I Scream, You Scream by Watson Wendy Lyn

Author:Watson, Wendy Lyn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: NAL

chapter 15

The mini in MiniAmp suggested that the item was miniature. Relative to what, I couldn’t say. During the Battle of the Hearing Aid, Bree, Grandma Peachy, and I looked at devices as tiny as my pinkie nail, and the MiniAmp looked huge by comparison. In reality it was only about the size of a cheap plastic cigarette lighter, but when it was hanging off the side of my head, it seemed enormous. As I casually strolled across the floor of the Lady Shapers, I felt like a Flintstones character, with a brontosaurus bone swinging from my ear.

As expected, the Furies—JoAnne Simms, Jackie Conway, and Trish Paolino—were lined up on a row of elliptical trainers, their legs churning and arms pumping in perfect sync with one another as they chatted, matching bottles of neon green Vigor in their cup holders. Until I walked in, they had the place to themselves. Simultaneously, without breaking stride, they fell silent and pivoted their heads to watch me enter. I threw them a nonchalant little wave and headed for the piece of equipment farthest away from them—a clunky, outdated cross-country ski machine.

I didn’t have a clue how to use the ski machine, but I needed to be far enough away that the three women would feel comfortable resuming their conversation. So I turned on the MiniAmp, flipped the switch to use the directional mic, and adjusted the mic from its front to its side orientation. Then I carefully clambered up onto the narrow wooden skids, trying to snug the toes of my cross-trainers into the cupped metal toe caps.

But as soon as I got one foot in place and shifted my weight to that leg, the pressure sent the ski sliding backward. With my weight balanced precariously on one leg, the unexpected movement pitched me forward, and I clotheslined myself across the metal railing wrapped around the front of the machine.

In my MiniAmped ear, I heard a chorus of chuckles and snorts.

I gathered my dignity as best I could and, with all the grace of a vaudevillian doing a pratfall, managed to heave myself into position on the ski machine. My legs shook, and the skis slid back and forth by fractions of an inch until I got my balance. Tentatively, I grabbed the simulated ski poles and began shuffling my feet forward and back. After a few hesitant repetitions, I found an awkward rhythm.

Once I felt sure I wouldn’t go flying off the back of the machine, I turned my attention to JoAnne, Jackie, and Trish.

Following Alice’s advice, I closed my eyes and began moving my mouth slightly, occasionally nodding, as though I were having a deep conversation with someone on my cell phone. I felt like a lunatic, but after a few beats of quiet, nothing but the faint squeak of one elliptical trainer and the soft whisper of their gym clothes rustling, my ruse paid off as the three women began to converse in stage whispers.

It took me a few seconds

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