The Charity Chip

by Brock Booher

  When he emerged from the shower, lunch had started and the round tables were filling up, but Julio didn’t mind not being the first in line. He felt cleaner than he had been in years. His mouth watered as he served himself a plate of ají de gallina, shredded chicken cooked with garlic, and papas a la huancaína, boiled potatoes smothered in yellow sauce. It was a far cry from the stale bread he had eaten that morning, but he remembered Carmen’s warning, and was careful not to take more than he thought he could eat.

  All the tables except one were full when he finished filling his plate. The young woman he had watched enter the facility that morning sat by herself at the corner table picking at her food. Julio set down his plate of food and slipped off his backpack before taking the seat across from her. He smiled at her. She smiled back.

  Julio was hungry, and the plate of hot food was inviting, but as he shoveled the hot meal into his mouth, he found himself sneaking glances at the young woman. She continued to pick at her food and take occasional small bites, but not with the same gusto that Julio did. She had a long slender face with a sharp nose, and her complexion was lighter than everyone else in the room. Her straight black hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Physically, she didn’t draw attention. Raúl would describe the young woman as plain, but her eyes were a mesmerizing dark green, and Julio found them captivating.

  He paused his feeding frenzy for a moment and cleared his throat. “Is the food always this good here?” he asked.

  The green-eyed girl looked up from her plate as if she were surprised to find someone sitting across from her. “What? The food?”

  Julio felt his face turn red, and he tried to cover his rush of emotion with a smile. He swallowed and repeated the question. “Is the food always this good here?”

  She looked down at her plate of picked-over food and gave a shrug. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

  “You don’t seem to have much of an appetite.”

  She looked at him like she was trying to figure out why he was talking to her.

  Julio felt even more embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” he said as he extended his hand. “My name is Julio.”

  She looked at his hand first and then straight into his face for a moment before she finally put her hand in his. “Angelica.”

  The cold response felt awkward, and Julio returned to his lunch. Before he could finish, Angelica took her dirty dishes to the kitchen and hurried out the front door.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  El Exámen

  (The Exam)

  The awkward feeling from the encounter with Angelica lingered with Julio as he finished his lunch, but it didn’t affect his appetite. He finished everything on his plate, and when two of the other boys went back for seconds, he was right behind them. He didn’t know where his next meal might come from, and he certainly wasn’t going to pass up hot food. He stuffed himself until he couldn’t eat another bite.

  When he took his dirty dishes back to the kitchen, Carmen grinned, unashamed of the missing front tooth. “Did you get enough to eat?” she asked.

  “Oh yes,” said Julio as he patted his stomach. “You do feed your children well.”

  “Buen provecho. If you’re here tomorrow, you won’t have to stuff yourself,” she said with a chuckle.

  Julio waddled back over to his seat and plopped himself down. He looked out into the study area. The group had thinned a little bit after lunch. Everyone was either at a computer with headphones on or reading a book. The two boys who had been playing chess earlier were gone. Even though he hadn’t been to school for several years, it seemed a little strange to Julio that no one was socializing, but then again, these were street kids, and trust wasn’t their strong suit.

  Everyone was clean and well groomed. None of them had on fancy clothing, but everyone’s clothes fit, and they all had shoes. Unlike the crowd of street kids at the plaza every day, this group had an equal number of girls and boys. Likewise, nobody in this group was missing a limb, like the one-armed boy that sold matches.

  He was curious and wanted to try out one of the computers. He walked over and jiggled a mouse, but nothing happened. He stood behind Graciela and watched her work several math problems before he sat down in the reading area and began browsing through the books.

  Isak interrupted him with a question. “Did you enjoy lunch?”

  Julio patted his stomach. “Yes, delicious.”

  “Well, let’s find out if you get to come back for lunch tomorrow,” said Isak. He tousled Julio’s hair and added, “God willing.”

