“Kath, this is ground-breaking stuff going on here. I’d explain but you wouldn’t understand-”
I interrupted. “No, Bob. You’re the one that doesn’t understand. Look forget it. If you can’t wait a week then that’s it. Forget it.” I hung up and sagged back against the chair. “What a git. Did you hear that? Couldn’t wait a week to get a new sample of particles.”
The phone rang again. Jimmy made a move to answer it, but I got there first. I was in no mood for a belligerent scientist. “What?”
“If you don’t let me get a sample I’m going to the press.”
I sat up. “Why would you do that? If you take it to the press you’ll ruin it for everyone.”
“This invention deserves to be out there and available for everyone.”
“Don’t you understand, if it became public you’d never get close to the machine again. It’d either be swallowed up by some government organization we’ve never heard of, or it would be swamped with the sick.”
“Just let me get my sample and we don’t have to worry about either of those scenarios.”
“Are you really that much of an asshole? Really? This is your solution?”
I was about to hang up again when Jimmy caught my arm and snatched the phone from me. He put the handset on speaker and said, “Look if you went to the press there’s a good chance they’d label you as a loony and you’d never be taken seriously as a scientist again.”
“I’ll tell them about the church.”
“Okay. Where is the church?”
There was silence from the other end for a moment. “I’ll tell them about you two.”
“And what are we going to tell them?” I said.
“What church?” Jimmy smirked at me. “I don’t know anything about a church.”
There was another pause. Then Bob said, “Fine. I’ll wait a week and then I’m phoning back, and you’d better give me access then.”
Bob hung up.
Jimmy put the handset back in the cradle. “Don’t look so concerned. Bob’s not going to do anything. He doesn’t want to lose the machine any more than we do.”
I nodded, but privately I wasn’t so sure.
37
Barred
Before the sun had properly come up I was at the church. I didn’t bother with the hatch this time. Instead I triggered the lid, slipped off my shoes and climbed in. I’d forgotten how comforting the foam was as it expanded to hold me. I raised my left hand and placed my palm on the panel in the lid.
The pod sealed me inside and the machine said, “Patient recognized. Scan initiating.”
I felt hollow. It should be Sally in here. Not me.
“Diagnosing.”
This used to excite me. Like unwrapping a Christmas present, one that you were pretty sure of, but wouldn’t know for certain what it was until the paper came off.
“Two tumors found in the liver of 19mm and 10mm.”
At least they hadn’t grown since the last scan.
“Session four of the five recommended. One remaining to fix cancer sites. One to reverse the stoma.”
I sighed. How many sessions would Sal need? How many to make her whole again?
“Begin session?” the machine asked.
“Yes,” I said.
Vibrations moved along my body. Now I had a clue as to how the machine worked, I imagined the air in the pod being pumped with nanoparticles. Saw them entering my body with each breath. Maybe they settled on the skin and wormed their way into my capillaries? The area around my liver went warm as the vibrations concentrated on that area. Sally’s liver was failing. She was the one that needed this. Not me.
The machine stopped. “Session complete. Final session in three days’ time.”
The lid opened and I lay there for a long time staring at the ceiling.
Somehow I had to get Sally here now I knew it worked again. The fact that my body was now clear of cancer, a prospect I had thought would never again apply to me, didn’t make me jump around shrieking with joy. I didn’t crumple and cry with relief. I didn’t really experience any emotions, just an emptiness that made me sad.
I got to the hospital early and found Sally asleep. The third bed was filled now. A young woman lay there, and if I had to guess, she’d been the victim of a horrific road accident.
But Sally was my concern. Her skin had gone from merely jaundiced to an awful deep yellow color. Her breath crackled, and she struggled with each one. A clip on her finger was monitoring her pulse and oxygen levels. Even with the mask on, the percentage of oxygen in her system wasn’t going above eighty-five percent, her pulse staying above one hundred. The worst part was the smell. There was a scent about her that was musky. It filled the room, emanated from her skin and tainted her breath. The odor of an approaching death.
Time was running out.
A nurse came in, and I called her over. “Would it be possible for me to put Sally in a wheelchair and take her outside for some fresh air?”
“Sorry, but your sister is far too poorly for that.” She turned around and attended to the new arrival.
I’d seen so many movies where patients were freed from hospitals. It seemed so easy. Put some day clothes on them, help the patient limp out. Put them in a wheelchair and simply push them out. Get a friend to help and force their way out.
“Hey Sally.” I stroked her arm, trying to wake her up.
She groaned and her eyes flickered open.
“I can make you better. You just need to trust me. Can you stand?”
