Liz Marvin - Betty Crawford 03 - Too Long at the Fair by Liz Marvin Page B

Betty gave the girl a gentle shake.  She wiped her nose on the back of her sleeve and nodded affirmative. 
     
    Betty kissed her on the cheek “Thank you!” She whispered as they parted. 
     
    Achmed was laid out on his back, his legs and arms splayed out, hanging off the table.  His head rocked back and forth as he babbled. “Tell Saddam not to eat. No don’t let him eat.  I didn’t cook this he has to know I didn’t make it.  Hide me.  I have to hide. He won’t care he will kill us all.  We have to go.”
     
    Achmed struggled to push himself up and off the table and Betty arrived just in time to stop him and gently push him back down. “Mister O’Rielly!  Achmed you’re in Lofton North Carolina.  You’re just a little ill.  You’ll be all right.  Just lie down and rest.  You will be all right.”
     
    Achmed clutched her arms, squeezing hard. “You don’t understand.  You don’t!”  He collapsed and closed his eyes.  “The walls have ears and the wind has eyes.  They are everywhere.  They will hunt me down.” He opened his eyes, wild eyed, grasping at and batting away invisible things. 
     
    Betty struggled to hold him down.  She had heard he had worked in the kitchens of tyrants in the Middle East before the last round of wars and revolutions.  She knew he had escaped to travel the world and become a celebrity chef but she had no idea what horrors lay in his past and had never thought to ask.  She realized now she couldn’t begin to imagine them and he had never spoke of those dark times. 
     
    The very thought of his ghosts terrified her but Betty steeled herself and held on, keeping the sick man from hurting himself.  “The wars are over.  You are a famous chef with restaurants all over the world.  No one can hurt you.”
     
    He grabbed her again, wild eyed but holding her gaze.  “You don’t know.  I know them. They never quit. Never stop. Never forgive and never forget.  I have to kill them. I have to or they will kill me. They will kill us all.”
     
    He collapsed, barely conscious, his mumblings dropping to an incoherent whisper.  Was he right?  Betty, stunned, had to consider that perhaps, just maybe someone was trying to kill him.  Were all these people just collateral damage?  Who but a monster – or monsters – could do such awful horrible things?
     
    She spied the young girl kneeling under a nearby table, labeling food and writing notes on a tablet. 
     
    “What’s your name?”
     
    “Virginia.  Everybody calls me Ginny.”
     
    “Ginny you’re doing a great job. Be careful not to taste any of this food.”
     
    She stopped writing.  “Why?”
     
    “Because it may not be safe.  I’m probably just being silly but will you do that for me? “
     
    The young girl nodded and went back to work. 
     
    Betty checked Achmed’s pulse.  His heartbeat was rapid and shallow but she had no idea what it meant or what to do.  She moved to the next table. Thelma was there and if anything was in even worse condition than Achmed.
     
    “Thelma!”  The older woman smiled weakly at Betty. “Twice in two days.  I’m afraid someone really is trying to destroy the fair.”  She coughed, and rolled to her side and tried to vomit but there was nothing left in her frail system.  She rolled back onto her back and looked Betty in the eye. “You’ll be the only judge this year, Betty.” 
     
    “Oh no.  We’ll postpone the contest.”
     
    Thelma shook her head. “Not again. No. You can’t let them win.  You have to choose.  You must pick this year’s winner.”
     
    “But I can’t! I haven’t tasted everything.  I haven’t tasted anything.”  Betty dropped her voice to a whisper and leaned over Thelma.  “I am not sure all the food is safe.”
     
    Thelma laughed then dissolved again into a coughing fit.  Betty did her best to hold her.  “You’re right, Betty.  The food isn’t safe.  None of it.”  Thelma looked Betty in the