I
Sally rushed into the dining room, her hair ready, her bag on her shoulder, and impatience in her voice.
"Where's Michael?" she asked.
Mary put the paper on the table and turned around.
"Asleep, I guess," she answered, "he came home really late last night. I wonder he has been drinking?"
"Oh, I hope not!" said Sally. "He has to come with us!"
The three friends were spending their holydays on a beautiful beach house which was for let for the whole summer. The place was peaceful, the neighbors quiet, the weather nice, and everything so damn perfect that year after year they returned to this wonderful beach. Now it was half past ten in the morning, and Michael's laziness was belating their plans of going to town to buy food for the forthcoming week.
Sally went up the stairs to the first floor; there was a balcony and a small corridor farther to the left. She knocked twice on the door at the end and – getting no reply – swung it open and stepped inside Michael's room. Mary dropped the paper at the sound of Sally's scream, and seconds later she joined her upstairs. Michael lay on the floor, in his pajamas, and apparently unconscious. They shook him and called him, but he just wouldn't wake up.
Mary went swiftly down to the kitchen and rang Doctor White, one of the neighbors in the only thoroughfare there was. He had been a friend of them for some time now and less than five minutes later he was knocking on the front door. However, things were rather cool now, as Michael had recovered and was lying in his bed.
"We're sorry we called you in vane, doctor," apologised Sally, "but he gave us a fright!"
"Never mind, dear" said White, "it's always better to make oneself sure; and he is not completely awake yet."
Michael then explained that he had intended to go to the bathroom and take a shower, but – having not fully recovered from the previous night's hangover – he had passed out.
"Ok, you needn't talk anymore son," said the genial doctor and then, addressing Sally, he added, "would you go get him a glass of water, please?"
Sally went down to the kitchen and came back with a glass of water, which she handed to the doctor. The doctor put it over the night table and decided that Michael should sit up before drinking. He demanded for a cushion but there was none in sight.
"There is one inside the wardrobe," explained Michael, half awake half asleep, "over the upper drawers."
Both of the girls tried in vain to reach the cushion, but it was a trifle too high for them. White was way taller than the girls and he went for it; and then – cushion in hand – he sat again by Michael's side.
"Come on, son. Sit up," he said but the boy remained in his position. Twice the doctor repeated his command but Michael didn't move nor did he open his eyes. Not even the loud screams of the girls woke him up, as he had been dead for the last ten seconds.