Crooks and Straights

by Masha du Toit

  Then he shot Gia an amused look. “Paddavis. That’s what I’m called.” He gave a nod, and vanished.

  Valkenberg

  There was a guard post at the entrance to Valkenberg, and a boom blocked their way.

  “So. How do we get in?”

  Karel slowed the car to a stop, and craned to see if there was anyone in the guard post.

  More delay. Gia felt her stomach knot with nerves.

  She’d be okay, if only she could get this over with quickly. But everything was going wrong this morning.

  Nico had flatly refused to cooperate with anything Mandy had asked him to do. It was as though he sensed something was wrong. Gia had not felt hungry either, and had looked on in sympathy as he turned his head away from his porridge. He had boiled over into a silent tantrum just as they were about to leave, which meant that Saraswati, tense and pale herself, was too distracted to say goodbye properly.

  Now he sat, stiff and silent in the back of the car.

  Karel beeped the hooter, which made Gia jump.

  “Well, there we go,” he said. “Here comes somebody. Not having a good day, by the looks of him!”

  Gia looked anxiously at the approaching guard. It was true, he did have a sour expression.

  “Papers.”

  “Hold on a mo,” said Karel. “We’ve come for testing. Here.”

  The guard looked over the letter, then peered into the car. “Who’s being tested?”

  “I am,” said Gia.

  “Not the boy?”

  “Not this time,” said Karel.

  “Then you’ll have to turn round here, sir. Only children under twelve are allowed a parent or guardian.”

  Karel opened his mouth, but Gia forestalled him. The argument would take precious time, and she wanted to get this over with.

  “It’s okay, Dad,” she said. “You’re going to be late getting to Mrs Winterbach’s as it is.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Please, Dad.”

  He frowned at her, the worry and concern so clear that for a moment she wavered.

  But she was no longer a child.

  “I’ll be okay now,” she said. “It can’t be worse than the dentist, can it?”

  This got a reluctant smile. “You sure, Gia?”

  She nodded. It was a lie, but a lie that made her feel stronger.

  “Well, you give me a call as soon as you’re done and I’ll come and pick you up.”

  She made herself smile, and gave her father a quick kiss. Nico turned his head away, so she gave his hand a squeeze.

  She got out before she could change her mind.

  “Bye, Nico. Bye, Dad.”

  With a crunch of gravel, the car turned and she was alone.

  “You’re going to the annex,” said the guard. “Not the main building. I’ll call somebody to escort you.”

  Another guard appeared and gestured for her to follow.

  They walked along a road that wound through a rather shabby, old-fashioned garden. Various buildings stood back from the road among the trees. Gia could see the largest of them some way off. A large, Victorian place with a tall tower. At first she thought this was their destination, but the guard turned down a side-road to a long, modern building with large glass doors.

  He tapped at a keypad, and the doors slid open.

  Inside was a metal detector and another guard.

  “Come for testing,” said Gia’s escort to this guard. Then without even a glance at Gia, he went back the way they had come.

  “Keys, texters?” the door-guard said in a bored voice.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Keys, texters?”

  Seeing that Gia still did not understand, he sighed and came alive enough to explain.

  “Don’t want to set off the metal detector. Do you have any keys on you, or a texter, anything like that?”

  “Yes. I’ve got a bunch of keys, and a texter in my pocket.”

  “Right. Put them in this tray.”

  Gia did as she was told, then stepped through the metal detector.

  The doors slid shut behind her.

  -oOo-

  The receptionist glanced over her letter, then nodded towards the row of plastic chairs. “Take a seat, please. I’ll let them know you’re here.”

  There was no one else in the reception area, and nothing to look at but a few plants in pots. Gia spent some time trying to decide if the plants were real or plastic, and then, for want of anything better to do, read through the letter again.

  Deep testing.

  What did that actually mean?

  She realised that the receptionist had called out her name.

