“I got stomach cramps,” Connie said. “And I threw up. I don’t think the ice cream agreed with me.”

“If something made you sick it was probably the pizza,” Yuri said. “Personally, anchovies always do a number on my stomach.”

“But it’s not my stomach that concerns me.”

“What is it then?” Yuri questioned impatiently.

“I can’t watch the TV,” Connie said, having particular difficulty pronouncing the letter T. “I’m seeing double. There’re two TV sets.”

“Then turn it off,” Yuri said. “Go to sleep. It’s late.”

“I can’t sleep,” Connie said. “I’m all jazzed up for some reason and it scares me to see double.”

“Try covering your swollen eye,” Yuri suggested.

Connie reached up with her hand.

“What’s it like now?” Yuri asked.

“It’s better,” Connie agreed. “There’s only one TV set.”

“Call me if there are any more problems,” Yuri said. He began to back out the door.

“There is another problem,” Connie said, slurring her words. “I’m thirsty. My throat is as dry as a bone.”

“Well, get yourself some water,” Yuri said. He started to close the door.

“I’m afraid to get up!” Connie called. “When I got up earlier I was dizzy and weak. I almost fell over.”

“With all that fat it’s no wonder,” Yuri said.

“Please, get me some water.”

Yuri wondered if the thirst had anything to do with the toxin. He didn’t know. But he was certain the double vision did, and the difficulty in speaking. What was worrying him was the vomiting. It would be tragically ironic if she threw up most of the poison because he’d used too much. But then again, the nausea could be coming from a bolus of the toxin having been absorbed. Yuri didn’t know too much about botulism except with mice, rats, dogs, and monkeys.

“All right, I’ll get you some water.”

“Maybe I should go to the hospital,” Connie said without pronouncing the “H” at all.

“What? For some stomach cramps? Don’t be ridiculous!”

“I’m scared. I feel strange.”

“I’ll get the water,” Yuri said. He closed the door and walked into the kitchen. The whole affair was more nerve-racking than he’d anticipated. If a doctor saw her now they might make the diagnosis. While he was filling a glass under the faucet at the sink, a sudden, loud knocking reverberated against the front door. The unexpected sound made him jump from a type of fear only someone who’d been forced to live under a despotic, totalitarian government would understand. His own throat went dry. He took a quick sip of water, steadying the glass with both hands.