Eerie, Indiana triple drabble: Sickbed

[froodle]

Marshall eyed the tall glass dubiously. The liquid inside was the palest green, and as he watched a thick white foam rose to the surface, hissing and fizzing and threatening to spill over the rim.

"What is it?" he croaked.

His grandmother set the tumbler down before answering, positioning it safely between the lamp shaped like an over-sized Giants football helmet and a neatly stacked pile of black and white composition books.

"Lime juice and baking soda," she said. "Mixed with freshly boiled water and then allowed to cool, though you should drink it while it's warm for best effects."

Marshall made a face. Lillian noticed, and made one back.

"It'll do you good," she said, smoothing the rumpled coverlet over her grandson's legs. She made as if to sit on the side of his bed, glanced at the newly-rinsed mixing bowl that still smelled slightly of sick despite repeated dunkings beneath the kitchen tap, and dragged the computer chair over instead.

Marshall shook his head. His hair was dark with sweat, sticking to his face, and his lips were pressed tight together, a thin line against the next incursion of half-digested woodland critters all over his just-washed New York Giants bedspread.

"Honestly," said Lillian. "You'll drink whipped cream and chicken blood to prevent yourself turning into a werewolf, but you kick up a fuss over a simple home brew when it fails and you get an upset stomach from eating something you shouldn't during a full moon."

"I think it was a squirrel," said Marshall, his tone miserable. "There were chunks of tail. Kind of...bobbing on the surface."

"Oh, sweetheart," said Lillian, locating one of his clammy, furry-palmed hands under the duvet and giving it a squeeze.

Marshall sighed and levered himself a little more upright.

"Lime juice, huh?" he said, reaching for the glass.

"And baking soda," Lillian said, scooting the wheeled desk chair back a little, out of the splash zone.



Teller Family History

First Date by froodle, in which a young Edgar Teller shows off one of his earlier inventions

Popcorn by froodle. Friday night is always movie night in the Teller household.

The Teller Home for Displaced Youth by froodle, in which Edgar harbours some doubts about his new home town

Lawn by froodle, in which Marilyn Teller contemplaces some yardwork

Tornado Day, Revisited by froodle, in which Syndi learns exactly what it means to be Miss Tornado Day

Wildlife by froodle, in which Simon and Marshall go to the beach

Culinary Delights by froodle, in which Syndi's terrible cooking may or may not have been an accident

Camping by froodle, in which Syndi cannot sleep

Artist in the Family by froodle, in which an immortal creature takes a liking to Syndi

Without Due Care and Attention by froodle, in which Syndi finally becomes mobile

Waiting In by froodle, in which there is an ice-storm and a handyman does not arrive

Brunch by froodle, in which Marilyn does not appreciate Edgar's help in the kitchen

Handmade by froodle, in which the Tellers receive a Christmas package from Marilyn's mother

Poor Life Choices by froodle, in which Syndi loves her brother anyway

Lillian by froodle, in which Marilyn's mother has concerns

Visitor by froodle, in which Marshall's grandma comes to stay

Nap by froodle, in which Marshall has a quiet moment in the Secret Spot

Fresh Sheets by froodle

Tradition by froodle, in which Dash and Marshall decorate a Christmas tree

Hometown by froodle, in which Mars and Syndi visit New Jersey

Comments

[deifire]

Awww, poor Marshall, but what a great grandma!

[froodle]

She knows the cure for what ails him. Or the palliative, anyway

[friendof_dorothy]

me, reading the first part: aww, Mars :-(
me, reading the bit about the squirrel: Ewwwwww, Mars.

[froodle]

I know, poor Mars. But also the poor squirrel.

[evilinsanemonkey]

awww poor mars.

I love Lillian!

[froodle]

He's having a bad day!