The Bell Jar - nubuk.com

A thick white china cup was lowered under my nose. In the wan light that might
have been evening and might have been dawn I contemplated the clean amber liquid.
Pads of butter floated on the surface and a faint chickeny aroma fumed up to my nostrils.
My eyes moved tentatively to the skirt behind the cup. "Betsy," I said.
"Betsy nothing, it's me."
I raised my eyes then, and saw Doreen's head silhouetted against the paling
window, her blonde hair lit at the tips from behind like a halo of gold. Her face was in
shadow, so I couldn't make out her expression, but I felt a sort of expert tenderness
flowing from the ends of her fingers. She might have been Betsy or my mother or a fernscented
nurse.
I bent my head and took a sip of the broth. I thought my mouth must be made of
sand. I took another sip and then another and another until the cup was empty.
I felt purged and holy and ready for a new life.
Doreen set the cup on the windowsill and lowered herself into the armchair. I
noticed that she made no move to take out a cigarette, and as she was a chain smoker this
surprised me.
"Well, you almost died," she said finally.
"I guess it was all that caviar."
"Caviar nothing! It was the crabmeat. They did tests on it and it was chock-full of
ptomaine."
I had a vision of the celestially white kitchens of Ladies' Day stretching into
infinity. I saw avocado pear after avocado pear being stuffed with crabmeat and
mayonnaise and photographed under brilliant lights. I saw the delicate, pink-mottled claw
meat poking seductively through its blanket of mayonnaise and the bland yellow pear cup
with its rim of alligator-green cradling the whole mess.
Poison.
"Who did tests?" I thought the doctor might have pumped somebody's stomach
and then analyzed what he found in his hotel laboratory.
"Those dodos on Ladies' Day. As soon as you all started keeling over like
ninepins somebody called into the office and the office called across to Ladies' Day and
they did tests on everything left over from the big lunch. Ha!"
"Ha!" I echoed hollowly. It was good to have Doreen back.
"They sent presents," she added. "They're in a big carton out in the hall."
"How did they get here so fast?"
"Special express delivery, what do you think? They can't afford to have the lot of
you running around saying you got poisoned at Ladies' Day. You could sue them for
every penny they own if you just knew some smart law man."
"What are the presents?" I began to feel if it was a good enough present I wouldn't
mind about what happened, because I felt so pure as a result.
"Nobody's opened the box yet, they're all out flat. I'm supposed to be carting soup
in to everybody, seeing as I'm the only one on my feet, but I brought you yours first."
"See what the present is," I begged. Then I remembered and said, "I've a present
for you as well."
Doreen went out into the hall. I could hear her rustling around for a minute and
then the sound of paper tearing. Finally she came back carrying a thick book with a
glossy cover and people's names printed all over it.