Rectify: A Novella

by Druga, Jacqueline

  “What does that mean?” Dietz asked. “It works or doesn’t it? I’m confused.”

  “They don’t know for sure,” Tom replied. “If they can turn it around seven out of ten times that’s pretty good.”

  “Officials at the CDC say if this is indeed the wonder drug,” the newscaster continued, “We in the United States will have it on the ground with our health care facilities and R-Teams within six months time. Possibly a vaccine will follow soon after.”

  The men in the room all cheered and whooped.

  “Alright, alright,” Tom held up his hand. “Let’s not get too excited yet.”

  “Sir, this is great news,” Dietz said. “I mean … we could be out of a job.”

  “One can only hope.” Tom folded his arms, watching the television. “One could only hope.”

  20 – BREAKFAST

  The temperature reading on June’s rearview mirror read eighty and it wasn’t even nine am. What made matters worse were the reports of rolling blackouts. The news reported that everyone at some point would lose their electricity for two hours. There weren’t enough workers to keep up with demands. June was guilty of not conserving energy, she pumped her air conditioning on high.

  At least the hospital remained cool.

  Her shift felt exceptionally long. Too many patients, not enough hands. June was still reeling in grief and working didn’t help. At least she didn’t make mistakes.

  She was exhausted. When she pulled into her driveway she didn’t even have the energy to get out of her car. He legs hurt so bad that she didn’t want to walk. She had to take a moment because her day wasn’t done. Before even getting some sleep she knew she had to prepare breakfast. Her mother wouldn’t. No one but June would.

  “June, you need to take some time.” Doctor Ung had told her before she left. “It’s only been five days since your husband and daughter died. Take some time.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You’re exhausted.”

  “I have to be here. I have to.”

  Maybe Doctor Ung had a point. Maybe she should take a day or two off. As much as she needed to be at the hospital, she needed to get her strength back. As she sat in her car, June decided that after she slept, she would call the hospital and take that bereavement time they offered.

  After she figured she was outside long enough, June shut off the car, grabbed her purse and bag and opened the car door.

  Her legs had tightened up in the short drive.

  The second she stepped from the car, her front door opened.

  Her mother didn’t look well or happy. What was wrong now?

  At a slow pace, June made her way to the front door.

  “What’s wrong?” June asked and stepped inside. That was when she saw the bags. A suitcase and two overstuffed backpacks. “What’s going on?”

  “I can’t do this with you,” Linda said. “It’s not fair to the girls. I’m … I’m taking Henny and Aggie with me.”

  “You can’t take my daughters.”

  “Yes, June, I can. I will. It’s …. this is not good for them. This isn’t good for you.” Linda placed a firm grip on her arms. “You need to put this behind you.”

  “It’s only been five days.”

  “I know. I’m not telling you how to grieve. I’m just saying I can’t let my granddaughters go through this. I’m taking them with me.”

  “Mommy?” Aggie tugged on her pant leg. “Come to Grandma’s.”

  “I … I can’t. Not right now.”

  Henny looked sad as she stepped to June and signed. “I don’t want to leave you Mommy. You can’t stay here. Please come with us. We love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “The girls,” Linda said. “They need you, June. They need you.”

  “I know. I need them, too. Take them.” June placed her hand on Henny’s face. “I will be there soon.”

  “Promise?” Linda asked.

  “I promise. I need to close up here and find closure.”

  Linda embraced her. “Get better. Heal. You need to heal.”

  “I will. I decided to call the hospital and take a few days off.”

  “Good. Good. That’s good. A couple days, June. You need to find peace.”

  “I know.”

  It broke her heart, but June understood why her mother was doing what she was doing. Emotionally, June wasn’t there for the girls. When she was home, her thoughts were on Stan and Melinda. More so on Melinda.

  June slept, ate, went to work, but mentally she never left her daughter behind.

  For the sake of her other children, June needed to heal and like her mother said, find peace.

  It was a tearful goodbye to the girls, one that ended with Henny nearly begging her mother.

  “Just come with us, please, come with us.”

  “Soon. Very soon.”

  June hugged and kissed them, and said her goodbyes. She stood in the door watching them leave. Then she closed the door.

  She was so tired, but she couldn’t rest yet.

  The steady thumping coming from the second floor reminded her of that.

  She locked the front door, set down her purse, then carrying her bag, slowly made her way up the stairs, her legs ached with every step she took.

  June needed to sleep.

  It felt like a victory when she arrived at the second floor. She went into the bathroom and placed her bag on the vanity. She filled a cup with water, then reached in the bag. She pulled out a plastic square with medication and popped two pills out. She took them, then took other items from the bag. Items she took from the hospital. A syringe, large gauze squares, a scalpel and the packaged, tiny white skin stapler. All of the items she rested on the vanity, then opened the medicine chest and pulled out a bottle of benzidine and cotton.

  After undoing the draw string on her scrub pants she let them drop.

  “Oh, God, what leg?” She examined her thighs. She looked like Frankenstein’s Monster with all the sutured and stapled lacerations.

