“Of course I’m still irritated,” Janet corrected, turning to look at him and putting her knuckles on her hips with arms akimbo. “What do you expect after you come barging into the house at foura.m., crashing around, making a racket, and waking me up out of a sound sleep. I mean it’s one thing if you boys insist on running around in the woods for half the night playing games, but it’s quite another if you don’t have the sense and decency to come into the house without disturbing me. I am, after all, the one paying the rent.”
“We were on a major militia maneuver, not playing games,” Ethan snapped, struggling to corral his growing anger at her obvious disrespect. “And I was furious for good reason. Only half of our supposed instructors showed up. And let me tell you, we made a lot of effort and went through a shitload of ammunition. The whole deal was one hell of a major undertaking.”
“From my perspective, it was just a bunch of men acting like adolescents, making fools of themselves,” Janet said with a dismissive wave. “But be that as it may, you should be glad no one got hurt.And why does it matter if only half of the instructors showed up if the operation went as planned?”
“Because the two instructors that didn’t show up are the commander and his lieutenant, and we are paying good money for them to be here. I’ve insisted they show up countless times, but Viktor and his sidekick Nikolai are more interested in a brewery that they set up in the Bennet barn than helping the Diehard Patriots, which is the whole reason they’re here.”
“A brewery?” Janet questioned with obvious ridicule. “Why in God’s name have they bothered to set up a brewery?”
“I’ve got no clue. And I don’t even know it’s a brewery to be entirely honest. That’s just what JD said he was told by one of them he plays basketball with occasionally. But you know what? At this point it doesn’t matter. I’ve had it! Last night was the absolute final time they are going to stand us up! When the operation was over, I took one of them aside and told him in no uncertain terms that their visit to Essex Falls was over and done and that they had to get their asses out of the Bennet Estate today at the latest ’cause the rent is due. And I made it crystal clear that I would get the police involved if they didn’t vacate immediately. And to be sure I got their attention I said that I’d let the cops know there was something fishy about their IDs. And let me tell you, I’m truly serious! I’m finished making threats and being ignored.”
“Whatever,” Janet said with a roll of her eyes. “I’m out of here. But closer to home, let me warn you, mister, that you’d better mend your ways in general or you will be packing yourself. You’re skating on thin ice here!” She then spun on her heels and marched out of the room.
For a second Ethan was stunned at Janet’s dismissal. There was no way he could allow her to get away with how she was currently treating him, because if he did, it would only get worse. In a fit ofrage, he looked around the room searching for something to smash, something of Janet’s. Unfortunately, there was nothing immediately available, and instead, glancing at the bedside clock, he became aware of the time, knowing that if he didn’t pull himself together, he’d be late for work yet again. Since he was hardly on the best of terms with his immediate supervisor, he needed to make tracks. Quickly searching under the camouflage military gear that he’d taken off early that morning and tossed onto the only chair in the room, he found the clean T-shirt and jeans he’d put out the previous afternoon to wear that day. Since he was well aware of the toxicity of some of the products he used at work, Ethan was a stickler about showering and washing his clothes when he got home each and every day.
After hastily donning his clothes, he dashed into the bathroom to smooth out his hair with a wet palm and splash some water on his face. It wasn’t much, but it was all he had time for. Heading out the side door, he hurried over to his black F-150, which had his AR-15 on a rack mounted in the back of the cab. As he grabbed the door handle and depressed the release button to yank open the door, he hesitated. Some weird sticky substance coated the handle. Releasing his grip with mild difficulty, he stared down at his open left palm. Whatever the sticky material was, it was clear and colorless. Lifting his hand to his nose, he smelled it, but it was odorless. Gingerly using the index finger of his right hand, he repeatedly touched along the door handle to check the extent of the mysterious sticky material, which wasn’t very much in total but covered its entirety.
Who the hell had the nerve to disrespect his favorite possession, he wondered. On top of the irritation he was feeling about Janet’s attitude, he was beside himself with this new personal transgression and let out a string of curse words. Then, after a moment ofindecision, he reckoned he couldn’t leave whatever it was on his beloved truck’s door handle for fear it might permanently mar its surface. Running back into the kitchen and grabbing the spray bottle of glass cleaner from under the sink along with a handful of paper towels, he made short work of removing the sticky stuff. After tossing the dirty paper towels in the nearby trash barrel, he returned to his vehicle and climbed up into the cab.
Backing out from Janet’s cottage onto a gravel road, he gunned the F-150. By the time he got to the paved road, he was going at a good clip and had to abruptly brake before pulling out to head north. The American Pest Control Company was six miles up the road in the direction of the town of Livermore.
Within seconds, Ethan was cruising well over the speed limit as he nervously glanced at the time. It was going to be close, but if there were no unforeseen obstacles, he would make it on time. He certainly hoped he wasn’t going to be late because in his current mood, he might not be able to withstand one of Art Sorenson’s tongue-lashings. Art was Ethan’s supervisor, and he and Ethan didn’t see eye to eye on a host of issues.
Ethan let out an extended sigh. It might have been an emotionally trying morning in many respects, but at least for a moment he could calm down and appreciate that it was one fantastically gorgeous late July day. The sky was entirely cloudless, and thanks to the morning dew, the sunlight was causing flashes of diamond-like sparkling in all the open fields. Adding to the scene, the trees comprising the dense temperate rainforests lining the road and extending up the various craggy mountains were as lush as he could ever remember.
