In the Belly of the Beast

16

Geoffrey hadn't slept a wink all night. The pain had subsided near morning but he lay still, fearful that any movement would cause it to return. He felt like a trapped animal. He was trapped, trapped inside this gigantic bulk, in a body no longer mobile.

Crocodile tears coursed down his cheeks, dripped onto his chest, and disappeared into the deep crevices where rolling hills of fat collided.

And no one saw him cry.

When she appeared with the breakfast tray, Ruby notices the dark circles that had formed beneath his eyes. It was hard to tell in the dim light, but his pallor seemed gray.

"Geoffrey, are you O.K.?" she asked.

"Fine," he said as she laid the tray beside him.

He was so lethargic that he didn't even look at her.

"Call me when you're done," she said.

"Mmm," he grunted noncommittally.

The food on the tray looked fine but the thought of eating it turned his stomach.

Maybe he really was crazy.

What am I going to do? How can I do anything?

These two thoughts replayed in his brain in an unending loop.

He absently picked at the food on the tray. When Ruby came back to retrieve it, she could not believe he was finished.

"Are you sure you're done, Geoffrey? You hardly touched it."

For the first time that morning, he turned to her. His eyes were shot to hell. Even in this dim light, she looked fifteen, no, twenty years younger.

But how could that be?

The wrinkles seemed to be dissolving. Her haggard face had disappeared. She was actually attractive. And what was in her mouth? Her mouth was not the sunken, shriveled hole it was before.

Teeth?

It couldn't be. She had teeth in her mouth. You didn't just grow a third set of teeth overnight. You just didn't do it.

"Ruby?"

"Yes, Geoffrey."

She smiled at him and a perfect set of pearly whites flashed back at him. He had to be sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him.

"Would you raise the shades and open the curtains? I think I'd like a little sunshine today."

"Now Geoffrey. That's probably not a good idea. You're not feeling well, you know. You've hardly eaten a thing. I'm afraid you might be coming down with a bug or something."

"A bug?" he asked.

"Just a figure of speech," she said. "You need your rest, Geoffrey. Just lay back and try to rest."

"Maybe I should call a doctor," he said.

"You know they won't come here. No, try and rest. I'm sure you'll feel better this afternoon. I'm going to make you some chicken soup. Heard all my life that chicken soup is good for whatever ails you."

She closed the door behind her.

He let a few minutes pass. He wanted to be sure she wouldn't return, pop in unexpectedly, and find him on the phone. He groped about the bed until he located it, his portal to the outside world. It was entangled in the sheet.

He dialed 911. Nothing. Probably needed recharging. He grunted with effort and strained to reach the drawer of the nightstand beside his bed. He plugged the phone in. The only thing to do now was wait until the recharge was complete.

He thought of Danny and wished that she could be here with him right now. It wouldn't matter what her reaction to him would be. Even if she was repulsed by his appearance, she could still help him.