The Nighttime, Sniffling, Sneezing, Coughing, Aching, Stuffy Head, Fever, So-You-Can-Hallucinate Medicine

or

The First Time I Ever Did Over-the-Counter Cold Remedy Shots

 

            "Hullo, ahb home!"

            "Hi, hon," my dad said from the tv room.

            "She's back, call the zoo," my kid brother muttered from his room.

            "Verr-ry fuddy," I sighed back. I tossed my coat on my bed, kicked off my shoes and went up to see my dad. "Where's Bhom?"

            "Your mother's in class tonight," said my father, turning the sound down on the set. He looked at me and asked, "How ya doing?"

            "I thing I godda sinus cod frob da daycare," I groaned, looking nearly as wiped out as I felt.

            "Awww, did they make daddy's baby feel baaad?" Dad asked, doing that voice he always saved for when one of us was really in the dumps. Goofy, yes, but it never failed to make me cheer up a little. I giggled nasally and sat down in the crook of his arm while he babied me. "How 'bout some pizza for the baby?" he asked.

            I shook my head.

            "Ice cream?" he suggested.

            I shook my head again.

            "Alright, I tell you what. You decide on what you want to eat and I'll get you something that'll make you feel better, alright?"

            "'Kay, thanks, Dad."

            I should've known then when he came back with that bottle of thick blood red elixir that I was in trouble. Great analytical mind on my old man, but when it comes to cold remedies...

            Let's put it this way--the last sinus cold pain reliever/remedy my pop gave me shoulda been on the rocks with a little umbrella in it.

            "Whadis dat?" I asked, as he pulled the little plastic shot glass off the top.

            "Nyquil," said he, as he fought the child/dad proof cap. "It always helps me..."

            "Whedn you can gedd into it?" I smirked. He laughed sarcastically at me and handed me the bottle. I got it open with no trouble, but nearly passed out from the fumes the stuff was radiating. "Sheez, dis stuff smells like cherry flavored toxic waste."

            "You don't smell it," Dad said, filling the cup, "you drink it." He handed it to me and, very appropriately said, "Bottoms up!"

            Knowing my father would never steer me wrong, I downed the stuff, then nearly choked to death as the alcoholic vapors flooded my chest.

            "You alright?" my father asked. I nodded and waved my hand as if trying to cool off.

            "Whoa, man, gimme a lighter and I'll breath fire across the room." I said.

            "Well, you sound better already," my father laughed. "Why don't you go in your room and relax for a while."

            "Nah, I think I'll sit up for a while longer and work on my Creative Writing assignment," I said, turning and going to my room.

 

            Strange, I thought, walking down the hall, that I had never noticed that shade of plaid in our plush beige carpeting before.

            No matter.

            I'd never seen that three legged moose with the elephant ears and the cigar standing on the chandelier, either.

            "Could you be anymore screwed in the head than you are now?" came a voice next to me. I turned and found myself staring at myself.

            "Who are you?" I asked, as a matter of formality. "And why are you wearing that knappy lookin' 60's looking neon green mini-dress?"

            "I'm you, ya yutz," came the very-me reply. "And we like wild colors."

            I paused, very confused. "We do?"

            "We do."

            "Well...then...if you're me, who the hell am I?"

            "You are extremely screwed in the head, which kinda brings us full circle, dudnit?" the other me said.

            "Right," I agreed, feeling a little weird. "I think I'm gonna go to my room now."

            "You are in your room." I jumped slightly and realized I was right. Not only was I in my room, I was sitting on my bed.

            "You're right. I am pretty screwed."

            "Precisely," said the other me, perching casually on my desk. "You know what you need to do? You need to hang out with me some, get away, take off and do a little spontaneous shit, y'know?"

            "Well, I..."

            "I mean, when's the last time you really just let me wander around turning fields of gold into lakes of polka-dot, or...or making up a new world where you're the Cinderella-story type queen with..."

            "Magic powers and I turn everybody in my fifth grade class into my personal slaves." I finished. "I know you. You're my Imagination." The other me shrugged with a smile as my walls turned deep purple and a bunch of kangaroos in the corner began playing "Shake, Señora". "I haven't hung out with you in ages."

