13 Stories

Insulin

In the living room of his suburban home, John Mitchell told the delicate babysitter that he would be back to take her home at midnight.

      “My parents expect that, Mr. Mitchell.”

      The sitter entered the den, and two boys immediately threw attention, games, and ideas at her. The television became insignificant. Boys love an attractive, bright babysitter. Accidental brushings against her could stir emotions, especially if their mother lived an estranged life in another state.

By finger prick and a glucose monitor, Mr. Mitchell had tested his blood sugar. He walked to the refrigerator, put his glasses on the adjacent counter, removed the cold syringe of Regular insulin, and injected fifteen extra units of the clear liquid into his waist. This shot of insulin would reduce his blood glucose to the normal range. He looked forward to an evening date without lethargy. Like any other thirty-eight-year-old ex-tennis champion, he would have proper energy and function. A certified public accountant bringing up two boys, he was left with little time to establish a sex life.

First Date

“Maxine Puck. Call the penthouse. Essok here.”

Essok rested his arms on the marble counter.

“Yes, sir.”

The night desk clerk started talking into a black microphone hanging in front of his lips. “A man with pilot’s helmet, goggles, scarf, and leather jacket, Miss Puck.

“Yes. She’ll be right down. Dark night, sir. Where might you be going?”

“The Island.”

“Way out, ha? People don’t always return.”

The lights flickered in the high-rise.

“Manhattan, sir. The building is up to code. We have wavering lights at different times of day.”

Essok moved to a plate glass window. It disintegrated and fell into a long pile, as if a hockey puck shattered it. It dropped like a woman’s slip. He turned.

“We can’t explain it, sir.”

Maxine’s eyesight pierced him from the elevator, like laser light. She was known for her energy. The singles world talked about her. In the spa pool, she dropped the water level by a foot. The cause was not a personal power pack, because she dived nude. The evaporation was not from her flipper motion either, because she pierced the water like a barracuda. She bounced blindly off underwater tile walls.