Silence Her

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Silence Her Page 9

by Douglas Fetterly


  This last thought nudged her back into the therapy session. What was to be gained by keeping her drug and abortion history in the past? She knew that it was a trust issue. Why should she automatically trust the therapist, especially one who was tied to her employer? And there was Jerry, with his staunch Christian right views on abortion.

  An image of a child in a coffin bombarded Lishan’s thoughts again, not for the first time today. She tried the hospital again. The same roadblock prevented her from getting a status. What did I expect? she said under her breath. Why don’t I just go down there? It was a nagging question. She felt ashamed, but hiding from the reality wouldn’t help. This she knew.

  She arrived at the hospital. After making the inquiry, she was directed to the waiting room where Kathy sat, clearly exhausted.

  “Kathy, hi.”

  Kathy didn’t stand. She just looked up and nodded.

  “You know I feel terrible. It’s not the guilt that brought me here.” Why did I say that? she thought to herself. “I’m here to help however I can. Anything.”

  “She’s still in ICU. The doctor said her vital signs have improved, but she still hasn’t woken up. The lab report came back. They’re still working on just what caused this. They agree there is a poison, but because it was ingested, it’s taking awhile to pin it down without any other information. They’re also concerned about one of her kidneys. She’s only eight, Lishan. Only eight.” Kathy choked back the tears.

  Lishan took Kathy’s hand. “Can I stay with you awhile? However long you like.”

  “You know, that’s kind of you. Maybe just a little bit. It might do me good to talk. My mother and sister were here earlier, but I was in such shock I couldn’t talk much at all. I’ve had time today to relive our lives together. It reminds me of how important every day is. Not to let a single moment pass where we do less than our best, especially with how we treat one another.” Kathy closed a journal she had been writing in. “Lishan, can you tell me, why would someone try to poison you?”

  “Yes. Of course. You deserve to know.” Lishan filled her lungs, exhaling her own fears as much as she could in order to make room for her friend’s. “You know Jack Conner, the food and drug magnate.”

  “Don’t we all. That sleazebag. My sister’s husband was one of several hundred who got sick on one of Conner Foods products that was released to the public before it was fully researched. That was several years ago. We tried taking the company to court, but he seems to have the justice system sewn up in his favor.”

  “I didn’t know,” Lishan replied, waiting a moment. “You know my exposé that was in Monday’s edition.”

  “Are you kidding? The entire newsroom knows. Everyone who’s not management, possibly excluding Elizabeth Walker, was glad to see it hit the streets. Do you think he’s the culprit?”

  “Yes. I can’t be certain, but there have been too many factors pointing in his direction ever since the article. He….”

  Kathy’s attention immediately shifted to the approaching doctor, who sat down next to Kathy.

  “It’s looking promising, but we’re not on solid ground yet. The CDC and local poison control lab finally narrowed it to ricin, derived from the castor bean. This would likely only come from someone with an in-depth knowledge of drugs.”

  Lishan and Kathy glanced at one another. Conner or someone in his employ.

  “From what I understand of the situation, the amount of the ricin toxin may not have been intended to kill an adult—just make you very sick. But to a child’s body…you can understand. Jennifer has a strong constitution. Her vitals continue to improve. There was an earlier concern about kidney failure. We are still investigating. Rest assured she is our top priority.” The doctor stood, gave a consoling smile, then left.

  Kathy turned to Lishan. “I think I just need to be alone for now. I want you to know I appreciate your coming down. I know this weighs on you, too. Thank you, Lishan.” As Lishan stood to leave, Kathy touched Lishan’s arm. “Lishan, be careful. Conner will obviously not stop until you are no longer a threat.”

  Lishan nodded, pursing her lips. Yes, until I’m no longer a threat.

  Fifteen minutes later, Lishan headed up the stairs at The Mirror, closing up her day before heading home.

  15

  Walking home—which she often preferred to driving—Lishan was deep in thought about her life, hospitals, and Jennifer. She chose only well-lit streets, since the darkness was a little too frightening tonight.

  “Lishan?”