  “You’re to go to B-21,” she said, writing the number on the letter. “Through that door, all the way to the end, up one flight of stairs and then to the right. You’ll see the numbers on the doors. And better leave that bag with me. Security won’t like you taking anything inside.”

  Feeling a bit lost without the familiar weight of her bag swinging from her shoulder, she approached the door where a security guard stood waiting.

  “Letter,” he said, and she showed him the document.

  “Do you have any weapons on you? A camera?”

  “No.”

  He looked her over, and for a moment she thought he was going to search her. Instead, he nodded. “You are aware that the taking of any photographs, or any recordings, of any kind, is strictly prohibited. Also the removal of anything from these premises without permission.”

  This was rattled off almost too fast for Gia to follow.

  “Yes,” she said. “I mean, I understand.”

  He waved her through.

  Beyond the door was a long corridor, lit by humming fluorescent striplights. Every few metres there was a small black glass dome, fixed to the ceiling. These puzzled Gia until she realised they must be security cameras.

  She was relieved to see that all the doors had numbers on them. It should be easy enough to find B-21.

  A man in a lab-coat stepped into the corridor ahead of her. A door shut behind him with a soft but solid thump, like the door of a safe. He walked past, his glance sliding over her.

  At the top of the stairs she stood for a moment in rising panic, having forgotten the way. But the door numbers helped her and soon enough she stood outside number B-21, which was slightly open.

  A voice responded to her knock. “Come in! Just push it open and come in. It’s a bit stiff— that’s right.”

  A small woman sat behind a desk, scribbling on a notepad. “Hello,” she said. “Sit right there. I’ll be right with you.”

  She wore a pastel blue outfit that reminded Gia of a nurse’s uniform, and her hair was pinned neatly into a cap of the same colour. She had blue eyes, and soft, white skin, and Gia found herself wondering if she burned as easily as Paddavis.

  “Right,” said the nurse, closing her notepad. “Have you got your letter? Good.”

  She took the letter and copied something from it into her pad.

  “I’m Nurse Lily,” she said, sitting back. “And you are Gianetta Grobbelaar? Excellent. Gianetta, I’m going to ask you a few quick questions, and then we’ll go back there—” She nodded to a curtained area behind her. “And do a few little tests. Right? Good. Now. How old are you, Gianetta?”

  She went on to ask a list of questions, about Gia’s weight and medical history. These everyday questions, in this peculiar place, made Gia feel almost dizzy with strangeness.

  In this air-conditioned box of a room she felt further from her own world than she’d ever been before.

  There were not even any windows to let in some air or sun. There was nothing to connect her to the world in which, only a few minutes before, she’d been saying goodbye to her father.

  A knock made them both look round. A young woman stood in the door. She wore a grey uniform, but had none of nurse Lily’s easy confidence.

  “Ah, Cadet Dunson,” said Nurse Lily. "We’re just about ready to sta
rt. If you could pull up the charts?”

  Cadet Dunson nodded, and went to the curtained area where a small computer was set up. She switched it on, and started tapping at the keyboard, without once looking at Gia.

  “Now, Gianetta,” said Nurse Lily. “If you go have a look behind that curtain you’ll find a gown folded on the bed. Just slip out of your clothes and put on the gown for me, while I get a few things ready.”

  Gia felt a stab of nerves. She got up reluctantly and walked over to the curtain. Behind it was a narrow bed, and a counter that held several medical-looking machines. The curtain did not give her much privacy, but a quick glance told her that Cadet Dunson was completely absorbed in whatever she was doing. Gia spotted the security camera up in one corner of the ceiling, but there was nothing she could do about that.

  She undressed, and drew the gown on quickly, shivering a little in the chilled air. Unsure what to do with her clothes, she folded them as neatly as she could on a nearby chair, hiding her underwear under the pile.

  Thank God that I’m not having my period, she thought, then wondered whether that would have affected the test results.

