CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - THE MILKSHAKE
He woke up sideways. Bone dry. Swathed in blankets. Back on the couch. Inside. Clutching Mosey close to his chest.
Despite the blankets. And his dryness. He was still cold.
He dropped little Mosey. With a *pflumpf* to the floor. The cat sat upright for a moment. Before crashing over onto its side. As Catcher bundled the blankets tighter around him.
He heard a noise in the kitchen. That broke him out of his dazing. He coughed. Twice. And sniffed. Only to not be able to.
He sat up. Rubbing at his nose.
A headache showed itself. One that wrapped around the front of his head. And hung there like a giant band-aid. On the inside of his skull.
He stood on shaky legs. Testy. Before he stumbled off toward the other room.
"Hi sleepyhead." Agatha said. As he shuffled into the kitchen. Blanket clutched about him. His head dizzy. Throwing the room about.
His feet slid sideways. And he stumbled. Lara came out from behind the fridge. Catching him. Interesting. Catching a catcher...
"Whoa, you okay?" she asked. Helping him to the counter. She was in her sleep pants. Dark. And blue. With bunnies on them. A black camisole. Different clothes than last time.
Agatha wore an outfit. To match her mom's pants.
Lara had hair pulled back now. Revealing the bruise. That ran the length of her jaw.
Catcher reached up. And palmed the side of his head. The room still spinning. As he tried to steady it.
"Here," Lara set down a glass of water. In front of him. "Drink a little bit of this." He picked it up. And sipped lightly. Before setting it back down.
"You slept forever!" Agatha had crawled up onto the counter. Her bottom on the top. Her feet dangling off. Her toes warm in fuzzy bunny slippers.
"I did?" His throat was cottony. His lungs stuffed with cobwebs.
"You slept the whole day and night and half the day again!" She exclaimed. "I thought you were dead."
"You did sleep a long time, do you feel alright?" Lara asked. Noticing the way his skin looked. Pale. And yellowish. Almost like old cheese.
He cowered away from her eyes. Upon sight of the bruise again. Remembering what he'd done.
"You sleep like a rock." Agatha curled into his vision. Leaning crooked. To make sure she had his attention. "I had the music turned all the way up."
"Much to my disapproval, I might add." Lara went back to the fridge. Licking at something on her finger. The one not splinted. Agatha smiled widely.
He licked his teeth. Trying to get rid of the cottony feel. "You probably have horrible breath," Agatha explained. "You slept all day and night and day with your mouth open. I once saw a fly go in there."
"No fly went into his mouth..."
"Did too! I saw it!" She claimed. "It probably was crawling around and laid eggs and now he's going to spit out babies one day soon!" she was enthralled.
"Agatha, that's disgusting..." her mom came back out of the fridge. Holding a carton of milk. It kept mooing. Till she shook it.
"They're going to come out like little white worms and they're gonna crawl around in your teeth and when you floss you'll scratch their little eyeballs..."
"Agatha stop it, you're making him sick. You're making me sick. Where do you get stories like this?"
"Around." Agatha said coyly. As Lara lowered an eyebrow to her. Smiling. And shaking her head.
"Are you feeling okay?" Lara came to the counter. Asking again. And set the milk down. Reaching out. To touch Catcher's forehead.
He ducked away. And she pulled back. Looking at him. He looked at the counter. Running his fingers through the cracks in the tile. Feeling the grout.
Clearing her throat. Lara came over and kissed the top of Agatha's head. Whispering to her. "Test his forehead for me, sweetie."
Agatha reached out. Her tongue coming out to help her reach. And took his forehead in her palm. Part of her little belly showing.
Catcher looked up at her. But not at Lara.
"He's warm." Agatha diagnosed. "He's probably sick."
"That rain probably didn't do him any good." Lara commented. Going to the cupboards.
"Can we watch cartoons?" Agatha asked. Peeking out. Lara scrunched her face. Thinking. Not very hard.
"Pleeeeeaaaazzzzzz? I really like cartoons! They'll make Catcher feel better!" She begged.
Her stretched face made Lara smile.
"Is that so huh?"
"Yes, it's true." She said. Almost stoically.
"Well then, I suppose yes."
"Yay!" Agatha jumped down. Ran around. Climbed up onto the counter once more. Pressed a button. And a hologram platform slid out from the wall.
Pressing another few buttons. A picture came up. Of a cartoon. Wile E. Coyote. Chasing the Roadrunner. A new version. One where he actually catches. The damn bird.
Agatha went back to her spot. Sitting next to Catcher.
She poked him. "Guess what?"