  She swung around, startled, since she hadn’t been aware of anyone close by. For a few seconds, Lishan peered at the helmeted rider straddling a dark blue twenty-six-inch Peugeot bicycle, one foot on the ground where he’d stopped. All she could discern was a mass of shimmering black hair flowing from under the Bell helmet. Sensing her confusion, the rider removed the helmet, shaking out his shoulder-length hair.

  “Rafael? The intern from the Review?”

  “It’s been a few years.” He paused, taking her in. “It’s nice to see you. You’re looking...good.” Rafael smiled.

  Lishan hesitated, fumbling for words. They never reconnected after that day in the newsroom.

  “Do I get a hug?” Rafael wasn’t waiting for an answer. He leaned his bike against a parking meter and approached her.

  Lishan finally broke out of her trance. “Uh, yes. Yes, of course.”

  Rafael closed the gap, giving her a quick kiss on the lips and a hug that squelched any imagination.

  “That was nice.” Sensing she seemed reserved, aloof, he stepped back a foot. “How’ve you been?”

  Lishan took in the form in front of her. Rafael had buffed out beautifully, assuming the stature of a vibrant young man exuding confidence and poise. He was only nineteen when they first met. Now, in his early twenties, he was a knockout.

  “I’m, let’s see. I’m doing okay. It’s…it’s been a full and challenging day,” Lishan stammered, feeling suddenly shy.

  Rafael picked up on her shyness. He gave her a friendly, slightly provocative, once-over. “Say, why don’t we grab a bite? I’d love to know what’s been going on with you.”

  “I’ve got to get home. I’m exhausted, and I’ve got a lot to process from the day. I should pass.”

  “Oh,” he said, playing the disappointment card. “That’s okay. Perhaps another night? Here’s my phone number.” He took a business card from his wallet.

  As he turned to leave, Lishan hesitated, feeling the depths of the fears. She suddenly knew she didn’t want to be alone. She blurted out, “You know, I do have to eat. Why don’t you join me? I need to stop by my flat. I could take you out, or throw something together.”

  “I’d love to. I’m also pretty tired. Perhaps we could just stay in? Why don’t I pick up a few greens? I could make a salad.”

  “I already have fresh spinach and butter lettuce. I could whip up one of my father’s Ethiopian dishes. I think I’ve got it covered. Just come on by. Do you want to walk with me?”

  “Tell you what. I’ve got one brief errand to run. I could be there in half an hour. Does that work for you?” Rafael attempted to attenuate his enthusiasm, but it was barely contained.

  “Perfect. Here’s my business card from the newspaper.” Lishan scribbled a rough map on the back.

  He looked at the card, and the map. “You’re still at The Mirror. I know. I read your articles.”

  Lishan was pleased but conflicted, given all that has been tied to Monday’s exposé. “Okay. See you in thirty.” Lishan started to walk off, then turned around. “Rafael.”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s been a rough day. I can’t guarantee I’ll be very good company.”

  He walked back toward her, touching her shoulders. “Not to worry. It’ll be nice to just catch up. We’ll play the evening however it’s best for you, okay?”

  Lishan nodded and continued her walk.

  After putting on his helmet, he remembered the day she embarra
ssed him in front of his peers. In his culture, being publicly embarrassed by a woman ranked high on the offense list. He could not forget that day.

  As Lishan strode off, she saw a taxi. Not a Yellow. Home in six minutes, with time to ensure that her apartment was not a mess. Enough time for a cursory check and a shower. She was reminded of the day’s events when she found the Frazier book in her messenger bag.

  Five minutes into the process, she heard a knock at the door. Could he be here already? Opening the door, she found Erik standing there.

  “Erik, hi.” Panic struck. She cared for Erik and certainly wanted to avoid hurting his feelings. She just stood there.

  “Can I come in…or is this a bad time?” The next few seconds of silence stopped Erik’s hint of forward motion.

  “It’s…it’s a little of both. I have less than twenty minutes to get ready, but I always love seeing you. Oh, how thoughtless of me. Come in. Give me a hug.”

  Erik took in Lishan’s awkwardness, the lack of assuredness she normally had. He stepped forward to hug her but didn’t move beyond the arc of the door. He knew he wasn’t coming in.

