What Would Emma Do? by Eileen Cook

descended from a monkey. Susan fell into the aisle about three-quarters of the way through the lecture, when he was just gearing up for his big finish, where he hoots like an orangutan.
    Carol Lang, Paula Swan, and Jennifer Furby all passed out in the cafeteria over lunch. At first there was some brief discussion that it might have been due to some type of sauerkraut foodborne illness, but no one really believed that was the case. As far as all of Wheaton was concerned, someone was targeting the popular girls.
    When Tessa Townston collapsed in biology at approximately twelve forty-five p.m., dragging her Mendel’s pea plant experiment to the floor with her, parents started to show up at the school to get their kids. At two o’clock the school sent us all home.
    By six o’clock it made the local news in Fort Wayne.
    “Do you have the TV on?” Colin asked as soon as I picked up the phone.
    “I’m stretching. I’m going out for a run right now.”
    “Give it a break, Speed Racer, and turn on the TV. Wheaton’s hit the big time.”
    “Wheaton?”
    “Call me after.” Colin clicked off, and I turned on the TV. The anchor, a woman in a blistering bright red dress and perfect hair, was seated at the news desk, a photo of TES behind her.
    “Tonight, a story out of Wheaton. More than half a dozen young girls have been stricken with a mysterious illness over the past three days, with five girls falling ill today alone. Local hospital staff declined to comment, but the family physician of one girl indicated that there is suspicion of foul play.
    “All the girls have regained consciousness and are undergoing further medical testing. The afflicted girls attend Trinity Evangelical Secondary School, which closed early today to allow the remainder of the student body to go home. School officials were unwilling to comment on whether the school will reopen tomorrow. Police stated that the investigation was ongoing, but it appears as if someone is deliberately making the girls sick.” The anchor-woman shook her head slowly, as if she were reporting on a tragedy of tsunami-type proportions.
    “You have to wonder if there’s any place our kids are safe today,” the male co-anchor chimed in. “When small-town America’s in the crosshairs, then it’s a sad day for every town.” He shook his head in tandem with the woman anchor. They looked grim and serious. Suddenly her head popped up with a huge smile.
    “Now a story from our series on Nutty Neighbors! We’re profiling a fellow in the Franke Park area who is such a Wizards fan, he’s painted his house in the baseball team’s colors, complete with a giant mural of the mascot on the garage door!”
    I clicked off the TV and grabbed the phone.
    “I don’t believe it,” I said when Colin picked up.
    “I know. Who would paint his house like that? The blue and green is one thing, but the silver trim?”
    “Ha ha. Seriously, I can’t believe it made the news. And what’s with everyone getting sick all of a sudden? There’s nothing wrong with anyone. Aren’t there real events happening in the world that the news should be paying attention to? War? Environmental issues?”
    “Some natural disaster somewhere?”
    “Exactly.” I pulled on my ponytail while I thought it over. “Maybe we should talk to someone. Tell them what we saw that night.”
    “What about Joann?”
    “We could explain to her that nothing was going on, that I just had to get out of my house. I mean, it’s the truth.”
    “And we just forgot to mention it until now?”
    I stood and paced the living room. I had too much energy to sit still.
    “There was nothing to mention. I mean, you guys seem to be doing better than ever.”
    “What does that mean?”
    “It doesn’t mean anything. Just that you guys seem like things are going well.”
    “What do you want from me? You were crystal clear, you’re not interested.”
    I sighed. Is there anything worse than having someone throw your own words