Platformed

Chapter 9

9

The next day no one came to her room to get her, but she didn’t mind. They sent her a chocolatey breakfast and indulgent macaroni and cheese lunch and rich stew for dinner and she wished for distraction but was also perfectly okay to not be forced out of bed.

The day after that, a short man with dark hair knocked on the door when she expected dinner. It had been almost two days since she’d done anything besides eat and sleep and was quite ready for whatever kind of examination this might be.

“Everything going well so far?” he asked as they set off down the hall. He had some kind of accent she couldn’t place.

“As well as can be expected.”

He smiled like this was funny. “Well, today’s an exciting day for you!”

“Is it?” She found it hard to summon emotions of any kind. So many days with so little stimulation had deadened whatever emotional range she still had.

“Just in here,” he said, practically bowing as he gestured into yet another clinic room. She thought she knew the drill by now, but she did not recognize the machine that took up most of the room. An MRI, maybe?

He noticed her hesitation and gently guided her towards it, his hand on her shoulder.

“What…?”

Instead of answering, he thrust a glass of water and a white pill toward her. Her eyes wide, his smile wider. Was it reassuring?

“A mild sedative.”

No one here liked to explain what was going on.

“Why?” she demanded.

“The laser moves quickly,” he said. “It stops if you move, so it’s much easier if you’re relaxed.”

Her eyes darted around the room. Her heart pounded.

“Laser eye surgery, right?” she asked, hoping she was right.

“Of course!” he said, laughing now.

Relief flooded her and she didn’t know what she’d been worried about, but was glad not to have to confront it. She swallowed the pill, climbed into the chair and settled in, waiting to feel something. He chattered on about the machine and what she would feel and smell—smell!—and how quickly it would be over.

Her eyes were forced open and something numbing dropped in, which stung for a moment. Both eyes were suddenly so dry. She thought to ask if that was normal, but then the man stepped away and the machine whirred to life.

She did indeed smell it for just a moment and hear it for just a moment and then it was over. And the world was already so much clearer!

Lights like starbursts mounted in the ceiling, but she could read the Wash your hands sign on the other side of the room.

“Now go rest,” he instructed her, the words falling around her as she blinked slowly, awed. “Don’t rub your eyes.”

The pancakes had not made this place worth it, she decided. But this did.