  The gown was very short, and hardly closed in front. As she was still trying to tie it shut, Nurse Lily came pushing through the curtain, a stethoscope round her neck.

  “Ready? Good,” she said. “Hold your arms out to the side for me— that’s right.”

  She flipped open the gown, and cast a brisk eye over Gia’s body. “Turn round.”

  Gia felt the gown lift, then drop back.

  “Good. Good. Now, sit on the bed. No, more to the left. That’s right.”

  She drew a thermometer out of her breast pocket, gave it an expert flick, and popped it in Gia’s mouth. “Just hold that under your tongue, dear.”

  Gia felt herself shivering, more with nerves than with cold, and flinched as the nurse put the chilly stethoscope on her skin.

  “Take a deep breath— and let it out. Another. And let it out. Good.”

  Nurse Lily tucked Gia’s gown around her, and slipped the thermometer out of her mouth.

  “Cadet Dunson, are you ready?”

  “Yes, nurse.”

  “Good. Record a temperature of thirty-seven degrees, chest clear, heart normal. I’m going to draw a little blood now,” she said to Gia.

  Gia watched as she primed the syringe, but looked away as the needle went in. It was not as bad as she’d feared, a dull pain in the crook of her arm.

  “Hold this for me.”

  Gia held the little patch of gauze on the puncture wound while the nurse secured it with a scrap of tape.

  “Cadet.”

  Cadet Dunson took the syringe to one of the machines, standing in such a way that Gia could not see what she did. There was a click and a clunk, and then a hum that rose in pitch and then settled at a steady note.

  While Gia was still wondering what was happening to the blood sample, Nurse Lily reached and folded something down from the wall behind her.

  “Just lift your arms, dear, and place them— that’s right.”

  Two armrests dropped into place on either side of her, and Gia found herself leaning back against a padded board. Before she realised what was happening, Nurse Lily had snapped two broad, black straps around each of her arms, one around the wrist, the other just below the elbow. She tried to lift her arms, but they were securely fastened. Then a strap was pulled around her chest, forcing her against the backrest.

  Nurse Lily leaned forward and did something out of her sight.

  Gia felt her head trapped between two soft but solid barriers.

  “Sit quietly now, my dear,” said the nurse. “That’s just there so you don’t move by accident. The equipment is so sensitive…”

  Her voice died out as she leaned to one side, then with a rattle, she pulled something down from overhead. It looked like the machine that optometrists use, a complicated collection of lenses and disks in glistening chrome.

  Nurse Lily swung it down and towards her, fitting the lower half over Gia’s neck and shoulders, with a curved section cupping her chin. “There. Can you move your head, dear?”

  Gia tried. “No.”

  “Not too tight?”

  Yes, too tight, take it off! was what she wanted to say, but did not want to seem impolite.

  “No, it’s fine.” It was hard to talk, as she could not really move her jaw.

  “Good.” The nurse twisted something down that slotted in place over Gia’s left ear. Her vision was blocked on that side, and she felt, rather than saw, as Nurse Lily made more adjustments. She felt the nurse’s breath on her cheek, smelt the faint lavender scent of her perfume. There was a series of clicks, then a soft whoosh of compressed air. There was pressure in her ear, building until just below the edge of pain.

  Then the nurse drew back, apparently satisfied.

  The same procedure was repeated, this time with her right ear.

  “What are you doing?” Gia asked, trying to move her head but failing once again.

  “Now, you just relax, my dear,” said the nurse.

  Her hands came into view, and she tightened a band around Gia’s forehead.

  “Close your eyes for a moment— that’s a good girl.”

  Gia felt something move in front of her face, and when the nurse told her to open her eyes she found that a new part of the machine had been lowered, this one to fit over her eyes and forehead.

  There was another click, and she had to screw her eyes shut against the light.

  “A bit bright, isn’t it?”

  Another click or two, and the light dropped to a more bearable level, although it was still glaring in Gia’s eyes.

  Gia was starting to find it hard to breathe.

