I wiped my nose on my sleeve, absently staring at the snot slug with indifference. Shivering, I shifted uncomfortably.
“Can I get you anything, hon?” a nurse asked as she took my vitals. The rhythmic beeping of the monitors lulled me into a daze. I shrugged and heaved a sigh.
“I’m cold,” was all I could manage.
“Let me get you some heated blankets,” I looked at her wearily and nodded slowly. She smiled at me with an abundance of kindness. She appeared to be in her 50s and carried her weight in her hips.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, holding it for as long as I could. I heard the beeps change rhythm, indicating my oxygen levels had altered. I released the breath and suddenly felt warmth on my lap; my eyes snapped open.
“It’s alright, it’s just me with the blankets,” the nurse said, softly. She took the blood pressure cuff off my arm and turned off the monitors. “Let’s get you warmed up and get some fluids in you, huh?”
As the needle pierced my skin, I jumped involuntarily. I could feel that she’d missed the vein, but it was my fault for moving. She finally hit the target, and I glanced down on instinct. The sight of blood back flushing into the IV tube made me dizzy, and I began shaking all over.
“Are you Phoebe White?” a stern voice asked. The nurse looked up, puzzled. I nodded. “I’ll need to ask you a couple of quest–”
“My patient needs fluids and to get settled. Your questions can wait.” My nurse looked at the man by the door as if he’d blown the place up. He stared at her, clearly astonished to have been spoken to in such a manner.
“Ma’am, with all due–”
“I didn’t stutter. Out. Now.”
“But–”
“You’ve plenty of witnesses to speak with at the moment. Let’s not traumatize this poor young lady anymore…Out.”
“Yes ma’am,” he said, backing out of the room and closing the door.
“That’d be my nephew. He’s new to the detective force and can be a bit pushy. Sure he’s doing his job, but you need to relax right now. We’ll get you some fluids and something for the anxiety, and you can rest. There are plenty of others he can chat with,”
I watched as she hooked up the IV bags, typed a few things into the computer, and then she tucked the blanket around me a bit more.
“Wh–what’s your name?” I mumbled as the medication started seducing me into slumber.
“Cathy, love. My name is Cathy. I’ll bring you some more blankets, but you try to get some sleep for now. You’re safe.”
Cathy patted my arm and headed out of the room. I felt like I was floating, so I just let myself drift.
Celebrating Boxing Day instead of Christmas with two of my favorite regulars who have become family to me felt like a great idea at the time. We’d all been suffering sadness due to the losses we faced as the years went on. This past year was especially brutal for all of us, so we elected to Brit Out and go for drinks the day after.
I’d been lost in my own world at the time–suffering the loss of a failed marriage, a broken and homophobic family, and falling deeper and deeper in debt. Despite having 3 jobs, ends still weren’t even coming close to meeting. I finally got a small room in a rooming house, which gave me something that I could call my own. I was really getting back on track with my physical and mental health and really digging deep to find “me”. So why not take a day off and spend it drinking with my “Elders”. Gain some wisdom, play some Keno, “eat the pu-pu for two down the road”, as “Auntie” Bia implies. Her old school language and rhetoric kill me sometimes, but that’s not the point.
I settled up at a seat on the backside of the bar at the restaurant. I was relatively surprised as to how chilly it was. Sitting so far from the door, I didn’t expect to need to keep my jacket on, but there are worse things.
Boxing Day with my Duo. Coor’s Lights were set in front of us and the Keno Cards out. Can we just talk about Keno for a second? It’s a full-time freekin’ job! So many cards, sheets of paper for notes, having the app on their phones…
Before long, I’d moved on to the Champagne of beers, Miller High Life. Liquid gold in a bottle, in my opinion. As I took a long pull, I happened to glance at the Keno TV and something struck me as odd; there was something on the screen.