  It had to be the right leg. It was the only option. There was a patch of inner thigh right above the knee. After that, she would move to her stomach … if need be.

  She lifted her right leg to the toilet seat and using the syringe injected the local, numbing her leg.

  The thumping noise grew louder and more intense.

  “Okay, I’m coming. I’m coming,” June called out.

  It seemed like an eternity until the area was numb. Once it was, June opened the stapler, moved the gauze closer and wiped an area of her leg with the benzidine. She pinched what flesh she could, and holding it tight, she grabbed the scalpel and sliced her leg like a roast. The flesh lifted and she let it rest on the hand that held the pinch. Blood poured out over her hand and to the floor.

  It was a routine June was used to.

  She dropped the scalpel, picked up the flesh and placed it on the gauze, then reached for a towel. June blotted her blood the best she could, then lifted the skin stapler and repaired and closed the wound.

  It was something she was getting quite good at. She was proficient and fast. It would hurt when the local wore off, they always did, that was why she took the pain pills. When they hit, she’d fall asleep deep enough not to feel the pain.

  Cleaning up would come after … after she stopped the thumping.

  June’s daily routine. Come home from work, cut her leg, clean up and sleep.

  How much longer she could keep it up? She didn’t know.

  After lifting her pants and tying the waist string, she stepped from the bathroom with the gauze and flesh in hand. She hadn’t noticed how hot it was in the house, which didn’t help with the over powering smell.

  It was horrendous and sour. It started getting bad a few days earlier and that was when she made Henny and Aggie sleep on the first floor in the family room.

  Her mother had hung what looked like a hundred of those tree shaped air fresheners all up and down the second floor hall. Cans of deodor
izer lay on the floor. She bent over and grabbed a can, casting a spray around before venturing the rest of the way down the hall to the final door.

  The thumping was loud from behind that door.

  “It’s me,” June called out, reaching for the handle.

  She was ready, but didn’t have too much to worry about. She turned the handle and slowly opened the door.

  The second it opened, Melinda raced full speed June’s way. She looked enraged, maddened, but June knew that would be short lived.

  Melinda’s arms were confined in a homemade straight jacket created from one of Stan’s shirts. She stopped when she reached June. Her hair was a matted mess. Her face gray with splotches of green discoloring and sores had formed around her chin. Her eyes had lost the blood shot look and became almost translucent. Her belly was bloated as were her feet, which were black.

  The child tilted her head and moved her mouth in a biting manner.

  June stared at her and lifted the gauze. She looked into Melinda’s eyes and smiled. Then June, like any mother would do, proceeded to feed her child.

  21 – THE DECISION

  Because of the huge tree in the front yard, the living room was the coolest place to sleep. The days were humid and stifling and the rolling blackouts became longer. June’s neighborhood had the misfortune of losing their power at night.

  The hot summer weather made deep sleep impossible. June did her best to rest. Her self-inflicted injuries were painful. She dulled the pain with pills and booze, passing out on a couch with a fabric that made it seem even hotter than it was.

  All of that attributed to the fact that she heard the doorbell right away.

  It rang and then there was knocking.

  June swung her legs from the couch and felt the pulling, stinging pain as soon as she stood. She could feel the fabric from her hospital scrubs pulling at her wounds. She peered down and saw the spots of dried blood. She cringed and walked to the door.

  “Okay, okay,” she shouted.

  Thump.

  Her eyes lifted to the ceiling then she peeked out the window next to the door.

  Doctor Ung stood there.

  She hesitated, making a face of irritation that he couldn’t see and then she opened the door, staying off to the side. “Hey, James, what … what brings you here?”

  “Oh my God.” he said, as if taken back by her appearance. “Let me in June, I want to check on you.”

  “No, it’s okay, I’m fine.”

  “Let me in. Your mother called me.”

  “James, I appreciate you coming to the house, but …” The screen door opened and he stepped in. “Hey!” she shouted.

  He grunted, then winced, bringing his hand to his nose, obviously trying to block the smell.

  “I haven’t showered.”

  “We both know that’s not what I smell. June … June ... what are you doing?”

  “Getting my head together. Healing.”

  “This is not healing. Look, I get it, I do. As a father … I would be hard put to let go. I would want to do everything possible for my child. That is not your child.”

  “You’re wrong, James,” June said. “She’s just like Mrs. Logan. She lets me hold her.”

  “Then you have been playing Russian Roulette. Even Mrs. Logan grew agitated when she was hungry. What happens if you don’t feed her. How are you …” his eyes lowered.

  At first June thought he was looking at her pants, then she realized his eyes were transfixed on her abdomen. June glanced down, the wife beater tank top she wore had blood on it.

  Before she could stop him he lifted her shirt. “Oh my God. What are you doing?” He bent over some, getting a closer look. “June … is this how you’re feeding her?”

  She lowered her shirt.

  “It is,” he said in shock. “Again, I am saying I get it. I do. But you have two other children and a mother who loves you. If you want what’s best for your family, then consider your family. Let the child go. Do you need me to do it?”

  “No.” June shook her head.

