The Price of Beauty

Chapter Four: Shock (II)

Getting off the road, she parked her car outside near a stack of hay. The countryside stretched for miles all around.

So they probably just dump the bodies anywhere and nobody finds them until years, she thought to herself and gave her a little shake. She had covered her face with a burgundy scarf that her mother had given her when she had been 12. It was close knit with two different types of stitches and smelled like a warm fireplace on Christmas.

Gathering it closer to her face, she made her way over the uneven ground to the huge rusty gates and pushed them apart. The interior contained…bales of hay, under a truss covered metal roof. She walked in further and the dust in the air arrested her nostrils. Serves me right, Nina thought, some folks are probably having a good laugh over this. Not that they have to live with hideous melting skin. She did not even feel any anger, but just a sense of incredible disappointment. A sense that she had reached the end of the road and now all she could do was accept her fate. Coughing a few times, she looked around and went further into the warehouse. There seemed to be nothing except more and more tied piles of drying straw, placed precariously one above the other.

“Hello, can I help you?”

Nina jumped out of her skin as she spun to locate the source of the voice. Her scarf dropped lower form her face. She saw amidst the hay, a woman sitting at a small wooden desk, wearing a purple uniform.

“Uh…,” Nina faltered. She noticed the woman’s lips twitch as she tried to contain her disgust at Nina’s face. She was good at it. She barely avoided eye contact.

“May I know your name?” the woman asked again with a smile.

“Nina Thorne,” Nina said. She moved a step closer to the desk. It was placed on a small wooden platform in the midst of high stacks on either side of it. Anyone paying a cursory glance would never have seen it unless they went to the far end of the warehouse.

“Hi, we’ve been expecting you.” The name card on her blouse read Janice. “Can you please show us the mail you received?”

“You mean, this?” Nina waved around the unnamed mail with no address.

“Yes,” Janice accepted it and made an entry in her iPad. “Please have a seat Miss. Thorne.” She took out a folding chair and placed it before the table. Coughing again from the musty air, Nina sat down before her. The surreal situation was far beyond her senses now. A uniformed receptionist in high heels in a straw warehouse in the middle of nowhere? She had known bigger shockers but this was just the oddest.

“Miss Throne, we’re an elite plastic surgery company. For security reasons I am not allowed to divulge the name of the doctor or of the clinic. The clinic began with the idea of a visionary trying to patent a revolutionary technique that would allow people afflicted with superficial physical deformities to avail the services of a world class cosmetic surgeon for low prices. We know that cosmetic surgery is not covered in most insurance plans hence people often look for cheaper alternatives, which turn out to be life threatening.”

Nina listened to the receptionist with growing distrust. The whole idea seemed too good to be true and she was sure she was being dragged into another ‘second hand’ clinic.

“I understand your trepidation, Miss Thorne,” Janice said, reading her face. “But the current procedure involves some technicalities that the surgeon would prefer to not be divulged lest his competitors in the field patent it and claim it as their own.”

“I’d like to know exactly how much it will cost me and where this clinic is. I hope it’s not this hay stack,” Nina chuckled motioning to the bale beside them. Janice gave a hard smile and handed Nina a thick set of papers. “Please take your time and read through them.” She returned to typing on her iPad.

Nina took a deep breath and read the rules. The name of the clinic and other related information had been redacted with a tape. The contract was custom made and clearly stated that given the extent of the work to be done on her, she would need a period of at least months if not more. During her stay at the clinic, she would be sharing rooms, and there would be absolutely no contact with the outside world – no emails, no calls, no pigeons. Her family could not come to meet her. This was done to keep the patients away from worldly criticism during the process as many lacked the patience to see it through. It also contained a non-disclosure agreement which forbade her from telling the name of the doctor, clinic or any information from inside the clinic to outsiders.

After a cursory reading, Nina looked up and after eyeing the entire place again asked, “How did you…find out about me?”

“Oh!” Janice said with a bright smile, “I’m sorry but we do routine checks on hospitals and whenever we see a potential client, we send them a mail. They only arrive 50% of the time because most think we’re a scam.”

That’s what you smell like to me too, Nina thought and asked, “When will the payment be due?”

“Usually, clinics ask for at least 75% of the payment upfront. However, we work on a strict procedure-based payment policy. Which means once you’re inducted, you’ll start paying every week based on your treatment plan of the week. In case of a weekend spend recuperating, you could be charged as low as 100$ whereas a series of procedures could be 750$. You can see an estimate of your treatment cost on the last page,” Janice flipped the document over.

How is any of that cheap! Nina sighed, guess I’ll lose all my savings and more if it goes on for longer than 6 months.

“Can I get back on this tomorrow?” Nina asked. For a moment, Janice looked mildly annoyed.

“I’m sorry Miss. Thorne but company policies and also our surgeon’s need to keep this information secret does not allow us to contact our clients via telephone or let anyone leave with information they can submit. If you leave this warehouse, it shall be assumed you do not want to avail the procedure, in which case you must sign this non-disclosure agreement about today. If you do sign the contract for undergoing the process, we begin straight away.”

Nina was miffed. “But I haven’t told my family or prepared things to suddenly disappear for half a year! I do not even have my clothes with me.”

“You will be provided with all items of luxury and necessity at the clinic,” Janice said firmly, “I have both the contracts ready, so please make you decision.”

Nina rolled her eyes and Janice flinched for the first time as the expression looked especially grotesque on Nina’s scarred face.

“Can I make a call to a family member?” Nina asked finally.

“You will find no cell reception here,” Janice smiled apologetically, “However, once you get to the clinic, you will be allowed one final phone call.”

Is this a clinic or a jail? Nina fumed internally. But time was running out. She only had so much money and while this unnamed clinic was beginning to sound more and more like a trafficking ring, the contract seemed to be drawn out well. It answered most, if not all questions and in case of drastic variance in he final result, allowed money to be refunded.

I don’t think how life could get any worse. I won’t find a job with this face anyway. They won’t even hire me as a cashier. Or a coal-miner.

Taking a deep breath, she said, “I’ll sign it.”