Virgo's Vice Read Free Page A

what’s wrong with me, but once I started on the Zoloft, I couldn’t do without it, and I have to keep seeing the shrink to get a prescription. Sometimes it doesn’t work and I take more than I’m supposed to. I have to. I couldn’t handle life without it.
    Then the hand tremors started and my shrink told me it’s a side effect and they could be permanent. That scared me even more. I tried to go off the meds but I kept having panic attacks. I call them my vice. But what could I do? I just had to keep taking it. I don’t want to end up with hands that shake like an old person’s.
    Every time I read my horoscope—I’m a Virgo—it said something about how I need to take control of my life and do something to change it. I tried to ignore it, but the same advice just kept coming up, even when I checked out multiple horoscope sites. I know in my heart of hearts that I am the only person who can heal me. That’s why I’m here, and now I think I must have been totally out of it when I made the decision not to bring any of my meds with me. Dumb, dumb, dumb! I guess I didn’t really appreciate how remote this place would be. I kind of thought I might be able to hitch a ride into the nearest town and see a doctor there and get a new prescription if I really couldn’t handle it.
    I’ll never know if it would have worked or not now. He’s spoiled it all. Again.
    I move up closer behind Mark. “This is all totally insane. I still can’t believe the Old Man pushed me like that. I’m still mad at him for doing that. I could have been killed. And what does three days really mean? Do they start today, or does he only start counting tomorrow?”
    We fall silent and I concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. It’s Sunday today so the Old Man could get here on Wednesday or would it be Thursday? Meantime, what does he expect me and Mark to do? He was so frikking secretive about it all. I guess he thought Mark and I would leak it to the press or something, so he didn’t tell us anything. As soon as he arrives I’m quitting and leaving this place. Maybe I should tell Mark about Trip—but then I would have to tell him about . . . it. My past. I can’t do that. I can’t ever tell anyone and Trip knows it.
    It’s getting hot and I’m beginning to sweat. The terrain is hilly and there are blue, hazy mountains in the distance. I notice sweat marks on the guys’ shirts. I remember then, that this is Africa and I check around me nervously. “Do you think there are any dangerous wild animals here? I saw some when I was up there.” I point to the sky.
    Mark doesn’t answer for a few seconds. “Nah. I don’t think that crazy old man would have put us in that kind of danger. He’s got to know something about this area.”
    I’m not as confident as him, and I shudder.
    “We know from the airport where we landed that we’re in a country called Zimbabwe,” Mark continues.
    “I always thought Africa was just one big jungle, but it doesn’t feel as hot as I would have thought.”
    “Apparently although it’s tropical, it’s cooler here because we’re close to the mountains,” Mark says. “There shouldn’t be too many bugs at the moment because it’s fall, and they’ll been gone during winter. It even gets frosty up here because it’s high in elevation.”
    “And you know this how?”
    “I did some reading up on the Internet.”
    Mark always seems to know everything. It’s weird that this is fall. April is in the springtime at home.
    Trip stops and turns to face us. “Look,” he says, “why don’t we separate and each of us go and check in a different direction? We have more chance of finding the bags that way.”
    Go out there alone? In the African wilderness? Not me. Not even with Jake by my side. “I have a better idea,” I say. “Why don’t we go get some of the others to help?”
    “Okay,” Trip says. “Go and call them.” He starts walking again.
    Mark gives me the look. I stare