Are You Listening to Me?

by Mary M. Cushnie-mansour

  Camden grinned. “It’s my job to know what our customers like and to service them accordingly.”

  “Well, thank you; you are sweet.” Emily handed Camden the money for her drink and then headed out.

  “She didn’t even say goodbye,” Camden mumbled.

  Emily put the drink in her cup holder and drove home. She was thinking about the wedding plans she and Chris had discussed Wednesday night. When Emily pulled into her parking lot, she gathered her belongings from the car, including the smoothie, and headed up to her apartment. She looked at the large smoothie and decided that if she drank it now, she would not eat her supper, so she put it in the refrigerator for later. Emily had only drunk about a quarter of it: she had been taught well––waste not, want not.

  Later that evening as she was watching television, her stomach started cramping and she felt feverish. She looked over at a calendar to see if it was close to her time of the month. About a week off. “Maybe it’s going to be early this month,” she reasoned as she got up to go into the kitchen and make herself a cup of peppermint tea.

  Friday, June 12, 2009

  E

  mily had had a restless sleep. Her stomach had bothered her all night, and she had gotten up twice with diarrhea. But she had to go to work, they were short-staffed. She only had to work a half a day, anyway. She opened her fridge and noticed the smoothie, but decided that probably all her stomach could handle at the moment was a piece of toast and a peppermint tea. The tea seemed to make her feel better, so she headed out to work. Emily threw her gym bag in the car, in case she felt well enough after her shift to go for a workout. She probably wouldn’t make it to the gym on Saturday since she and Candice would be shopping for her wedding dress. Emily did not want to get out of shape, especially now.

  By the time her shift finished Emily felt pretty good, so she headed for the gym. Camden was at the front desk, and she wondered why he looked surprised to see her. Emily thought he was a bit weird anyway, so didn’t think anything more of it as she swiped her card and walked through to the ladies’ change room. Had she turned around, she would have noticed the dark look on his face.

  Camden swallowed hard and wondered what had gone wrong. Then he rationalized that maybe she hadn’t drunk the beverage. He had noticed she’d only taken a few sips before leaving the gym. Camden patted his pocket, good thing he still had some powder. Despite the fact that she hadn’t bothered to acknowledge him when she came in, he would have her drink ready for her again today.

  Emily felt slightly embarrassed when she noticed the cup sitting on the counter as she walked up to the drink counter. Two days in a row, she said to herself; and then out loud: “I hope you aren’t hitting on me, Camden.” She furrowed her eyebrows.

  Unfortunately, her serious look made Camden think she was angry with him and that she didn’t appreciate his effort to be nice. He had no doubt he was doing the right thing––ridding the world of another self-absorbed, selfish person. “No, Emily, I don’t hit on the customers. I’m just trying to be nice. Just to show you how nice, the drink is on-the-house tonight.”

  Emily felt really embarrassed now. “Oh, you don’t have to do that. I didn’t mean anything bad.” She held out her left hand. “My boyfriend, Chris, asked me to marry him the other night. We set a date for September.”

  “How nice.” Camden turned around. His head was starting to hurt. “Too bad Chris is going to be a widower before he’s a groom.”

  Emily took Camden’s turning around as her cue to exit. She picked up her drink and headed out. She decided to grab a few groceries before going home so she and Candice could devote the entire day on Saturday to dress shopping. She wanted to get Candice’s dress picked out, as well. Emily was hungry. She hadn’t eaten much all day, trying to let her stomach settle, so she finished off the smoothie.

  Friday was Chris’s night out with the boys and Emily usually did something with Candice, but since they would be together all day Saturday, they decided to forego their Friday night movie and get a good rest. Emily picked up a novel she had been reading and curled up in bed. She turned her clock-radio on and found her favourite station. “This is the life,” she said as she snuggled down under the blankets and began to read.

  About eleven o’clock Emily’s stomach started to churn. A wave of nausea swept over her: she raced to the bathroom and threw up in the toilet. Her heart was beating faster than normal and she broke into a sweat. Emily splashed water on her face and looked in the mirror. Wow, was she ever pale! What the heck was going on? “Must be a bug,” she mumbled as she crawled back under the covers. During the next hour, Emily threw up twice more and then diarrhea started. At twelve-thirty she called Chris to see if he could take her to the hospital.