Unfortunately and despite the gorgeous scenery, such comforting, pleasant thoughts didn’t last long. In a flash, his mind revertedto being major-league pissed at Viktor and Nikolai for yet again failing to show up for last night’s maneuver. And, as if that wasn’t bad enough, he was now being forced to weather Janet’s obvious feminist disrespect. There was no doubt in Ethan’s mind that both situations needed to be confronted and rectified immediately.
Ethan headed into the last curve in the road before the American Pest Control Company and took his foot off the accelerator to allow his truck to begin slowing. But the moment he did, he began to experience a strange sensation in the palm of his right hand that quickly spread out into all five of his fingers. The sensation was akin to pins and needles but different and less agreeable, almost like pain. Although he had never considered pins and needles to be pleasant, he certainly never found them disturbing. Yet this current sensation somehow seemed particularly disconcerting, making him take his hand off the steering wheel to check it out. To his surprise, in spite of the growing intensity of the sensation, he saw nothing amiss. Quickly he regrasped the steering wheel and redirected his attention back out the windshield as he closed in on his destination. His truck had now slowed considerably.
Pulling off the road, Ethan coasted into his usual parking spot. The moment he came to a full stop, he glanced back down at his hand. Once again it appeared entirely normal, yet the unpleasant sensation had continued to intensify and even begun to travel up his arm. It had now morphed into something closer to pain but still not pain, per se. There was also something new. The muscles in his forearm had begun to twitch, which progressed rapidly into multiple individual, localized cramps. In the next instant some fingers began snapping in their own kind of spasm, each finger contracting into a claw, causing sharp pain like a charley horse, but then, just as suddenly, they would relax before another electric jolt of discomfort.
As all these various symptoms rapidly progressed, particularly the spasms, Ethan felt an overpowering sense of anxiety settle over him like a smothering blanket. All at once he found himself unable to think much at all, let alone clearly. Instinctively he became aware he needed medical attention and needed it immediately, meaning he had to get himself to the office of Dr. Robert Nielson, the only doctor and medical care in town, and he had to get there fast.
Since he hadn’t turned off his truck’s engine, Ethan threw the shift into reverse and spun his tires as he pulled back out into the road without even checking for traffic. Luckily there was none. Then as quickly as he could, he turned the truck around and accelerated back the way he’d come.
Fighting through spasms, sharp, intense but fleeting pains, and overwhelming anxiety, fear, and confusion, Ethan raced past the turnoff to Janet’s house and headed directly on into the town center, where half the businesses were vacant. Only Daniels Hardware, which belonged to Ethan’s friend JD’s parents; the Huber Convenience, which belonged to Janet’s parents; and Ted’s Diner looked somewhat similar to how they’d always looked. All the other places were mere shadows of their former selves, including the huge, empty, multistory Bennet Shoe factory itself.
Screeching to a stop outside the old Bennet Shoe Company’s clinic building, which Dr. Nielson had acquired when the entire company closed, Ethan stumbled out of the cab and on shaky legs made his way inside. Staggering into Dr. Nielson’s office, Ethan confronted Melanie Hopkins, the doctor’s nurse/secretary.
“I’m sick and in awful pain,” Ethan managed to gasp while trying to steady himself, leaning on the front of Melanie’s desk. “I’m also going crazy.” Several patients in the waiting area all looked up from their phones.
Melanie saw the involuntary spasms Ethan was fighting in both arms and portions of his agonized face. The second thing she noticed was that his pupils were smaller than any pupils she’d ever seen, appearing like mere periods at the end of a printed sentence.
Leaping out of her seat, Melanie rushed around the desk and directed Ethan to move out of the waiting room and back into one of the examination rooms, which he was able to do with significant difficulty. While she quickly donned sterile gloves, she told him to climb up on the aged exam table, where he ended up writhing around in pain and terror. Melanie secured him by quickly raising the guardrails on both sides.
“What’s wrong and what happened?” she demanded nervously. “The doctor will need to know because at the moment he’s over in Clinton doing his rounds at the hospital.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong, and as far as I know, nothing happened,” Ethan squeaked. “Everything was fine. I was just driving to work, and it hit me like a ton of bricks. Truly. I’m bad, and it all came out of the blue. As I said, I’m going crazy. I can’t stand it.”
“Had you already been out on a job spraying this morning?” Melanie prodded. She knew he worked for the American Pest Control Company.
“No, I hadn’t even gotten to work yet.”
Quickly Melanie took Ethan’s pulse and then blood pressure, leaving the cuff in place. His pulse was rapid but regular and although the blood pressure was elevated, it wasn’t that far out of normal.
“You have to help me,” Ethan managed to gasp through grimaces of pain and a terrifying sense of impending doom. “Please! Everything seems to be going haywire in my body, even my mouth.”
“What’s wrong with your mouth?” Melanie asked as she usedher cell to speed dial the doctor. As an experienced nurse, she could sense that Ethan, although conscious, was in extremis, but she had no idea why—there was no blood loss or sign of trauma.Could it be psychosomatic?She doubted it, not with all the visible spasms on his arms and face. She’d never seen such symptoms in a patient in all her six years of training at New York City’s Bellevue Hospital, where she thought she’d seen everything.
