Page 11 of The Dire Legacy

“Don’t worry boys, I’m playing nice today.” If I had hair to toss, I’d swirl my head in the way the girls did in the old movies.They keep me bald, so swishing my hips in bare feet is the best I can do.

Heavy steel security doors impede my march. One of the wire laced windows has a piece of metal bolted over it.

Forty-three. And a wrist with an elbow. They had to break after forty-three hits before I could reach through the gap.

What number was that? I’ve lost count.

The failed attempts just keep breeding, growing and adding layers like an onion. A pearl. Yes, I’m an oyster, one after another. Each one more valuable than the last.

Ah, the doors spread like wings into my sanctum. My throne awaits. I am their idol, reveling in their worship.

I detest their covetous nature. There are days I wish I could withhold my virtues.

But, they’re taken. Stolen. Cut and sliced, pried and snipped.

Like the vultures they are, they hover in the wings. Eyes wide as they watch my hands.

“Oh, Roger. Is today for you?” I’d recognize him through his surgeon’s smock just by his size. The dark patch that covers the side of his face is the latest benevolent gift I’ve bestowed.

Funny how his shoulders jerk when he takes a step backwards. It’s almost like I was clawing at him again.

Silly, I’m across the room.

“This will be it for a while, Hope. After we’re done, you’ll get a few days off.” Dr. Falen isn’t very big, either. Her narrow brown eyes don’t match the deep southern drawl of her words.

“Like, a real vacation? Can I go to the beach? Get my hair done?” The harness around my waist jingles as I bounce up and down.

Too bad it isn’t just her and I. I’ve kept track of our every visit. One day, when we’re alone, I’ll help her remember them all.

“Not exactly. But, you might get to see the beach. You’re being transferred to Los Angeles early next week.” She deftly threadsthe chains into the locks on either side of the upright gurney. No, my magical perch. Where they spread me like a phoenix to pluck their feathers.

I’m used to the pinch as the tube with the liquid food is plunged into my elbow. Such a minor twinge, I don’t even glance.

It’s beneath me. That’s it.

The room shifts as the ceiling rolls into view. There are sixty-four tiles on it. Twelve lights. Six cabinets hover below the edge.

I don’t need to count them again. It’s boring. I want to count my heartbeats today. If I really concentrate, can I make it stop?

A heavy velcro strap snugs against my forehead, and I hear the familiar ripping sound as they fasten my legs.

“Eighteen cc’s.” Dr. Falen’s voice drifts across me, but she’s imaginary. The unseen. She’ll be back.

“We can do twenty, doctor.” A deep male voice is on the other side of me. It’s the drug side. The useless side.

Isn’t that sweet?

“Roger, I didn’t think you cared? This must be how kids go a-courtin’ nowadays?” I nail the southern drawl. “Letting me sit on your face and then beggin’ to drug me up? Who knew you were such a romantic?”

A silver glint moves into sight and is followed by Dr. Falen’s masked face. “Hope, maybe this means your heart grew back even larger?” She raises a slim black eyebrow as small crinkles appear in the corners of her eyes.

What a bitch.

Warmth rolls through my body and a heavy feeling settles in my limbs. Good.

“Just hurry up while Roger pumps me full of his good stuff over there.” I’d turn my head to him if I could. “Pump me Roger! Give me all of it!” My voice rises as the silver glint blurs and her head starts to look fuzzy.

Her small gloved fingers press the lids of my eye apart and the sharp edge of a stainless steel scoop materializes from the hazy mess that is forming around me.

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