He didn't look up. Only tilted his head towards her. Slightly. "What?" His voice was low. And sullen.
"Mom's making MILKSHAKES!" She screamed it. Making Lara jump as she poured a packet of something into a mug. Making Catcher cringe. And reach up to take hold of his aching head.
"Agatha, honey, don't scream." Lara put the mug in the microwave. And turned it on. It tested the beverage. And set the exact time.
Agatha cringed. Before smiling widely. A hand going over her mouth. And she whispered. "Do you want a milkshake?"
"No." His throat raw. Causing him pain. His twisting face. Made Lara's face twist. But he didn't look at her.
He folded his arms up onto the table. Setting his head down on top of it. Closing his eyes.
Agatha turned away from her cartoons. Where she'd escaped to. And frowned at his ho hum demeanor. "Catcher?" His eyes tightened. As if it hurt to hear her. "Are you okay?"
Three times he'd been asked that. The answer was always the same. He'd just never said it. Silly women.
"I feel sick."
Lara went to the sink. Motion detected. Wet a rag. And came back. Putting it against his head.
His eyes had been closed. So he hadn't seen her coming.
"We thought a milkshake would make you feel better." Agatha smiled at him. But he didn't smile back.
"I don't like this feeling." He mumbled. Feeling the droplets of cold water. Press against the side of his head. Puddling there. His hand went down to his belly. Feeling it grumble. And kick his appendix. Hard.
The microwave played a song. A snippet of Bach. Preprogrammed. Signaling it was done. Lara went there. Popped it open. And took out a mug. Steaming.
"Here Catcher, drink this." she pushed him up. The rag sliding off with a wet plop. His eyelids heavy. "You'll feel better."
His lips were pale. Almost blue. While his skin took on a gray color. Under the lights. A chill coursed over him. Lara was worried.
"Agatha, can you make your own milkshake?"
Agatha didn't turn away from the holovision. "Yeah." Her head was cocked to the side. Watching the 24-hour cartoon channel. Uninterrupted.
"I'm going to take Catcher upstairs."
Now she turned around.
"Why?"
"I'm going to take him up to his room. He doesn't feel good." Lara said. Smiling comfortingly. "I'll be back down in a little bit."
She looked at Catcher. Pale. And sickly. Before nodding to her mom. "Okay." And turning back to the cartoon.
"C'mon," Lara coaxed him up. He was too weak to pull away. And if he could have. He would have fallen. He'd become so feeble. In all of three minutes.
She threw his arm up around her neck. To help them both. The blanket falling away. As she took his side. Her hands wrapped around his waist. Holding him up.
He had no willpower of his own.
His head bobbed back and forth on his neck. As they went up the stairs.
The stairs were hard. But finally. They reached the top. And made their way down the hall.
"uhnoh..."
"What?" Lara tried to understand.
"No..." Catcher twisted away from her. Falling to his knees. Bracing himself with his hands.
She stood there. Looking at him. Keeled over in the middle of the hallway. He was panting. Shaking. Slick with a cold sweat. He shone under the lights.
Licking her lips. She kneeled down in front of him. Tipping her head. So that she could see his face. Pushing a piece of loose hair behind her ear.
"Catcher?"
His eyes were closed. His mouth open. Panting breaths. She watched a tear squeeze out from his closed eyes. Roll down his nose. And fall with a plop to the floor.
"Why are you crying?"
He shook his head. Sucking in his breath. He reached up. And shoved away the tears. Before leaning back up. And fighting to stand.
She watched him from where she kneeled. As he crawled to the wall. As he climbed to his feet. As he found a footing somewhat. Walked a couple steps. Then fell against the wall.
She rose. Slowly. Licking her lips again. Her arms crossed. Following him.
He tried to push himself off. To cross the hall. And nearly fell. Until she caught him.
He tried to fight away from her. Again.
"Catcher stop." She turned. Holding him up. With difficulty. All his weight. Dead in her arms. She stared at him.
He looked away. But she demanded his eyes. "Look at me." She said it sternly. But sincere.
He looked at her. Reluctantly. His eyes traced the bruise. Glossy. And discolored.
"You didn't mean to. It's not your fault." She said it slowly. Sounding out each word. Emphasizing every syllable. "Alright?"
There were still tears in his eyes.
She pushed his arms up. Over her shoulders. And hugged him. Tight. As he fell against her. "I forgive you."
His face hit her shoulder. Her face in his hair. She breathed him in. He cried. Silently.
"I forgive you."
Catcher stifled his breath. Before the onslaught came.
Lara let him cry.
Agatha smiled.
And crept back down the stairs. Sucking on her milkshake.