  “What’s wrong, babe?” Chris asked as he came into the apartment. He stopped short when he saw how Emily looked. He grabbed a sweater from her closet and wrapped it around her, and then led her out to his car. She could barely walk.

  Chris raced in to get a nurse and a wheelchair when they arrived at the hospital. Karen, the same nurse that had looked after Tyler, was just finishing her shift so she told the girls on the new shift that she would help the young fellow bring his girlfriend in. “What’s wrong?” Karen inquired of Chris as they assisted Emily into the wheelchair.

  Chris explained Emily’s symptoms, and as if to confirm he was getting it right, Emily threw up. Karen rushed to the nurses’ station and asked for immediate help. Once they had Emily cleaned up and lying in a hospital bed, Karen looked at her watch. She had to get home. Her sitter would be livid. This would be the third time this week that she was late.

  Emily was hooked to an intravenous to replenish her fluids. The Emergency doctor ordered a sedative to be added so Emily could get some rest. She settled down and soon drifted off to sleep. By three o’clock the intravenous was finished, and she seemed to be improving. It was Friday night––well, early Saturday morning––and the Emergency department was overloaded with Friday night revellers, so the doctor signed Emily out. He told Chris to make sure Emily went straight to bed and if the symptoms returned, just to bring her back. The doctor stated that he thought it was probably just a touch of a bad flu, or maybe something Emily had eaten or drank.

  Chris thanked the doctor and took Emily home. “I’m going to stay with you tonight,” he informed her as he tucked her into bed. Emily didn’t argue.

  At four o’clock Emily bolted up in her bed as the pain riveted through her body again. “Oh, my God!” she screamed as she headed to the bathroom. Not knowing which to do first––sit on the toilet, or throw up in the sink, she opted for the toilet. The floor in front of her was covered with vomit when Chris reached her.

  Chris helped Emily get changed and then insisted he take her back to the hospital. She didn’t argue. “You need to call Candice for me,” she mentioned. “I don’t think I’ll be able to go dress shopping today.”

  By the time they reached the hospital, Emily could barely move. Chris didn’t wait to get a wheelchair; he scooped his fiancée up in his arms and rushed through the Emergency doors. “I need a doctor!” he shouted.

  One of the nurses recognized Chris and Emily from earlier. She hurried over and led them to an empty bed. “Put her here. What happened? I thought she was improving.”

  “Obviously not,” Chris said, a hint of sarcasm creeping into his words. “She started throwing up again, and when I flushed the toilet, I noticed blood. She looks like she’s dying! Where’s the doctor?”

  The nurse told Chris the doctor was on his way. She brought her equipment over and took Emily’s blood pressure. It was seventy over forty. She took it again: sixty-eight over thirty-nine. She raced out and was back in a few minutes with the doctor. He was different than the earlier one.

  “Hello, son, I’m Doctor Campbell. Could you excuse us for a minute; I would like to examine your girlfriend.”

  Chris stepped outside the curtains. His heart was poundin
g. He began to pace. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Emily was always so healthy. Being a nurse, she knew how to take care of herself. He could hear her throwing up behind the curtain. The nurse came running out and grabbed some towels. She barked an order to an orderly to bring a bucket and mop, said something to one of the other nurses, and then returned to Emily.

  A nurse came up to Chris and took him by the arm. “Why don’t you sit in the waiting room? I’ll come and get you as soon as Doctor Campbell is finished. Your girlfriend is in good hands with him.”

  “I need to stay here,” Chris insisted.

  “You need to be out of the way for now so we can do our job,” the nurse returned as she led him out to the waiting room.

  Chris couldn’t sit; he continued his pacing. He noticed a couple of nurses racing into Emergency with a cart. “Code Red” sounded out over the PA system. He began to panic. A couple of minutes passed, and finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He pushed through the doors and raced to where Emily was. The doctor and the nurses were standing around her bed. The doctor held two paddles in his hands; he nodded to one of the nurses, then placed the paddles on Emily’s chest. Her body convulsed upwards.

