Summoning Rain

Chapter 5

Andrew woke to discover the swelling of his abdomen had not abated. He thought he might have an exaggerated perception of it. That maybe he just felt grossly swollen because of the uncomfortable bloating.

Wrong. The bathroom mirror delivered a shock. Indeterminate doughiness had become an undeniable belly. His navel had stretched ovoid and little of his remaining musculature was still visible. The bulge was low, like a bowling ball was sitting in his pelvis. It wasn't hard or solid, though.

Pressing and rubbing squished and rolled the contents like a gelatin-filled bag of gel stress balls. Even if he had somehow gained 20 pounds overnight, it shouldn't feel like this. And, since he didn't weigh himself regularly anymore, he might have gained some of that in the last four months rather than all in the last 48 hours. Baffled by the texture, by the entire situation, he kept shoving his fingers as deeply as they would go and pushing around the pliable spheres. Until he started to feel nauseous.

Not wanting to worry Jason, he pulled on a hoodie. The loose fit and kangaroo pocket disguised the pot belly. Also, he could put his hands in the pocket further masking the distortion. Or the fact that he kept touching it like holding or petting would soothe the physical or psychological situation.

"Feeling better?" Jason asked, looking up from his laptop.

Andrew shrugged, "Yeah, some."

Jason still looked concerned. His dark eyes scanned the hoodie-pajama ensemble.

The kitchen had been cleaned up. Andrew couldn't quite remember the state he left it, but there was no evidence of his midnight forage now. He even briefly wondered if he had dreamed it. However, upon opening the freezer, he found the box of fish sticks gone.

Too bad: he still had a craving for fish. His stomach rumbled impatiently as he switched to the fridge, looking for something else appealing. He grabbed a pudding cup while he considered.

"I guess it's a good sign if you're hungry," Jason commented.

Andrew looked around and realized he was being watched. He shrugged and knocked back more of the pudding.

"You want me to make you breakfast?"

"Huh?" Andrew looked up from scraping out the container with his finger. "You're not my mother," he chuckled awkwardly.

Not that care and attentiveness were out of character for Jason. The man could be aloof, but he never gave the impression of arrogance or disdain. Andrew remembered his first impression of Jason: the correct guess that he was going to be a teacher. He just had that type of personality and no amount of standoffishness could hide it. So, why was it making Andrew feel weird?

"Yeah, well, since she's not here." Jason stood up from the table. "How about eggs? Should be easy on your stomach."

Andrew looked bewildered as Jason took him by the shoulders and directed him to the other chair. He even pulled it out as though not trusting Andrew could do it himself. And then he took the empty pudding cup to toss it in the trash.

"I can cook for myself," Andrew finally managed to voice while Jason got out the frying pan.

"Yeah," Jason dismissed. "You want scrambled or fried?" he asked as he took the egg container out of the fridge.

"Scrambled," Andrew gave in.

Resting his elbow on the table and his head in his hand, Andrew watched. As though by its own accord, his other hand left his pocket and slipped under his shirt. Pushing his fingers into his waistband, he rubbed along his skin.

"You want orange juice?" Jason asked as he moved toward the fridge.

"Yeah," Andrew answered absently.