            "I'm aware," said Imagination, pointing at my shelf of stuffed animals. They immediately jumped off their perch and snuggled down next to her. "Remember that time after we saw "E.T." and we flew our dirt bikes over the Grand Canyon?"

            "Yeah, and remember the time when I was 10 and we became invisible and ran around causing trouble?" I added.

            Imagination laughed and the room started to melt away. "I don't know why we don't do this more often," she smiled.

            "There's a perfectly good reason for that!" came another voice at my door. The room came back and the plaid rug suddenly flashed red, then did a peppermint stick sort of stripe as another me walked in the door dressed in very conservatively in slacks and a dress shirt, followed by another in my favorite sweatshirt and jeans.

            "Damn!" said Imagination. "Reason and Conscience!"

            "You don't need to be flitting off dreaming about ridiculous nonsense with her!" said Reason, pointing an accusing finger at Imagination.

            "Listen to Reason, Daina," said my Conscience, piping up behind my overbearing Reason.

            "Aren't the two of you supposed to be on a guilt trip to Skipping Class?" Imagination demanded.

            "That was you two?" I asked.

            "We're back to keep her from running off with you," replied Reason, ignoring me.

            "Big mistake, Daina," said my Conscience, sitting down in my papasan chair. "You know what she does to your Concentration."

            "Oh, lay off already," I said, irritated.

            "Yeah, everytime we wanna hang out, you start in on what a bad influence I am." said Imagination indignantly.

            "Well, if you would just keep Daina focused on something more important than that story writing..." began Reason.

            "Like?" I demanded.

            "Like a college education?"

            "She's right, y'know," my Conscience added.

            "Will you shut up?" I snapped. "The both of you are starting to sound more and more like Reality everyday!" There was a groan at my doorway and I sighed. "Speak of the devil."

            We all looked up and found another me standing in the doorway looking like death warmed over wearing one of my plaid jumpers. "Jee-zus, Dain, what the hell did you do to me?" she moaned, hands over her eyes as she staggered in.

            "My dad gave me Nyquil for my cold."

            "I think it's better if you just let your cold go without taking medication," began Reason. "You know how it affects Reality."

            "She's right, y'know," my Conscience said.

            Reality stared at her, then walked over and lightly slapped Conscience in the face with the back of her hand. "Shut up, okay? Thanks." Conscience nodded meekly.

            Reality looked around the room, frowning in confusion. "What the hell happened to this room?" I looked at Imagination, who was frantically signalling to me not to say anything. Reality spun around, then saw Imagination sitting on my desk. The stuffed animals around her squeaked in terror, then leaped back onto the shelf, while the kangaroos stopped noisily in mid-note and disappeared.

            "You," said Reality to Imagination. "Outta here."

            Imagination swallowed hard and looked to me for support. I shrugged as if to say "yer on yer own, kid". I don't deal very well with Reality. "But..." Imagination began.

            "Out!"

            "You know where to find me," said Imagination to me, then she disappeared. The room colors went back to normal. Reality began rolling up one of her shirt sleeves while Reason and Conscience watched intently.

            "Hey, don't you two have a guilt trip you're supposed to be on?" Reality asked.

            "She's..." began my Conscience.

            "I know, I know!" snapped Reason, storming out of the room. Conscience was not slow to follow.

            Reality looked back at me and I swallowed hard. "Isn't there some other way we can get back together, here?" I asked, as she cracked her knuckles. She shook her head.

            "Sorry," she said, "but it's always hard getting back in the saddle," she said, drawing her fist back and aiming at my face...

 

 

            "Daina! Daina, Dad wants to know how you're feeling! You asleep?" my brother was yelling in my ear. I sat up on my bed in shock, then looked desperately at him.

            "Yeah," I said slowly, "I think so. I was about to let my Imagination run away with me and we were gonna go jump the Grand Canyon with E.T., but we were stopped by the voice of Reason and my Conscience was bugging everybody, but I finally got hit by Reality and now...now I'm okay, see?"

            My brother stared at me for a few seconds while I grinned goofily at him. He finally turned around, yelling, "Forget it, Dad, she's still circlin' the airport."

            In the distance, I heard my father say, "She'll feel better after the Nyquil kicks in. Just let her alone."

            After it kicks in???

            I flopped back onto the bed, mentally deciding to talk to Mom about cold remedies the next time I got sick.

 

 

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