  “Again!” Doctor Campbell shouted.

  Emily convulsed upwards again. And then she lay still. Chris crumbled to the floor and began to weep.

  Monday, June 15, 2009

  J

  ack turned on the early morning local news. Toby perked up when he heard there had been another mysterious death, which appeared to be caused by flu-like symptoms. The newscaster reported it was the third such death within the past couple of weeks.

  The doorbell rang. Oh no, hope it isn’t Camden! Toby jumped off the couch and landed in one of the easy-chairs. He watched Jack as he opened the door. “Hey buddy, haven’t seen you for a while. What have you been up to? Coming in for coffee?”

  “Sure, Jack. I was just on my way over to the gym and realized you lived here and might be up for a quick visit. I don’t have to be to work until one today.” A young man in his late twenties stepped through the door.

  Toby sighed. Someone he liked. Andrew Fairfax. Andrew was a paramedic, and he and Jack had become good friends after the previous case Toby had solved. Andrew had been the first on the scene when the little girls had been brought out of the abandoned building.

  “Did you hear the news this morning?” Andrew asked.

  “You mean about the third person who just died from the flu?”

  “Yeah. I was at the hospital last night when the boyfriend brought the girl in.” Andrew paused and shook his head. “You know, Jack, I’m no doctor, but it sure didn’t look to me like that girl had the flu. She was extremely ill. I talked to one of the nurses––Karen––she said she helped the boyfriend bring the deceased in the first time they came to the hospital. She said the girl had all the same symptoms of the young fellow who passed away the week before. She was shocked when she came back on shift Saturday and found out the girl had died.” Andrew went through to the kitchen, poured himself a coffee, and called to Jack to see if he wanted another one.

  “No thanks, I’m okay … still have some.” Jack waited for Andrew to return to the living room. “So you think this is more than just a bad flu?”

  “Like I said, I’m no doctor, but I was there dropping off another patient just before they went for the crash cart. That girl was convulsing terribly. And she was still throwing up. It wasn’t like any flu I’ve ever had or seen!”

  Jack stroked his hands over his whiskers. “What about the third person? Were they ever at the hospital––that you know of?”

  “Not that I heard. I think that one died at home. But it might not be a bad idea to talk to some of her family members to see exactly what kind of symptoms she had before she passed.”

  Jack agreed. “Maybe I’ll go and pay a visit to my buddy at the station and see if they can send someone over to investigate. I don’t want to get too involved here, being retired and all.”

  Andrew broke the tension with a chuckle. “You shouldn’t be retired, Jack; look at that waist of yours. I’ll bet the captain would take you back in a second…”

  “Too old, Andrew. Too many years in the force. I’ll just talk to Bryce and let him take it from there. I’ll keep you posted.”

  The two men exchanged a few stories before Andrew stood and said he had to go. “Thanks for the coffee, Jack. If I don’t get to the gym, I’ll miss my workout.”

  “Drop in any time,” Jack suggested as he walked Andrew to the door.

  “Will do.”

  As Andrew left Jack’s house, Camden was coming down the sidewalk, headed for work. Toby returned to the back of his couch by the window. He noticed Camden stop and look at Andrew, and saw a disconcerting shadow pass across Camden’s face. Hmm, wonder what he’s upset about now? Little did Toby know, Andrew was on Camden’s list.

  Camden followed Andrew into the gym. Not a word passed between them. Camden had pegged Andrew to be next but thought that maybe it would be wiser to leave him till last since he appeared to be Jack’s friend. The next victim should be the final girl anyway; he didn’t want to make it look as though he had a pattern of any sort.

  It was another bad day at work. Camden was happy he had made the decision to target the last woman he had picked before finalizing with the men. The third girl who had rubbed him the wrong way was Lauren Dagnell. Right from the get-go she had been rude to him. When she had come for a tour, Camden was all set to show her around. She had whispered something to Isabella, and then Paige was taking Lauren around the gym. As they walked away, Lauren had leant over and said something to Paige. They had both glanced back at Camden and laughed.