Is that…blood? I nearly pondered aloud. Stop it, I responded to myself. The amount of horror that I read and watch will always lend its macabre to my day to day life. I shook my head and went to the bathroom. I hit my weed pen, held, and exhaled slowly as I broke the seal.
Upon returning to my seat, Bia looked at me with a dead straight face with a piercing stare.
“Phoebe. Come here and give me a hug.” I was puzzled by her sternness, glanced over at Renzo and he winked; I hugged her as commanded. “Would you look at that Keno screen?” I pulled back from the hug for a moment and once more did as I was told. It still looked mildly streaky with something that– “HAPPY BOXING DAY!” she yelled in my ear.
“Wait! You–the five–” I stuttered.
“All 5 on the bonus!” she exclaimed. I hugged her tighter. It was so nice to see her laughing. “It’s time for a smoke,” Bia said, climbing out of her seat. For 70, she was tall, fit, and in great health. She patted my hand and started towards the emergency exit door. It boasted a screaming:
Emergency Exit Only. Alarm Will Sound.
“Bia….I wouldn’t do th–” I squeezed my eyes shut as she pushed the crash bar.
The alarm blared.
“It wasn’t like this before!” she exclaimed. “I always go out this door!”
Three staff members appeared at the door within seconds to disarm the alarm and lock the doors. It was like they appeared out of nowhere. I chuckled and then went outside with her. I took a few hits off of my pen again, and I also hit my nicotine pen. My head swam from the rush as my body absorbed the drug. I passed her the same pen, to which she happily took and ripped.
When we went back in, I was still floating from the cannabis and nicotine. I grinned over at Renzo, who was devouring his spare ribs with delight. Bia went back to checking her tickets from the games we missed and continued her notes.
I happened to glance at the screen again and was still seeing something. This is all in your head, Phoebes, I tried to tell myself.
“L-A-L-L, Phoebe.” Bia said, leaning into me.
“I’m sorry?” I asked, distractedly.
“Live And Let Live.” Before long, she was rambling on about her lineage, Renzo’s, and all about the zodiac. I nodded and was selfishly passive in the conversation due to distraction.
I stood up again, pretending to stretch. I leaned on the bar and looked up at the tiles closest to the TV. The four tiles looked slightly newer than the dingy and worn ones that covered the rest of the ceiling.
I looked closer at the suspended ceiling tracks, and those certainly had a story to tell. They were stained a dark copper color as opposed to the gold ones throughout the rest of the bar and restaurant. Something was certainly off, and something was definitely wrong.
I walked over to Renzo’s seat and leaned closer to him, mentioning my concerns. He looked at me with mild confuzzlement, then at the screen.
“Wait for it to change screens,” I said under my breath. As the screen changed from advertisement to the currently drawn numbers to other advertisements, he adjusted his glasses.
Without warning, Renzo stood up and walked over to the service station, which was adjacent to the tiles and television. He stepped behind the bar and kicked the trash out of the way to get a closer look. He called out for the bartender to get him a stool. At first, she tried to deny him, but arguing with a military vet who is on a mission proved to be useless.
She got him a stool, and he climbed up, first examining, then pushing one of the tiles. It didn’t budge. He tried pushing a bit more aggressively, and after no result, gave a hard shove as hard as he could. The stool gave out from beneath him and Renzo went crashing to the floor as a large transparent plastic bag and congealed blood collapsed onto him.
Bia screamed. The bartender at first reached for Renzo, who was crying for help, then fainted. I gripped Bia’s seat and began to tremble. The sip of beer that was in my mouth went sour as I threw up onto the plate of ribs.
Amidst the screams, everything went silent, and then black.
When I started coming out of the drug induced state some hours after Nurse Cathy had tended to me, I overheard the television that was on in my room. It didn’t make sense at first, but then it started to come together.
The breaking news that evening was the event that I’d experienced. A body had been found, hacked to pieces, bagged, and stuffed in the ceiling. There were no details yet, and a massive investigation was set to unfold.
What they found was the butchered body of a tender aged child.