  Julio grabbed his backpack and followed Isak across the study area to the small waiting room in front of the clinic. A tall redheaded woman in a lab coat was waiting for them. Her skin was fair, but her eyes were dark. She wore a dress that was only slightly longer than her lab coat and exposed her slender legs. Her face was cold and hard.

  “Julio, this is Doctor Kozyar, our resident physician,” said Isak.

  The redheaded doctor nodded without smiling. Julio nodded back.

  “Oxana, um, Doctor Kozyar will conduct the physical examination and determine if you are qualified medically.” Isak looked at Doctor Kozyar and said something in foreign language. She gave a brief answer, and Isak unlocked the door with a swipe of his hand and departed through the back door.

  Julio watched the doctor’s eyes follow Isak until he was completely out of sight. When she turned back to Julio, her eyes seemed colder and her face emotionless. Hoping to warm the exchange, he smiled at the beautiful doctor, but her expression didn’t change.

  “Follow,” barked Doctor Kozyar with a thick accent. She swiped her hand over the scanner and shoved open the door to the clinic.

  Julio obeyed. As he entered the clinic, he felt a chill. The room was brightly lit with a large hospital bed in the center. Around the edges of the room were various machines on wheels, and what looked like a large tool cabinet made of stainless steel. In the corner was a counter with a sink and several canisters of supplies. Above the bed was a large circular light attached to an adjustable arm. The room felt different than the warm cozy setting Doctor Barilla worked in. Julio shivered.

  Doctor Kozyar pulled a green gown out of one of the cabinets and handed it to Julio. “Strip off all clothes and put on,” she said. Her accent was different than Isak’s, much thicker, and her Spanish was barely intelligible.

  Julio took off his backpack and hesitated. He hoped she would leave the room as he changed into the gown, but she sat down at the computer in the corner and began typing. “Strip off all clothes and put on,” she insisted.

  Slowly he began undressing, hoping she would stay focused on the screen, but he felt her glancing up at him as he peeled off his clothes. When he had stripped down to his underwear and the Saint Michael’s pendant, he began fiddling with the green medical gown to put it on.

  “Remove undergarments,” she demanded as she continued to type.

  Julio hesitated.

  She looked at her watch and then gave him a glare. “Remove undergarments.”

  He glared back at her and slipped on the gown first. Then he pulled off his dirty underwear. He was glad he had showered earlier. He still wore his pendant, and the metal chain felt cold against his bare chest. Tying the gown in the back well enough to keep from exposing his bare bottom was an impossible task, but he did the best he could. As he finished he looked up to find the doctor standing in front of him holding out a small plastic cup.

  “I need urine sample. Go to bathroom. Fill cup with urine up to this line.” She pointed to a mark on the cup. “Do not to get any on cup. After you fill, put lid on tight and wash hands,” she said with emphasis on the last two words. “Bring cup and place on tray next to computer.”

  Julio took the cup, and Doctor Kozyar returned to her computer. Then with the cup in one hand, and the other hand trying to keep the back of his gown closed, he shuffled out the clinic door and hurried to the bathroom hoping no one was watching. He followed the doctor’s orders meticulously. He
deposited just the right amount of golden fluid into the cup, tightened the lid, and washed his hands. After drying his hands, he grabbed the cup of warm urine in one hand, the back of the gown in the other, and shuffled back to the examination room without making eye contact with anyone in the room. When he pushed against the door with his shoulder, the door didn’t budge. It was chip-activated, and he hadn’t been chipped yet. He stood there with one hand holding his gown shut in back and the other holding his urine sample. He could feel all the eyes in the room resting on him like they were waiting to see what he would do. Without looking back, he set the cup on the floor, knocked on the door, and picked up the sample. A few seconds later, Doctor Kozyar opened the door, and Julio deposited the cup on the tray as instructed.

  “Stand on scale,” ordered Doctor Kozyar.

  He stepped forward and stood motionless on the cold metal scale still holding the back of his gown. She mumbled something unintelligible as she jotted down Julio’s height and weight information and then sat back down at the computer.

  “Sit on examination table. I need personal information,” she demanded in her heavy accent.

