Side Effects May Vary

I turned to find Alice standing in front of me, holding out a stack of folded-up pieces of paper wrapped in twine. She wore a black leotard with a little black dance skirt—the kind you could see through—and black tights.

When I didn’t take them, she pressed the stack into my hand. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”

“Working,” I said, weighing the papers. Each page looked to have been unevenly ripped out of a notebook. The only marking I could see was the number one written with pencil on the first paper.

“Call in sick. You know Dennis will cover for you if you ask him to.”

I shook my head, my nostrils flaring. “You’ve got to be shitting me. I’m not doing this anymore, Al. I told you. This isn’t happen—”

“Harvey,” she said, reaching up and cupping my face in her hands like she’d done so many times before.

The feel of her skin against mine silenced me.

“I haven’t given you any reason to, but trust me. Trust me this one last time and expect better of me than I deserve. Last time, I swear.”

I opened my mouth. I felt myself slipping away and without anything to hold on to.

“Tomorrow,” she said, “wait until late afternoon. Like, three. The pages are numbered. Read them in order and don’t read the next one until you’ve completed the task before it.”

Falling into this pattern—her telling me what, when, and how—felt sickeningly familiar. “Do you need me to pick you up?”

She shook her head. “No. This is for you to do alone.”

Harvey. Now.

I almost tore apart the whole stack of papers the second I got home, but I stopped myself. I wouldn’t let myself get excited, and if I didn’t open the notes early, I could convince myself that this didn’t matter to me. Sleep felt impossible and when it came it was short-lived. When I woke, the stack of papers taunted me.

By noon, I nearly gave in. I slid the first note out from the pile.

No. I couldn’t do it. I’d waited this long. I could stand a few more hours.

Like Alice had told me to, I called in sick to work. I watched the clock and prayed for three p.m. When that didn’t work, I watched a few hours of daytime television. Which was embarrassingly enjoyable.

Three o’clock finally came.

I unfolded the first paper, nearly ripping it in half.

harvey,

follow these directions to Alton. once you reach your destination, unfold the next paper.

—al

Directions without reasons. Of course.

Alton was about forty-five minutes north of us. I stopped for gas and drove. My mind was too busy for the radio, so I rolled the windows down and soaked in the early summer heat. Maybe Alice would be meeting me in Alton. I couldn’t figure out how she would get there without me to drive her.

My foot weighed a little heavier on the gas pedal, but I didn’t care. I was too anxious.

When I arrived in Alton, I found it was much like Hughley. Small businesses, a few big chain stores on the outskirts of town, and mostly two-lane roads. I’d never been here, but knew that our teams played their teams all the time and that Bernie always said they had the best shopping. But, really, there was nothing special about Alton, so for Alice to have wanted me to come here made no sense.

I followed her handwritten directions to a small parking lot full of empty storefronts. At the end of the strip mall was a narrow little place called Oscar’s. The windows were heavily tinted and there was no OPEN sign. Above the door were decals that spelled out SUITE 667. I checked Alice’s directions, and cut across the parking lot, sliding into a spot right up front. My Geo was one of three cars.

After turning off the ignition, I opened the piece of paper labeled with the number two and held my breath.

go inside.

Exhaling, I crumpled the piece of paper and threw it into the backseat. I shoved the rest of the notes in my pocket and went in, hoping there wouldn’t be anyone checking IDs.

Inside, a haze of smoke hung to the ceiling, and it took me a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. The only employee seemed to be an old lady behind the bar with a name tag that read BETH. Diamond-patterned hunter-green wallpaper covered the walls, peeling at the corners. The bar where Beth stood was at the back of the room. Lining the walls were high-back booths the same color as the wallpaper. Tables and chairs peppered what little floor was left.

Before deciding where to sit, I reached for the next note.

welcome to Oscar’s. sit down at the bar and order a drink. supposedly they have really good gin and tonics. TRUST ME.

I sat at the bar, in the stool farthest from Beth with her big red hair and white roots. My hands were sweating. I was going to get arrested. I was totally going to get arrested for underage drinking or, like, attempting to drink while underage.

Beth slid a coaster to me and strolled down the length of the bar.