He woke up sideways. Bone dry. Swathed in blankets. Back on the couch. Inside. Clutching Mosey close to his chest.
Despite the blankets. And his dryness. He was still cold.
He dropped little Mosey. With a *pflumpf* to the floor. The cat sat upright for a moment. Before crashing over onto its side. As Catcher bundled the blankets tighter around him.
He heard a noise in the kitchen. That broke him out of his dazing. He coughed. Twice. And sniffed. Only to not be able to.
He sat up. Rubbing at his nose.
A headache showed itself. One that wrapped around the front of his head. And hung there like a giant band-aid. On the inside of his skull.
He stood on shaky legs. Testy. Before he stumbled off toward the other room.
"Hi sleepyhead." Agatha said. As he shuffled into the kitchen. Blanket clutched about him. His head dizzy. Throwing the room about.
His feet slid sideways. And he stumbled. Lara came out from behind the fridge. Catching him. Interesting. Catching a catcher...
"Whoa, you okay?" she asked. Helping him to the counter. She was in her sleep pants. Dark. And blue. With bunnies on them. A black camisole. Different clothes than last time.
Agatha wore an outfit. To match her mom's pants.
Lara had hair pulled back now. Revealing the bruise. That ran the length of her jaw.
Catcher reached up. And palmed the side of his head. The room still spinning. As he tried to steady it.
"Here," Lara set down a glass of water. In front of him. "Drink a little bit of this." He picked it up. And sipped lightly. Before setting it back down.
"You slept forever!" Agatha had crawled up onto the counter. Her bottom on the top. Her feet dangling off. Her toes warm in fuzzy bunny slippers.
"I did?" His throat was cottony. His lungs stuffed with cobwebs.
"You slept the whole day and night and half the day again!" She exclaimed. "I thought you were dead."
"You did sleep a long time, do you feel alright?" Lara asked. Noticing the way his skin looked. Pale. And yellowish. Almost like old cheese.
He cowered away from her eyes. Upon sight of the bruise again. Remembering what he'd done.
"You sleep like a rock." Agatha curled into his vision. Leaning crooked. To make sure she had his attention. "I had the music turned all the way up."
"Much to my disapproval, I might add." Lara went back to the fridge. Licking at something on her finger. The one not splinted. Agatha smiled widely.
He licked his teeth. Trying to get rid of the cottony feel. "You probably have horrible breath," Agatha explained. "You slept all day and night and day with your mouth open. I once saw a fly go in there."
"No fly went into his mouth..."
"Did too! I saw it!" She claimed. "It probably was crawling around and laid eggs and now he's going to spit out babies one day soon!" she was enthralled.
"Agatha, that's disgusting..." her mom came back out of the fridge. Holding a carton of milk. It kept mooing. Till she shook it.
"They're going to come out like little white worms and they're gonna crawl around in your teeth and when you floss you'll scratch their little eyeballs..."
"Agatha stop it, you're making him sick. You're making me sick. Where do you get stories like this?"
"Around." Agatha said coyly. As Lara lowered an eyebrow to her. Smiling. And shaking her head.
"Are you feeling okay?" Lara came to the counter. Asking again. And set the milk down. Reaching out. To touch Catcher's forehead.
He ducked away. And she pulled back. Looking at him. He looked at the counter. Running his fingers through the cracks in the tile. Feeling the grout.
Clearing her throat. Lara came over and kissed the top of Agatha's head. Whispering to her. "Test his forehead for me, sweetie."
Agatha reached out. Her tongue coming out to help her reach. And took his forehead in her palm. Part of her little belly showing.
Catcher looked up at her. But not at Lara.
"He's warm." Agatha diagnosed. "He's probably sick."
"That rain probably didn't do him any good." Lara commented. Going to the cupboards.
"Can we watch cartoons?" Agatha asked. Peeking out. Lara scrunched her face. Thinking. Not very hard.
"Pleeeeeaaaazzzzzz? I really like cartoons! They'll make Catcher feel better!" She begged.
Her stretched face made Lara smile.
"Is that so huh?"
"Yes, it's true." She said. Almost stoically.
"Well then, I suppose yes."
"Yay!" Agatha jumped down. Ran around. Climbed up onto the counter once more. Pressed a button. And a hologram platform slid out from the wall.
Pressing another few buttons. A picture came up. Of a cartoon. Wile E. Coyote. Chasing the Roadrunner. A new version. One where he actually catches. The damn bird.
Agatha went back to her spot. Sitting next to Catcher.
She poked him. "Guess what?"
