The Fall of Never(4)

“Coffee, dear?” the old woman offered, easing her chair to a stop in front of Kelly.

“No thank you, Nellie.”

“It’ll warm you.”

“I’m warm.”

“Are you all right?”

Smiling, Kelly looked up from her notebook. “I’m fine.” And thought: Do I really look that bad today? “How are you feeling, Nellie?”

“Oh,” said the woman, “I’m getting by. These winters now…make my bones ache. And I’ve been having these headaches, just these really bad ones. They come and go.”

“Has Doctor Jennasyn been to see you lately?”

“He was here not two weeks ago,” Nellie said. She was trying to crane her neck around to watch Josh set up the camcorder on its tripod. “Gave me some pills for my arthritis.”

“And the headaches?”

“Wasn’t having the headaches then,” Nellie said. “Just started up past couple days. They’ll pass eventually. Everything does, after a while.”

Josh straightened up, slipped off his leather coat, and said, “I’m all set, Kell. Where do you want me set up?”

“We’ll start with some kitchen shots,” Kelly told him. “Is that all right with you, Nellie?”

“Fine, fine,” the woman said, waving a hand. “Should have come sooner, filmed me making the coffee. I can put on some English muffins, if you two’ll eat them. I don’t mind making food long as it’s not wasted.” She managed to bring the wheelchair around and directed it toward the kitchen. The motorization made her entire body vibrate and she looked like a wooden puppet from the back.

“I’m staying out of the shots today, Nellie,” Kelly told the woman. “I’m going to be with Josh behind the camera. I’ve written some narration in this notebook. I’m just going to recite it to myself while Josh films, make sure we’ve got enough useable footage.”

“That’s fine, dear.”

“English muffins would be great, Nellie,” Josh said, rubbing the palms of his hands together. He lifted the tripod and camera and set them directly across from the kitchen vestibule, peered through the lens, and panned back until he was able to see most of the kitchen through the blue-tinted viewfinder.

“We got enough tape?” Kelly asked him.

“Quit worrying about my job,” he barked with some humor, not taking his eye from the eyepiece. “Do me a favor, Kell, and go stand in front of the camera for a sec. I want to get a height ratio here…”

“You nearly ran out of film last time,” she told him, moving into the kitchen and standing in front of the camera. Her eyes were down, still scrutinizing her notes. “Someone needs to keep an eye on you.”

“Worry-worry-worry,” Josh snickered. “Nellie, you think our girl Kelly here is going to worry herself to an early death?”

“Worries me,” Nellie said, unwrapping the English muffins. Then to Kelly: “You don’t look so good, dear.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, looking up. “I don’t understand why everyone keeps interfering with—”

She froze, staring straight ahead at the eye of the camera…staring at the blinking red RECORD light just above the lens. Too occupied with her muffins, Nellie did not notice the frozen expression on Kelly’s face. Josh, still standing behind the camera and peering through the lens, did.

“Kell? Kelly? Command Center to Agent Kelly Rich…”

She snapped her head away from the blinking red light. “What?” she blurted, temporarily disoriented. “What is it?”

“You’re phasing out on me, kid,” Josh said, peeking at her from around the side of the camera. “A bit camera shy? You did fine the other day.”

“No, I’m just…” She brought a hand up to her forehead, rubbed her brow. “I guess I didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

“You up for this?”

“Yeah, I’ll be okay.”

“You’re the boss,” he said, and stepped back behind the camera. “Now get your mug out of the frame, country girl.”

Kelly sidestepped the tripod and moved into the hallway. She cleared some books off a small wooden chair and sat down, her mind still reeling. Looking down, she saw the knees of her jeans were damp from where she’d rested her hands. Her palms were moist with sweat and she rubbed them together like an Eskimo trying to keep warm.

I don’t know what a nervous breakdown feels like, she thought, but if I had to guess, I’d say it feels very much like this.

The last time she’d felt this way was years ago, back with Collin in the months before their separation. They’d taken turns, it seemed then, struggling with the reality of their incompatibility…with Collin’s infidelity and her neuroses…until the foundation of their impromptu marriage could do nothing but give in and fall away beneath them. And before Collin, the last time she’d felt this unstable and paralyzed had been…Christ, it had been such a goddamn long time ago she couldn’t even remember…

Maybe I should have just taken the day off after all, she thought. This wasn’t such a good idea. I feel lousy. I feel like I’m psychic, and I know I’m going to get creamed by a taxi on my way home tonight.