  Julio tried to keep his gown closed in back and hopped up on the end of the table. His bare feet dangled over the edge.

  “Full name,” she demanded.

  “Julio César Camino de Pachacutec,” he answered with pride. She typed as he spoke, but never asked about spelling.

  “Living relatives?”

  “None.” He hoped his quick answer would hide his deception.

  “How did parents die?” asked Doctor Kozyar injecting more force. “We need to know if disease you carry,” she added.

  Julio paused but then answered truthfully, “My father was shot to death by the police during a union protest. My mother died of pneumonia four years ago.” He felt a pang of sadness stab him as he answered.

  The interrogation continued for a few minutes as Doctor Kozyar asked about his eating habits, sleeping habits, hygiene, and drug and alcohol use. After she finished typing, she stood and put on a pair of latex gloves and grabbed a stethoscope. She slipped the stethoscope into her ears and slipped her hand through the slit of the gown. The listening end of the device was cold against his bare skin.

  “Deep breaths,” she ordered.

  Julio began inhaling and exhaling in long deep breaths, trying not to let his nervousness get the best of him. He could feel his heart beating a little faster and his palms beginning to sweat as the cold-hearted doctor invaded deeper into his personal space. He focused on his goal of a better life. He thought about the promise to Mamá. He remembered what happened to Emilio.

  “Open mouth,” she said as she shoved a dry slab of wood halfway down his throat. Next she grabbed his ear, shoved some torture device into the opening, and drew close to take a look. She moved in front of his face and without warning, blinded him with a tiny light. As he blinked and struggled to recover his vision, she thumped his joints and feet with a small rubber mallet. Without a word, she shoved him back and made him lie on the examination table. Even through the latex gloves, he felt her icy fingers as she pushed on his stomach and chest. He was certain she was going to search every inch of his body for any sign of a problem, and the more she searched, the more Julio wished it would end.

  “Stand up,” barked Doctor Kozyar as she pulled over a stool on wheels. Just as he felt his toes touch the cold tile floor, Doctor Kozyar lifted the front of his gown and grabbed him in a cold grip. “Turn head and cough,” she demanded.

  Any humiliation he thought he had felt up to now paled in comparison to this moment. Julio hesitated and drew in a quick breath. Trying not to make any sudden movements, he turned his head and forced a dry cough. After what seemed like an eternity, the doctor relaxed her death grip and released him from bondage. She wheeled herself over to the counter to grab some other device of torture. Julio felt stripped of his dignity and shuddered.

  “Okay, back on table. I must check blood pressure and take blood sample,” she commanded.

  Certain that the worst had to be over, Julio complied and climbed back onto the table again. She slapped a large black band around his arm and secured it. With a push of a button, the band around his arm tightened, and the blood pressure machine let out a few errant beeps.

  After the band on his arm went slack, Doctor Kozyar removed it and replaced it with a large rubber strap over the upper arm that cut off the circulation to the lower arm. She wiped his arm with an alcohol wipe. Julio had helped Doctor Barilla with this and knew she was getting ready to take blood. She removed a wrapped syringe from one of the jars on the counter and ripped it open. She removed the orange cap and exposed the needle before grabbing his arm with her left hand and deftly jabbed the needle into the vein showing through his skin. Julio felt the sting of the needle as it entered the blood vessel. Having been numbed by the entire experience thus far, he reacted with only a slight grimace and watched as his blood pumped into a small glass vial.

  “Hold this on arm for few moments,” said Doctor Kozyar as she removed the needle and placed a cotton ball on the puncture wound.

  Julio complied with the doctor’s orders and sat there on the table pressing the cotton ball against his arm. He had once heard Doctor Barilla explain that scientists and doctors sometimes tested cures and diseases on small animals. Right now, he thought he understood how the animals felt, and he hoped it would all be worth it. He vowed that if he ever became a doctor, he would remember how he felt today and treat his patients differently.

