liked would’ve
helped. But there was nothing out of the ordinary. I chalked it up to her
current state of the coma. She wasn’t probably in any shape to like anything at
the moment.
Dang . I sat on the
edge of the bed feeling a little elated that I might have a cure, but a little
defeated in the fact that there was no smell. This wasn’t a guarantee, but
definitely worth a shot.
I
reached over and pulled my purse closer. I didn’t have to dig too far to grab a
Ding Dong. Having a little treat might jog my insight on what I needed to do.
When I bit into the yummy goodness, I realized I didn’t have anything but my
empty coffee cup to put the potion in. Like magic, the treat was gone in a
couple of bites.
It
was time to test my real skill and get the potion for the intended recipient. .
.Faith.
Chapter Eight
The
framed retired professors hanging on the wall seemed to never sleep. They
watched my every step as Mr. Prince Charming and I darted down the stairs and
out into the empty street.
It
was late, and hopefully no one would be around to see me or to tattle on me to
Aunt Helena. She was the last person I wanted to find out that I was making a
cure, let alone one for Faith. Especially when the rules clearly stated that
you couldn’t make potions on your own, or at least on University property.
We
slipped into the hospital and into Faith’s room unseen. Faith remained in the
same position since I last saw her. The tubes connected to her made the
machines beep at a steady pace.
Looking
at her, I’d sworn she was a goner. Dark circles under her eyes made her pale
skin appear as if she had two big black eyes. Her ashen skin was no longer the
gothic pale that made her features stand out even more, making her the exotic
looking creature that she was.
Even
her fingernails had grayed.
Mewl,
mewl .
Mr. Prince Charming jumped up on her bed. He was as uncomfortable as I was.
“Sicko,
I know.” I hated to admit that this was not my finest hour. I ran my fingers
from the bag of the IV to where it entered into her hand and wondered how in
the world I was going to get the potion into the little tube.
If
only. . .my magic wannabe struck again. I wished I could just wave a magic wand
and bring her back. Unfortunately, magic didn’t work that way. At least mine
didn’t.
“Potion
maker, not doctor.” I whispered, reminding myself that this concoction probably
wasn’t going to work.
There
was no way I was going to inject something in her, so I stood over her lifeless
body and parted her lips with one hand. With the other, I tipped the used
coffee cup that was filled with the potion, into the opening of her mouth. The
thick liquid fell in one big drip.
A
zap went through my hand. An electric shock traveled through my body,
propelling me against the wall, and then down to the floor. Mr. Prince Charming
landed next to me.
Hiss,
Hiss. Mr. Prince Charming batted at the door. The light underneath the door gave way
to shadows of someone’s shoes.
“Some
fairy-god cat you are. Come on.” I crawled to Faith’s bed, and then rolled
under. I couldn’t risk someone seeing us. Mr. Prince Charming ran under too.
The
door flung open, the lights flipped on, and two nurses rushed in. One punched
buttons on the machine that was beeping much faster than it had been when I
first got there, and the other did some sort of diagnostic test on Faith.
Please
don’t let me have done her in , I thought with my eyes shut tight and
hands clasped in praying position. All sorts of thoughts began to flood in.
What
if I wasn’t a real psychic? What if I just fed her a deadly concoction? What if
Eloise really did do it? What if my intuition really isn’t that great?
“She
still has a pulse.” One of them said.
“This
is the strangest thing. Her fingernails. Look.” The other’s voice raised an
Legs McNeil, Jennifer Osborne, Peter Pavia