Charlie found me there a half hour later； lying on the floor； my
cheek pressed against the
cold edge of the bathtub。
He looked at me for a long moment。
〃Stomach flu；〃 he finally said。
〃Yes；〃 I moaned。
〃You need something？〃 he asked。
〃Call the Newtons for me； please；〃 I instructed hoarsely。 〃Tell them I have
what Mike has； and that I
can't make it in today。 Tell them I'm sorry。〃
〃Sure； no problem；〃 Charlie assured me。
I spent the rest of the day on the bathroom floor； sleeping for a few hours
with my head on a crumpled
up towel。 Charlie claimed that he had to work； but I suspected that he just
wanted access to a bathroom。
He left a glass of water on the floor beside me to keep me hydrated。
It woke me up when he came back home。 I could see that it was dark in my room
—after nightfall。 He
clumped up the stairs to check on me。
〃Stillalive？〃
〃Sort of；〃 I said。
〃Do you want anything？〃
〃No； thanks。〃
He hesitated； clearly out of his element。 〃Okay； then；〃 he said； and then he
went back down to the
kitchen。
I heard the phone ring a few minutes later。 Charlie spoke to someone in a low
voice for a moment； and
then hung up。
〃Mike feels better；〃 he called up to me。
Well； that was encouraging。 He'd only gotten sick eight hours or so before me。
Eight more hours。 The
thought made my stomach turn； and I pulled myself up to lean over the toilet。
I fell asleep on the towel again； but when I woke up I was in my bed and it
was light outside my window。
I didn't remember moving； Charlie must have carried me t