The Misbegotten

I had just put the smart device back onto my nightstand. I was glancing back at Katie with what had to be the goofiest expression on my face when I realized something was wrong. Everything I’d had been thinking about vanished in seconds.

Her eyes filled with tears. She began to stand, but got no farther than hunched over. She was at the waist, clutching her midsection. Her other hand she clamped over her mouth. So fierce was her grip, the blood had drained from both her finger tips and her cheeks. She took a few staggering steps from the bed when I understood what was happening.

Katie was going to be sick! She was going to throw up all over the carpeted floor!

She took a few more wavering strides before I bodily picked her up and rushed her to the bathroom. I didn’t bother trying to get her to the toilet or the sink. I just shoved aside the opaque, glass doors, tore down our drying towels and let her vomit into the bathtub. I held her upright, positioned correctly, so she wouldn’t make a mess all over the tiled floor.

By the third or fourth retch she paused long enough so I could get her loose-fitting shirt off. I didn’t want her to foul any of her clothing. I only just made it. I was one second past pulling it over her head when another powerful heave came.

Once more, she bent over the tub. She splashed it with the last contents of her stomach.

I lowered her to her knees and helped her brace her hands, so she could hold herself upright. I bolted over to the light switch, turning on the lights and the high powered ceiling fan at the same time. We were going to need it. A few seconds later, I was back at her side with a glass of water and a damp wash cloth in hand.

Katie continued to lean over the edge of the tub for a minute or two. When it seemed her bout of nausea had passed. She glanced in my direction, her eyes still watery and blood shot. She took the cup of water and began to swish the clear liquid in her mouth. She did that for a few moments, then gargled for a few more and spit like a prize fighter into the bathtub.

“Oh god, that was horrible!” she announced with a gasp of air. Her voice was raw, strained in my ears.

“It snuck up on you didn’t it?” I inquired, knowing firsthand what she’d just experienced.

“Fuck yeah, and fast!” she exhaled, took another gulp of water, repeating what she’d done before. Only now, she took a much smaller sip. This she swallowed. “I was fine one minute,” she went on, “and then I felt dizzy. Before I could stop it, my insides turned upside down and everything just came up.

“That was the most fucking grossest shit I have ever felt in such a short amount of time.” She looked at me askance, from the corner of her eye. “Is that what it felt like this morning?”

I nodded. “Almost to the letter.”

“Fuck that shit, Estefan, that was fucking fucked up.”

I laughed. Katie always found a way to say the f-word at least three times a sentence when something completely went against her nature. Bomb-puking seemed to be one such thing.

“You ok, though?” I queried. I was still smiling at her colorful way of describing the obvious. “Do you want anything?”

“No.” She put one hand on her right knee and used it as leverage to stand upright. “I’m just gonna brush my teeth, because the taste in my mouth is going to make me wanna up-chuck again. I don’t think my stomach and throat could take any more abuse.”

I was watching her when she teetered coming erect. I rushed to her. I held her by the elbow for support and walked her to the sink, so she could brush her teeth.

“I guess, when the shit hits the fan, we make a pretty good team.” She reached for her toothbrush, next to mine in the holder. She missed it, didn’t even nudge it.

I frowned and stared at her for a few more moments, looking into her eyes. I was trying to see if they’d dilated, indicative that she was sicker than she was letting on. But, they appeared normal to me. They were a little watery, but otherwise, they looked fine. I plucked her toothbrush from it place and opened the drawer where I kept the toothpaste. I quickly spread some across the top of the bristles and then gave it to her.

“Thanks, ‘Cuz,” she said as she grasped the handle and made to brush her teeth, then stopped short. “I’m glad we were both here when each of us got sick, it’s kinda cute… gross, but cute.” Then she began to clean her mouth in earnest.

“You ok, Kat?” I had to ask, because I wanted to start cleaning up her mess. The smell was starting to get to me and there was no way in fucking hell did I wish to throw up for a second time that morning. That would be… Fucking fucked up!

She nodded. Her hand supported her weight as she held onto the countertop.

“Ok, but if you feel woozy or nauseous or anything out of the ordinary, you make sure you sit down. Don’t try to do anything, ok? I will be right over here.” I pointed at the bathtub.

She grimaced at once. “Tho, Effy, thon’t cween that! I’ll thoo thwat,” she said around all the crap in her mouth.

I just waved her off, walked over to the tub. I turned on the shower, looking back at her over my shoulder. “If you can do it for me, then I can do it for you. Besides you said it yourself, we’re a team right? A good one at that, so just take care of your dragon mouth. I’ll take care of this shit.”

She smiled and flipped me off, a true multi-task’er. She turned back to the sink to spit. “Fucker!” was her accusation once her mouth was clear of suds.

“That’s cousin-fucker to you, beyotch,” I corrected without thinking. I manually directed the showerhead about the bathtub. I made sure I didn’t miss a single drop of Katie’s puke.

By the sink, Katie laughed out loud. Her beautiful, rich laugh came from somewhere deep in her throat. It could originate in no other place than the very wellspring of her soul.