Contagion in the Form of Soft Drinks
"This di-hic." Frowning, Chloe cleared her throat and tried again. "This disease is very pecul-hic." She sighed. "Peculiar. Hic. Blast it."
Becoming afflicted with an illness originating from Earth should not have been irritating. She had dealt with a variety of ailments such as common colds and sore throats before arriving at the psychic containment facility. While she had felt weary and slightly pained throughout each ordeal, she overcame them every time and gained immunity against the vile germs.
But this illness impeded her speech. She could not get a sentence out without her vocal chords squeezing to produce the intrusive sound Even when she did not speak, her upper body twitched with each contraction in her chest, the noise dulled by her pursed lips.
Bobby glanced over at her from his spot on a worn bean bag chair. "Sounds like a bad case of hiccups," he said, fiddling with the remote control. He tossed it between his palms, the dark ambience of the horror movie playing on the television screen casting a gray glow across his features.
Chloe's eyes widened. She had never heard of such a disease. It sounded quite primitive compared to her past illnesses. "What are hic-hic-cups?"
"You've never had 'em before?" he asked, shocked, and she shook her head. He lowered the volume when she hiccuped again. "How'd you start hiccuping?"
"It was after-hic-I drank a can of Diet Coca-Cola offered to me by Chef Cruller," she replied, enunciating the name of the beverage clearly. "As soon as I fin-hic-finished ingesting that sugary liquid, it felt as my, as you humans call this organ, h-hic-heart skipped a beat. Hic. Almost immediately afterwards, I was hiccuping." She wanted to be as succinct as possible. Leaving out any detail might have hindered her recovery. Based on how he observed her without altering his expression, Bobby seemed to have the information she needed to overcome the illness. But she still added, "I can supply you with-hic-more details if needed."
Her voice seemed to stun him. A shade of red crossed his freckled cheeks. Blinking, he bobbed his head in a curt, understanding nod. "Oh, nah, I get it. I've gotten hiccups before, so I know what happened."
"Wh-hic-at happened?" She cocked her head, hiccuping again.
He raised his hand, vaguely gesturing. She supposed he was trying to mimic the action of holding a can of soda. "It's, uh, the carbon or something. The bubbles. Makes ya hiccup."
"I-hic. I see," Chloe mused, straightening her back. She made a mental note to write the cause down in her notebook later. "To think an earthling bever-hic-age could cause what I be-hic-lieve is my diaphragm to-hic-contract and create this-hic-obstructive noise."
The corners of Bobby's mouth twisted upwards. It wasn't an unkind grin, but it contained hints of humor. He quickly creased his lips into a neutral line when she looked at him.
"Do you know h-hic-how to stop these hiccups? They are-" She was cut off by a weak cough of a hiccup escaping her. She massaged her throat as if she could dislodge them, but her vocal chords continued producing sporadic and quieter hiccups.
"Uh, um, hold your breath," Bobby said. "It, uh, usually makes it go away. Yeah."
"Does it matter how wide my-hic-mouth should be when I intake the air?"
Bobby's eyes widened. "Uh, n-no, I don't think so. Just do it like you're..." He trailed off, drumming his fingers on his knee. His index finger caught on the hole in his pants and tore into it, stretching the already baggy fabric, but he hardly seemed to care. "Like you're about to dive underwater and swim for a bit," he finished, glancing back at her.
"Under-hic-stood."
Chloe breathed in deeply and quickly pressed her lips together. She felt Bobby's eyes on her as she stared ahead at the dull yellow and orange wallpaper. She felt a hiccup rise in her throat despite her effort, but Bobby urged her to continue.
"They usually go away after thirty seconds for me. Maybe it's a bit longer for you 'cause you're an alien," he offered. His explanation was grounded in scientific fact much to her delight.
What would have been her human heart pumped a little faster. Her lungs fluttered for a moment, but she persevered. She held her breath for much longer while exploring the depths of Lake Oblongata and assumed her bout of difficulty with maintaining her breath was the twinge of frustration in her chest for contracting the illness in the first place.
Chef Cruller should have put warning labels on the side of the can. That way, I could've prevented this from happening, but I suppose another dose of immunity against an earthling illness is good, she thought, her cheeks reddening.
Chloe dipped her head and exhaled away from her face plate. Only the hum of the television filled the silence. She peered at Bobby, who watched her with an odd glimmer in his eyes, which she could not place.
She patted her chest and nodded to herself. "I do not feel anything stirring within me nor do I feel any abnormalities in my diaphragm." A smile tugged at her lips. "Thank you, Bobby. I appreciate your-"
"Hic."
Chloe stared at Bobby, who covered his mouth. He bounced in his bean bag, surprised by another hiccup passing through the spaces of his teeth. He opened his mouth to reply only to hiccup twice in a row, his eyes shiny and pupils dilating.
"By the greater galactic community, they're a contagion," Chloe gravely whispered. "We must be quarantined at once to prevent the infection from spreading." With a telekinetic push on the door, Chloe shut themselves in and nodded again to herself, approving her own idea. "There. The hiccups will not pass on to the others. I can watch over the progression of your illness whether the results are positive or negative."
Bobby tried to tell Chloe otherwise. He couldn't with the barrage of hiccups interrupting him every few seconds. But he supposed he didn't mind waiting in the television room for them to pass when Chloe pulled her bean bag chair closer to him.