  “One bite, one scratch, in your weakened state, you’ll go from zero to sixty before you know it. There will be no coming back. June …”

  “I know. I know.”

  “It’s heartbreaking, but it has to be done before you don’t have a choice and someone does it for you. If you die, who will be here to feed her. She will become a violent rotting being locked in a room, or someone will call R-Team and they’ll storm in here and take her out. That is not how you want Melinda to go. Before I leave, let me tend to your wounds.”

  June shook her head. “No, I have this. I just … I just need to be alone.”

  “You promised Henny and your mother you would take care of this. Promise me you’ll follow through.”

  June lowered her head.

  “Promise me, June, promise you’ll take care of this.”

  “I promise.”

  “I’ll be back to check on you later,” Doctor Ung said.

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “Give me until tomorrow?” June asked.

  “I’ll think about it. Call me if you need me to help.”

  June nodded.

  He looked around, then slowly walked out of the house.

  Once he was gone, June locked the door. She hated the thought of ‘taking care’ of Melinda. It wasn’t that easy. Even though June knew a big part of her daughter was gone, it wasn’t as simple as walking into the room and rectifying her. Melinda was her child. Yet, unless she came up with another way, it wouldn’t be long before June couldn’t supply food for her child.

  She stood at the bottom of the stairs. The thumping grew louder. June’s glance moved along the table of photographs by the steps. She saw her life there, her family, numerous school pictures. James Ung was right. Even though Melinda needed her, they needed her more.

  The news spoke about a possible cure, but that was months away. Even if someone showed up the next day with a cure, with the heat, the decomposition of Melinda was too far advanced.

  Sadly, and with a heavy heart, June knew what she had to do.

  <><><><>

  It would be the last time she did it. The last time she sliced flesh from her own body. June took from her flank and the repair wasn’t as easy to do. It didn’t matter. After she handled Melinda, June planned to call Ung.

  Melinda hit against the door and June waited for the pause that told her Melinda was backing up to charge the door again. She opened it and stepped inside. Melinda raged to her and stopped.

  Holding out the gauze to Melinda, June’s lips puckered with sadness.

  The child took the flesh as if taking a piece of candy. She hungrily placed it in her mouth and June had her chance.

  “I’m sorry, baby, I am.” June crouched down to Melinda’s level, she ran her hand down her hair, then reached for the rectifying tool on the night stand. How long had it sat there, how many times did June contemplated using it and changed her mind? She never intended to keep Melinda revived, but it happened and she couldn’t bring herself to end it.

  June feared her child looking at her in the eyes, even in that state, that look was mistook as trust.

  She decided she would walk behind Melinda while she was occupied eating. Melinda wouldn’t see it coming and June wouldn’t have to see her daughters face as she snuffed out the last of the life in her.

  It broke June’s heart. Melinda was docile and focused on eating.

  “Goodbye my precious one,” June said. “Mommy loves you.” Before she stood to do the deed, June did something she had done every day since Melinda revived.

  She embraced her.

  It was never for long and usually while Melinda ate.

  She placed her arms around Melinda, pulling the rigid child close. “I love you,” June said.

  June didn’t think the embrace was any different than the days before, but it was. What June didn’t know was when she took her child in
her arms, Melinda dropped her food.

  In the middle of saying one more ‘I love you’, Melinda bit down hard on June’s shoulder.

  June screamed. She felt the teeth go into her and Melinda's jaw locked like a Pitbull.

  It took all of her strength to remove Melinda, and when she did the skin pulled from her. The warm sensation of blood oozed down her chest, breathing heavily June stumbled to a stand, holding the rectifying tool.

  Melinda didn’t move to attack again, she had more food and had once again become calm.

  It was June’s opportunity, the bite told her one thing. Melinda didn’t see June as a mother, she saw her as a meal.

  As she tried to lift the tool her arm shook, she had lost her strength and was very weak. June dropped the instrument and raced out, closing the door behind her.

  She ran into the main bathroom where she had all her supplies and grabbed a towel to stop the bleeding.

  The pain was unreal, worse than the self-inflicted ones on her legs. She fumbled for the skin stapler. Standing in front of the mirror, she dropped the towel. The wound felt bigger than it was. It was about the size of a fifty cent piece. Despite the size, it was gaping, June squeezed it closed and stapled three times.

  It wouldn’t hold. She knew it wouldn’t. Getting medical help was pointless. The location of her wound was considered high transference. Meaning, it was an immediate infection, instantly working like a shot of adrenaline straight to the heart.

  There was nothing June could do. She was doomed. She could not stop it, June could only go forward.

  With those thoughts, June reached for the medicine bag and grabbed the pain medication and a syringe with a sedative.

  22 – JUST BEFORE

  It wasn’t supposed to happen this way, it wasn’t. All had gone as planned. The grocery store back room was an open area, there was nowhere for the Codies to hide. The gas dispersed perfectly, Major Tom was certain they could take out the four that were in there without incident.

  Tom was just as guilty as everyone else on his team. They were arrogant and cocky that it would be easy. All of them over the course of a week had become braver, if that was possible. Carrying a premature case of feeling infallible.