  “You’ve got some hunk coming over, don’t you?” He could see her shallow breathing. “It’s truly okay. Look, I’ve got to run. I just stopped by on my way down the hall.”

  “Erik…he’s just someone I used to work with some years ago.” She drew another deep breath. “Okay, we dated once. I just ran into him half an hour ago. He’s coming by so we can catch up on the last couple of years.”

  “Lishan, it’s okay. You deserve these experiences. And look at you, you exotic female.” He smiled, his attempt at levity barely relaxing the thickness in the air. “I doubt he’s coming by just to ‘catch up.’ Don’t worry. I’ll see you later. Give me all the details, or at least a few of them.” He was gone, waving over his shoulder.

  “Erik, today….”

  “Tell me in the morning, okay?” Rhetorical question at best.

  Lishan felt uneasy at the interaction, but she had to let it go—at least for now.

  16

  “Damn.” Lishan thought back a few minutes to the interaction with Erik. She liked him a great deal. Love? She didn’t want to hurt Erik’s feelings. Ten minutes left.

  She squeezed in a three-minute shower, changing into her loose-fitting, drawstring, oat-colored Prana pants, and a gauzy, white, long-sleeve shirt. Barefoot. One last quick glance around the flat.

  At the thirty-minute mark, she heard a soft knock. She knew it had to be Rafael, but a wave of nervousness jarred her equilibrium, given the close call with Erik.

  “Hi! Come in. Any trouble finding the place?”

  “None at all.” Rafael opened his arms, inviting a hug.

  Lishan felt nervous. Is this okay? Am I wrong?

  “I like your pad,” he said, his eyes settling back on Lishan after taking in the surroundings. “Prana pants. Gramicci shirt. Nice.”

  “I’m a yuppie masquerading as a hippie, or is it vice versa?”

  “I’ve always enjoyed fashion.” Rafael grinned. “Hey, can I have the tour?”

  Lishan led him to the sliding glass door that opened to the balcony.

  “Nice view of the river. How long have you lived here?”

  “Oh, let’s see. Two years. No, three.”

  They stood side by side, taking in the river’s beauty.

  “What else have you got?” He led the way, addressing the kitchen and his final stop—the bedroom.

  Rafael threw his black wool coat on the bed, further exposing his trim body in provocative jeans and a Zara pullover open at the neck. Lishan noticed his deliberateness.

  “What can I get you? Water, cabernet, Red Hook?”

  “Please. Cab.” While Lishan poured the wine, Rafael reached into his satchel and retrieved a reporter’s notepad. A soft cotton pajama bottom fell out.

  In her periphery, Lishan took it all in. She couldn’t process it, deciding to cross that bridge later.

  “I see you’re going after Senator Libby and Conner, not to mention the FDA.” Rafael raised his eyebrows. “Perilous territory. I’m surprised your editor hasn’t admonished you for it.” He watched her face for signs. “Oh—he already has, hasn’t he?”

  “You have been reading my articles.”

  “Yes, including your exposé this past Monday. I enjoy your work.”

  Lishan felt a knot in her belly. Rafael had an odd look on his face, contemplative, as though he was taking mental notes of things, of her apartment. She liked Rafael—was enticed by him—but was he keeping tabs on her? Was it just a chance meeting on the street today? Being stalked crossed her mind. And now she realized she didn’t know him well enough to divulge anything private.

  “Really? I’m honored. It’s been a couple of years, so I didn’t know how you felt about me. Who are you working for?”

  Rafael paused. “Oh, I’m just doing a little writing.”

  “On someone’s payroll?”

  “Uh, yes. I’m still working for The Capitol Review as a reporter on the news desk.”

  Lishan flinched. She was curious about his secrecy—he was working for a competitor.

  “What projects are you involved in?”

  Again, Rafael fidgeted. “Oh, just the usual.”

  This elusive barrier to the truth bothered Lishan. She turned away from him, as though she had something else to do.