  What’s happening to me? said a small voice deep in her mind but she suppressed it. If she allowed herself to be frightened now, she’d be in a screaming panic, and losing control was the worst thing she could do.

  At least my legs are still free.

  But when she surreptitiously tried to swing her feet, she found that they, too had been fastened somehow, and she could not move at all.

  Her heart thumped in her chest and she tried to relax, taking breaths as deep as the chest strap allowed.

  Nurse Lily turned away and Gia heard her speaking to the cadet. A moment later, she was back, holding something. There was the sound of a latch clicking and Gia guessed that it was a box of some kind. The nurse looked down at whatever it was, and back at her eyes again, comparing.

  “Hmm. Yes. Number fifty-six, I think.”

  She lifted something out of the box— something the size of a small egg, but round— and inserted it into the part of the machine that framed Gia’s eyes. Gia heard it drop into place with a clunk, and was suddenly sure she knew what it was.

  A glass eye.

  “No,” mused the nurse. “Too dark. Maybe a fifty-four.”

  She released the thing, catching it in her palm, and replaced it with another.

  “Much better. Now just a little finesse on the lighting…”

  She adjusted the angle of the light.

  “Now, Gianetta, I’m going to put a liquid in your eyes. It’s completely harmless, in fact, it will feel just like your natural tears. Just look to the left for me— to the left, dear. That’s right.”

  Gia tried not to see the nurse’s hands so unbearably close, then blinked uncontrollably as something dripped into one of her eyes.

  “One more time.”

  The second time was not so bad.

  “No, don’t blink it out. Just keep your eyes open. That’s right. Open your mouth. This has got to go under your tongue.”

  She slipped a thin object between Gia’s lips. It tasted metallic, with a sour tang that reminded her of licking a battery. She could feel a line of spittle drip down her chin, but could do nothing about it.

  “Now, Gianetta, I’m going to show you some pictures. All you have to do is look at them. You don’t have to say anything, o
r do anything. Just try to focus on them. Don’t worry about what they are. Some of them may be a little upsetting, but remember, they're just pictures.”

  Gia felt herself tensing again, and once again, tried to force herself to relax.

  “Can you see here?” The nurse was holding up a card, with a big black “X” on it.

  Gia tried to nod, but of course, her head could not move at all.

  “Yes,” she said instead.

  “Cadet Dunson, are you ready? We are on stage five now.”

  She held up another picture. It was hard to see what it was, with the light glaring in her eyes, but after a moment Gia made out that it was a photograph of a cat.

  A new picture took its place, this one of a squirrel.

  Each time she held up a new picture, Nurse Lily looked at Gia’s eyes, then to the side, at what Gia guessed was the glass eye, and called out a number. Gia could hear the keyboard clicking as Cadet Dunson typed it in.

  The next picture was of a squirrel as well, but this one was dead. Recently dead, and probably run over by a car.

  Then, an open hand.

  A hand, holding a feather.

  The feather by itself.

  Then a series of abstract patterns. Lines, and crosses, and dots.

  The probe in her mouth made her salivate, spit pooled in her mouth, and her neck was beginning to ache.

  Another picture— a hammer on a white-tiled floor.

  Then the empty hand again.

  A naked woman, clutching her upper arm, blood trickling from between her fingers.

  A glass of milk.

  A fish, split open to the spine.

  A tooth.

  A cracked teacup.

  An egg.

  The images repeated, each time in a different sequence.

  At last, Nurse Lily nodded.

  “Good. That’s the lot,” she said, snapping off the lights.

  She released the forehead strap, then drew the contraption away from Gia’s head and folded it back out of sight.

  “All done. Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  When her hands and arms were free, Gia rubbed her face, then hugged herself, shivering.

  She saw that she’d been right about the glass eye. There was a flat, leather-bound box open on the bed beside her, holding row upon row of very lifelike eyeballs, each with a small number engraved on the white.