The Hidden Toxin ✔(#6 in the Our Side of The Dice Series)

Chapter 35: Whiskey and Whinings

Timeless Chistye Prudy, Moscow.
10:50 pm.

Ebunoluwa could not decipher what was increasing the tempo of the headache she was feeling. Was it the excessively bright bulbs that dangled from the chandeliers on the ceiling? The tongue-twisting classical music playing in the background that was most likely sung by some unknown Russian? Or was it the bitter-sweet feeling of the Irish whiskey against her tongue pallet?

Ebun didn't understand why she couldn't bring herself to stop drinking such a terrible drink. She remembered when Sean would always force her to have a glass. He'd always mumble about how homely the liquor felt whenever the cold liquid merged with the tip of his tongue. He'd always say: "Irish whiskey has become the drink of the Russians, making me feel at home!"

Ebun never saw much sense in that statement, mainly because Sean was a black man even though he'd spent many years in Russia.

But here she was, drinking herself into a stupor. For what reason in particular? She couldn't figure it out. Perhaps it was because she didn't know which other drink to order when Nurse Zoya pulled her out of Khovrino Hospital and forced her to come and have some drinks. Although she detested this drink, it was the only liquor she knew. She wasn't in the spirits to try new things. Better the devil you know than the angel you don't, or so the saying goes.

It was quite the puzzle trying to know what was triggering the nauseous feeling within her. The mishmash of sounds and bright illuminations was a noisy swirl to her senses. The cacophony of sounds, including the faintest ones, coupled with the unnecessary iridescence of lights, was spiraling deeper down into the pit of her stomach and was quickly forming into a knot. A very tight knot. She needed to loosen it up. She had to. She felt like puking.

But she had to try her best to keep her cool for Nurse Zoya's sake.

"You know," She spoke after a long session of silence. She playfully twirled her whiskey glass with the tip of her fingers. Perhaps, focusing on something else will help subside the queasiness she was feeling. "I was very pissed and frustrated with how things turned out."

Ebun didn't want to speak about what happened a few weeks ago at the hospital. It was like opening a fresh wound all over again. But she had to.

"I ahnderstend how you feel, ma'am," Nurse Zoya, who tried her best not to drink too much, answered her boss with all the concentration and attentiveness she could manage to have. If she didn't try to stay sober for Ebun's sake, she was scared that none of them would be able to drive back to the hospital.

"Oh, Zoyaaaa! You don't understand. Trust me!" Ebun poured everything left of the glass into her mouth and swallowed it in one gulp. Then she dropped the glass cup on the table in a very lousy manner. Nurse Zoya flinched.

"Do you know how many years I had to wait and endure? Do you know the number of weapon usage training I had to undergo as I waited the day I was going to see the bastards who raped me? It took me thirteen years, Zoya! Thirteen freaking years! I've been in Russia for seven years now, preparing so studiously for that special day to come.

And it came, but it came in a way that made me wish I hadn't waited and endured for such a long time. It made me feel like I've been wasting my time. Do you know how frustrating that is?"

Now that she had vented her genuine sentiments, she could feel hot tears about to emerge from the corners of her eyes.

This time, Nurse Zoya didn't say anything. She figured it was best to let her boss express every one of her feelings without interruption. She'd watched Ebun for the past week ever since Gilbert walked into the hospital on his own accord and got killed because he refused to reveal the identity of the masked guy.