has absolutely nothing to do with your body dwindling away. Yes, if this keeps up, you’ll die. There might be a chance I can help you, but what we have to do is stop the cause.”

  Confused, he looked at her. “Well, I’d be happy to if I knew what the hell was going on. The other doctors don’t have a clue. But they said I was dying, and I have to admit that I’m half the size I was. My muscles have wasted away. I can’t eat anything. I can’t hold food down. It’s all I can do to drink enough water. I don’t sleep anymore.”

  “Is your hair falling out?”

  He looked at her and frowned. “Yes. How did you know?”

  “I’ll run a few tests on you. They’re not tests that you’ve ever had run before. I want you to close your eyes, and absolutely, under no circumstances, do you open them. Do you hear me?”

  He nodded and obediently closed his eyes.

  “I want you to stay where you are. Try to relax, but, no matter what you feel, don’t open your eyes, okay?”

  “Okay, no problem,” he said in surprise.

  She sat down on her chair
and jumped out of her body. It was easier for her to access what was going on in him if she didn’t have to deal with the physical restraints of her own body. She placed a hand on his abdomen and pushed deep inside. He groaned. “It’s all right,” she whispered. “Rest, relax. I want you to accept that that this temporary pain is good for you. I don’t want you to fight me.”

  She pulled the black from his system, taking it out and tossing it away, scooping it out. Pools of it filled his abdomen, filled his heart, filled his lungs. She didn’t even know where it came from. If on an energy level, she really wanted to know. But she suspected it was a combination. It was something poisonous. It had been diffused in a way she’d never seen before. But poisons were like that. She suspected arsenic, but then it should have showed up in the tests, if they’d done any tests for poisons. She pulled. She cleaned. She waved. She wafted. She wasn’t able to get it all, not at least this first time. But what he had to do now was get healing energy.

  In her mind she called out, Stefan, have you got five minutes?

  His warm and loving voice answered, For you, of course.

  We need to fill his system with good healing energy. He’s been poisoned, but I don’t know by what or how. I’m trying to save him, but the damage is pretty extensive.

  You cleaned out all the old black?

  Mostly. But now we have to fill his system with good energy. You take the crown. I’ll take his feet.

  They separated to each end of Brian’s body. Placing their hands on his feet and his head like a warm blanket, they sent healing energy forward through his body to meet in the middle, to blend and to pass to the other end.

  Brian groaned several times, his legs moving restlessly. He cried out once, as if feeling life coming back to his body, or maybe taking so much of the black out and putting the healing energy back in was just too much of a shock for his system. “I don’t know what’s happening,” he cried out nervously.

  But she didn’t let up. Stefan poured as much energy as he could through Brian’s crown chakra, filling the man’s head, shoulders, chest. Stefan said, I think it’s in the blood.

  I agree, she told to him. But any poison that’s been in his system a long time would have already permeated every cell in his body.