  Doctor Kozyar removed her gloves and began typing something into the computer. “When bleeding stops, put back on clothes and go to waiting room,” she said, without even looking up.

  Breathing a sigh of relief, Julio threw the cotton ball on the table and stood up. Not caring anymore if the redheaded witch saw him naked, he defiantly stripped off the gown and began dressing. He noticed how dingy his clothes appeared against the antiseptic and lifeless environment. He tossed the flimsy green gown in a pile onto the examination table, grabbed his backpack, and hurried out into the waiting room. He collapsed onto the small couch and closed his eyes. What have I gotten myself into? I’d rather be juggling in the streets than go through that again. He glanced down at the drop of blood on his arm and remembered what he told the young girl he helped stitch up. The wound that heals doesn’t hurt. He let out a sigh and sat up.

  The waiting room area only had pamphlets on health and hygiene and didn’t hold his attention for very long. He stood up and stretched, still feeling sluggish from the big lunch. He slipped his backpack over one shoulder and strolled into the study area, trying to forget about the examination. Only a handful of kids were still around, but he saw Graciela still sitting at the same computer.

  He slid over to an empty computer with a blank screen and tapped the keyboard. Nothing happened. He jiggled the mouse. Nothing happened. He thought that maybe it had been turned off and tried another one, but once again, it didn’t come to life.

  “They won’t work until you get chipped,” said Graciela.

  Julio nodded and kept moving around the room trying to act casual as he looked for something to occupy his time while he waited. He surveyed the bookshelf and discovered a book Mamá used to read to him, Huevos Verdes Con Jamón by Dr. Seuss. He made himself comfortable in one of the chairs and began reading about green eggs and ham. Why couldn’t Doctor Kozyar be more like Dr. Seuss?

  “There you are,” said Isak, just as Julio was finishing the book. “Doctor Kozyar has compiled the results of your physical examination. If you will come with me, we can discuss the results.” He turned without waiting to see if Julio was following and headed for the back door.

  Julio’s stomach did a flip. He slipped the book back into the bookshelf, grabbed his backpack, and hurried after Isak.

  Isak swiped his hand and unlocked the door to the hallway and motioned for Julio precede him. “Just follow the hallway around the corner to my office.”

 
Julio’s heart jumped as Isak pulled the door shut behind him. The sounds of Isak’s shoes echoed in the small hallway behind him and gave him the sensation of being driven or corralled. He stopped at the end of the hallway and waited for Isak.

  “The door is unlocked. Go on in and have a seat in the leather chair in front of my desk,” instructed Isak.

  Julio’s palms were sweating as he gripped the doorknob and opened the door to Isak’s office.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  La Inyección

  (The Injection)

  Julio sat in a comfortable leather chair facing Isak’s enormous wooden desk, which was clean except for a brass clock suspended in glass and a set of ornamental flags—one blue with a gold cross and the other a white globe splashed across a background of light blue. Isak had his chair turned and looked at the largest computer screen Julio had ever seen. On the wall behind the desk hung a large shadow box with various medals and ribbons and a picture of Isak in a military uniform. In the corner by the window sat a giant ornate globe suspended in a brass frame next to a matching leather sofa backed up to the window. The sunlight from outside highlighted a white sculpture of a naked man and woman kissing perched on the coffee table. The weight of the office pushed Julio deeper into the leather chair.

  After a few moments of silence, Isak turned to face Julio. “Well, Julio, I have reviewed the results of your examination, and you seem to be in good health, although a bit undernourished. You have no known genetic defects or contagious diseases. Overall, you are in good health.” He smiled. “It appears you are a viable candidate for Caritas.”

  Julio smiled back.

  Isak folded his hands on top of his desk. “In years past, a great deal of money was spent trying to help children like you. Technology today enables us to deliver the money directly to the user while still controlling its use. It puts the power to succeed in the hands of those we are trying to help, literally.” He pulled a small glass square from his desk drawer and held it up for Julio to see. Embedded in the square was a small cylindrical device slightly larger than a grain of rice.