He didn't look up. Only tilted his head towards her. Slightly. "What?" His voice was low. And sullen.
"Mom's making MILKSHAKES!" She screamed it. Making Lara jump as she poured a packet of something into a mug. Making Catcher cringe. And reach up to take hold of his aching head.
"Agatha, honey, don't scream." Lara put the mug in the microwave. And turned it on. It tested the beverage. And set the exact time.
Agatha cringed. Before smiling widely. A hand going over her mouth. And she whispered. "Do you want a milkshake?"
"No." His throat raw. Causing him pain. His twisting face. Made Lara's face twist. But he didn't look at her.
He folded his arms up onto the table. Setting his head down on top of it. Closing his eyes.
Agatha turned away from her cartoons. Where she'd escaped to. And frowned at his ho hum demeanor. "Catcher?" His eyes tightened. As if it hurt to hear her. "Are you okay?"
Three times he'd been asked that. The answer was always the same. He'd just never said it. Silly women.
"I feel sick."
Lara went to the sink. Motion detected. Wet a rag. And came back. Putting it against his head.
His eyes had been closed. So he hadn't seen her coming.
"We thought a milkshake would make you feel better." Agatha smiled at him. But he didn't smile back.
"I don't like this feeling." He mumbled. Feeling the droplets of cold water. Press against the side of his head. Puddling there. His hand went down to his belly. Feeling it grumble. And kick his appendix. Hard.
The microwave played a song. A snippet of Bach. Preprogrammed. Signaling it was done. Lara went there. Popped it open. And took out a mug. Steaming.
"Here Catcher, drink this." she pushed him up. The rag sliding off with a wet plop. His eyelids heavy. "You'll feel better."
His lips were pale. Almost blue. While his skin took on a gray color. Under the lights. A chill coursed over him. Lara was worried.
"Agatha, can you make your own milkshake?"
Agatha didn't turn away from the holovision. "Yeah." Her head was cocked to the side. Watching the 24-hour cartoon channel. Uninterrupted.
"I'm going to take Catcher upstairs."
Now she turned around.
"Why?"
"I'm going to take him up to his room. He doesn't feel good." Lara said. Smiling comfortingly. "I'll be back down in a little bit."
She looked at Catcher. Pale. And sickly. Before nodding to her mom. "Okay." And turning back to the cartoon.
"C'mon," Lara coaxed him up. He was too weak to pull away. And if he could have. He would have fallen. He'd become so feeble. In all of three minutes.
She threw his arm up around her neck. To help them both. The blanket falling away. As she took his side. Her hands wrapped around his waist. Holding him up.
He had no willpower of his own.
His head bobbed back and forth on his neck. As they went up the stairs.
The stairs were hard. But finally. They reached the top. And made their way down the hall.
"uhnoh..."
"What?" Lara tried to understand.
"No..." Catcher twisted away from her. Falling to his knees. Bracing himself with his hands.
She stood there. Looking at him. Keeled over in the middle of the hallway. He was panting. Shaking. Slick with a cold sweat. He shone under the lights.
Licking her lips. She kneeled down in front of him. Tipping her head. So that she could see his face. Pushing a piece of loose hair behind her ear.
"Catcher?"
His eyes were closed. His mouth open. Panting breaths. She watched a tear squeeze out from his closed eyes. Roll down his nose. And fall with a plop to the floor.
"Why are you crying?"
He shook his head. Sucking in his breath. He reached up. And shoved away the tears. Before leaning back up. And fighting to stand.
She watched him from where she kneeled. As he crawled to the wall. As he climbed to his feet. As he found a footing somewhat. Walked a couple steps. Then fell against the wall.
She rose. Slowly. Licking her lips again. Her arms crossed. Following him.
He tried to push himself off. To cross the hall. And nearly fell. Until she caught him.
He tried to fight away from her. Again.
"Catcher stop." She turned. Holding him up. With difficulty. All his weight. Dead in her arms. She stared at him.
He looked away. But she demanded his eyes. "Look at me." She said it sternly. But sincere.
He looked at her. Reluctantly. His eyes traced the bruise. Glossy. And discolored.
"You didn't mean to. It's not your fault." She said it slowly. Sounding out each word. Emphasizing every syllable. "Alright?"
There were still tears in his eyes.
She pushed his arms up. Over her shoulders. And hugged him. Tight. As he fell against her. "I forgive you."
His face hit her shoulder. Her face in his hair. She breathed him in. He cried. Silently.
"I forgive you."
Catcher stifled his breath. Before the onslaught came.
Lara let him cry.
Agatha smiled.
And crept back down the stairs. Sucking on her milkshake.