  Rafael shifted in his seat, realizing he would be out the door fairly quickly if he didn’t give her something to go on. But he had to do it without mentioning that he occasionally wrote positive stories about Conner. No, he couldn’t mention Conner. He had to appeal to Lishan’s sensibility, to her writing. “It’s just a conflict of interest project,” he lied. “Some muckety-muck plying both sides of the fence. Nothing of interest. Tell me more about your exposés.”

  Lishan felt uneasy, deciding to let the evasive action go, but knowing she would reveal next to nothing. She wove a limited story, promoting truths she believed in, but she also didn’t mention Conner or anything that had happened to her.

  “From my mid-teens, I read the labels on the foods we bought. My mother and father were big on truth in advertising, and on eating healthily. I began to learn about dangerous oils used in cooking, about the dangers behind artificial sweeteners. There is so much disease in this country. We have high rates of cancer, neurologic disorders, and others that I believe are directly related to….”

  “What oils do you use?” he blurted out. “If you’re the master, I should take notes.”

  Lishan felt a slight irritation. His interruption signaled an apparent lack of interest in her story, but she set it aside in the interest of adding some lightness to her life.

  “Just olive oil—organic, expeller pressed—and water. Many mainstream cooking oil companies use solvents similar to gasoline to extract the oils. What do you mean, ‘master’?” She attempted levity by throwing a sugar pea at him.

  Rafael ducked, smiling. He studied Lishan’s features closely, taking in the situation. He had a score to settle, but he would not pass up the sex, at least not this time.

  Dinner became just snacking on veggies and chips, Pugliese bread and Gouda. Rafael finished his glass of wine within what seemed like two minutes, pouring its replacement, and topping hers off in the process. Another telltale warning—Lishan could feel that he was nudging her into submission. But she wouldn’t have it. She slowed significantly, never finishing the second glass.

  As the hour grew late, Rafael was clearly attempting to maneuver into an overnight with her. It all got to be too much for Lishan to deal with, but she didn’t have the energy to outright oust him.

  “Rafael, I’ve got to get some sleep. I’ve got an extra blanket and pillow for you if you want to sleep on the couch.”

  “I could keep you warm,” he said in an alluring tone.

  “I know. It crossed my mind.” Damn, stupid, stupid, stupid. She tried to unravel her error. “I suppose sex crosses everyon
e’s mind in these situations, whether they act on it or not. I’m just not in that place, Rafael. I hope you’ll understand.”

  “Oh, of course.” He kept his disappointment to a minimum, thinking she might capitulate during the night.

  With the bedding on the couch, Lishan gave him a meager hug, then bid goodnight. As she closed the door to her bedroom, she saw the lock on the knob. She had never used it before, but she felt inclined. She locked it.

  Sleep came at a price; the day had been filled with just too many events. Life-threatening events, and not just for her. An hour went by before her breathing began to slow, the beta waves giving way to alpha. She thought she heard the doorknob twist, which brought her fully awake. It had stopped, so she couldn’t be sure. Still, she didn’t want to chance it. Lishan lay awake for another hour before pushing a heavy box of giveaway books against the door and tying a string from the knob to a tambourine setting against the wall. She withdrew her camping knife from its sheath in the nightstand, placing it next to the lamp. Finally, sleep came.

  17

  Lishan awoke to filtered sunlight. The events hours earlier hit her full-on. After she dressed, she tip-toed from the bedroom. Rafael was awake, yawning, his clothes on the floor.

  “Hey, bright eyes,” he said.

  “Hey. Did you sleep well?”

  “Of course,” he beamed. “I hope I didn’t wake you in the middle of the night. I wanted to use the bathroom but your door was locked. I decided I could wait.” He hoped his lie held. Truth was, he wanted to slip into bed with her.

  Lishan felt confusion. Trust was not easy to come by with him, her intuition told her.

  She managed a smile. “I hope you don’t mind. I’ve got a full day ahead of me.” She didn’t want to lead him on.

  “You know where the shower is. Take your time. Have fun today. It was nice to see you.” Wanting to keep some distance, she blew him what would barely pass as a kiss as she gathered her messenger bag.

  “Aren’t you going to shower? I don’t want those other men getting a whiff of those pheromones of yours.”

 

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