Chapter Five

Chapter Five

You might not have thought that Amber and Tang Wurlitzer had a lot in common, but Tang didn’t see it that way. She had all these problems with people and things: advertisements, supermarket chickens, news programs, history, politics, prisons. But Tang never had a problem with anyone: it was his job not to have a problem with people. He was a talk-show host, one of the best in his estimation. You might have seen him: well-dressed, creamy, full of laughs, a thoroughly nice guy. Networks compete for his talk-show services. TW was always on the look-out for new guests, and novelty guests were his specialty. Anything unusual, preferably polarizing. His ratings were consistently high. Well, his producers had come across this weird girl with a funny tummy, name of Amber. Tang felt this was a concept he could work with. He arranged to speak with her personally by phone. He assured her and her parents that nausea control was his number one priority; she was safe with him. “This is an opportunity to use your gift for good,” he explained, relishing the last three words. “Folks should see that someone feels deeply about right and wrong in today’s world. And I can offer you a substantial reward for your participation, which I’m sure will help with your medical bills and other necessities.” Oh, he could be persuasive, Tang Wurlitzer, most persuasive. He had once persuaded a man with two left feet to take his shoes and socks off on public television (a high point in the history of the show). It was a matter of pride, he argued, to show that two left feet were nothing to be ashamed of—and he was nothing if not shameless. At first, they were against it, but as Tang talked on, they softened and eventually came round (those medical bills and other necessities). Why not monetize Amber’s gift? And wouldn’t it be a good thing to inspire people? Perhaps she had been put on Earth to fulfill a divine purpose—sort of a freaky bilious Jesus. Mr. Wurlitzer seemed like a nice sincere man with a good reputation—what harm could it do? So, they agreed to the proposal, then and there.

And so, she found herself, at age ten, ready to go out in front of 16 million people to talk about her queasy belly, her allergy to evil. As a precaution, she had taken a modest lunch and avoided anything triggering. Mr. Wurlitzer had been very upbeat about the whole thing, telling her that being on television was much easier than it looks. You just had to smile at a camera and act like you were in your own living room. At the appointed time she was ushered onto the stage to spread the good word (his phrase). “This is Amber,” he began, “a very special child. She is here today to tell us about a very special gift she has, or some would say problem—aren’t you, Amber?” “Yes,” said Amber warily. “And what is that gift, or problem, you have, Amber?” “I feel sick when people do certain things.” “And what kind of things are we talking about?” “Lots of things—I don’t like saying what they are”. “I hear you once barfed when you saw one boy bullying another—is that correct?” “Yes, that did happen.” “And I’ve heard that your own father can make you queasy sometimes. Hey, my old man could be a pain at times”. He smiled good-naturedly, showing TV-ready teeth. She replied, “It’s just a feeling I get, I don’t think anything. It just happens. I suppose it’s like smelling something bad.” Cocking his head, Tang said, “And are you ever wrong?” “Not that I know of,” she replied. “Well, isn’t that something, ladies and gentlemen? This girl can spot a bad apple infallibly. She can see into your soul. When we come back, we’ll delve into this further. It sounds spooky, even miraculous.” They went to commercial break. Tang said in his quiet concerned voice: “This is going great, Amber, but we need something less wordy, more real. How about we put on a show of you throwing up? Seeing is believing. How about I pretend to be bad and you do your thing? It would make great television.” “It won’t work if you pretend. I can’t do it at will.” Amber felt a pulse of nausea as she said these words. Tang looked thoughtful. They resumed the on-air conversation. “You know, some people might be skeptical of what you’re saying—it does seem a tad farfetched. How do we know you are telling the truth? People say a lot weird things to make a buck. What do you say to the unbelievers?” Amber sat very still as the waves of nausea came over her. What to do? She leaned forward and buried her face in Tang Wurlitzer’s expensive suit and released a fountain of blue bile. When she looked up, she could see him smiling broadly—great television! It was for real and he’d got the scoop. It would easy to get the suit dry-cleaned. “I was only kidding,” he said. “I didn’t really think you were lying, but it was the only way to get the proof our audience deserves.” Amber felt ambushed and confused—she was only ten, remember. “When we come back a man who would rather go on vacation with his dog than his wife. Thank you, Amber, for coming on the show. Now we know you are the real deal.”