  Today was even worse. Camden saw Lauren talking to Isabella and pointing over to him. Isabella was frowning and shaking her head. What had he ever done to Lauren? Why was she trying to get him in trouble? Graham was standing close to them when the interaction had taken place, so Camden asked him later if he had heard what had been said. All Graham could remember hearing was Lauren telling Isabella that Camden gave her the creeps and, if possible, could he not come around the equipment she was working out on. “Isabella said she would talk to you,” Graham finished his story.

  Camden’s head started to pound. Why? Why couldn’t these people just leave him alone? They had to be destroyed! They were so inconsiderate. They had no idea what he had gone through in his life! They didn’t care! Camden thanked Graham for the information and excused himself to the washroom. Isabella was waiting for him when he exited.

  “Take a walk with me, Camden,” she ordered. When they were out of earshot of everyone, she continued. “One of the members has asked that you not go around her machines when she is working on them.” Isabella pointed to Lauren.

  Camden drew in a deep breath. “What reason did she give? I only do my job when I’m out there, Isabella. Honestly. I don’t bother anyone.”

  “She said you make her feel uncomfortable. I just talked to you the other day about loitering around the machines; I hope you are not still doing that.”

  “I don’t loiter, Isabella; I do my job!” Camden’s voice rose in anger. “That’s what I do out there––my job!”

  “It’s okay, Camden.” Isabella made a motion with her hand for Camden to lower his voice. She bent in closer to him. “I understand that some members can be over-particular. I am just making you aware of this, and, once again, I am asking you to be more cautious. Maybe I should have Graham empty the garbage cans for a few days and leave you at the drink counter, just until things settle down. How does that sound?”

  Camden didn’t have a problem with Isabella’s suggestion. “Actually, Isabella, that sounds fantastic. I enjoy mixing the drinks for people. Shall I tell Graham to get started on the garbage? I was just about to do it.”

  Isabella put her hand on Camden’s shoulder. “I’ll do it; I see someone at the drink counter.” Camden noted who it was––Ja
ck’s friend, Andrew. As Camden walked over, he was bubbling inside. Things had a way of working out in the long run. It would be easier to do what he had to do, now he was going to be behind the drink counter all the time.

  ~

  Toby pondered all day about the look on Camden’s face that morning. He came to the conclusion the guy needed serious watching. Toby was sure Camden was up to something and that something was absolutely no good. He kept vigil at the window, waiting for Camden to leave work. Shortly after five o’clock Toby saw him coming down the sidewalk. He hoped Camden didn’t decide to pop in and say hello to Jack, although Jack wasn’t home, anyway. Camden walked on by. Toby headed for his cat door.

  Once outside, Toby followed at a discrete distance. The last thing he needed was for Camden to see him and give him a boot. Toby skulked down in the long grass by the fence surrounding Camden and Emma’s backyard. Emma was in the three-season room. Toby watched Camden go in the front door, and a few minutes later he came out to where Emma was. Duke stood up and greeted him with a tail wag.

  Toby watched and waited. Emma and Camden appeared to be having an ordinary conversation, but, Toby thought he detected a note of concern on Emma’s face when she shook her head after Camden had talked for a few minutes. Finally, she shrugged her shoulders and headed into the house. Duke followed her. Toby was about to head home when he noticed Camden’s attention on a particular group of plants in the corner of the room. Camden was also warily watching the door Emma had just gone through. He started to pick something off of the plant. Just then, Emma poked her head out the door. Camden quickly shoved whatever he had picked into his pocket. Toby saw Emma’s lips move, but he couldn’t hear what she was saying. Camden said something in return; she nodded and disappeared into the house. Camden followed.

  Toby hung around, watching, and just as he was about to leave he noticed a light flick on, on the upper floor. He looked around for something to climb. Near the lit window was a large tree branch, attached to an even larger tree. “Well, it’s been a while since I climbed a tree, but if I’m going to find out what Camden’s up to, I’m going to have to do this!” Toby began to make his way up the trunk. By the time he got to the spot where the branch veered off to the window, he was out of breath. “I really am too old for this!”