Sally gave me a weak sarcastic look and without saying a word squeezed my hand. Her grip was so weak I almost missed it.
“Okay. Then I’m going to get a wheelchair. Be right back.”
I went to the corridor and spied a chair. Checking that the nurses were otherwise occupied, I took it back to the room.
Over the last couple of days Sally had acquired more tubes. She now had a catheter and as I lifted the bed covers, I realized she was wearing an adult nappy. A faint smell of poo met my nose. She had a nutrients drip and a saline drip. There was a morphine pump that I assumed the nurses were administering, because I didn’t think Sally had the strength for the button. All these wires and tubes. How was I going to get her in the chair?
As I tried to help her sit up I realized they’d hooked her up to a heart monitor. More wires emerged from under her hospital nighty and fed to pads stuck to various places on her chest.
“Come on. I’m going to need you to help. Do you want to live?”
Sally’s mouthed the word, “Yes,” from under her oxygen mask.
I unhooked the bag of urine and found a place to hang it on the wheelchair. I got the drips swapped over. Hoping some kind of alarm wouldn’t blare out, I unplugged the heart monitor. I waited for a loud sound, but none came. It kept doing its thing. Must have a battery pack, I decided and unsure how I was going to push the wheelchair and the heart monitor at the same time started to help Sally into the chair.
“What do you think you’re doing?” The nurse came in, put the tray of meds she was carrying on a counter and came at me. “Sally is very sick, you’re going to kill her if you try and move her.”
“But you don’t understand, I need to get her out of here.” I tried to wrestle her off Sally.
The nurse reached over and pressed a red button. Another nurse came running into the room.
“Call security. Now!”
“No, you don’t understand, I can make her better.” I grabbed at Sally. If I could get her in the chair, I could wheel her out, before security came.
“Are you insane? She needs to be in a hospital.” The nurse put herself in between me and Sally. Her strength surprised me. I couldn’t get past her no matter what I tried.
Two men came in, their arrival far quicker than I had thought possible. They flanked me, each grabbing an arm and dragging me away from Sally.
“No, you can’t do this! You’ll kill her. I need to get her out of here. I’ve got a
machine, I can mend her!” I screamed at the nurses as the security men dragged me away.
They took me to a small room where I had to give my details and was told if I stepped foot inside the hospital again I would be arrested. My picture was taken and I had to sign away my rights to use that hospital. With the paperwork finished, the security men escorted me out the main doors and watched as I made my way to my car.
“Bastards!” I shouted and kicked a curb. They were still keeping an eye on me. I flicked them a two finger salute, but the pair of them merely raised their eyebrows.
I sat in the car and decided I’d leave when I was good and ready. My phone rang and I checked the screen to see Wendy was on the line. Shit. The hospital must have phoned her. I could ignore her call. Turn off my phone and not go home. But if I could convince Wendy, take her to the machine, show her what it was capable of then maybe she’d help me get Sally there.
“Hello?”
“What the hell do you think you were up to? Do you realize you could have killed her?” Wendy screamed though the phone, I had to hold the handset away from my ear.
“Wendy, I have a plan. Let me come and get you. I’ve got to show you something. I’ve got a machine. I can fix Sally. Make her better, like none of this happened. You have to trust me.”
“A machine? You’ve got a machine?” She let out a sharp laugh.
“Yes, I do. I’ll come and get you and show you.”
“Oh yes, sounds perfectly normal. Let me get my coat.”
Thank God. If I could get Wendy on board, together we stood a chance of getting Sally there. “What a relief-”
“You think I’m serious? Kathy, you almost killed Sally today. All her vitals are worse. She was just beginning to beat this thing, and you’ve made everything worse.”
“But Wendy, I’ve got a machine, I can fix her.”
She laughed again. “You’re as crazy as my sister.”
“I’m not, this is real. Let me take you there.”
“Understand me. I’m not going anywhere with you. You’re not going to go anywhere near my sister. In fact stay away from all of us.”
“No, Wendy…”
She ended the call.
“Shit.” I hit the steering wheel. This was not the way this was supposed to go.
38
Sally
The phone rang at five fifty-three the next morning.
I answered, knowing whose voice would greet me.
“Kathy, I thought you should know. Sally has died. She stopped breathing about half an hour ago.”
“Oh Wendy. I’m so sorry.”
Wendy started sobbing. “She’s at peace now.”
Jimmy got out of bed and put his arms around me. I started to weep at his touch.
“She’s with Dad now,” Wendy said, her voice breaking.
Through the tears I thanked her for calling. I hung up and collapsed crying against Jimmy.
39
A New Future
Four months later:
“Come on, kids, time to go.” I checked the clock, we were going to be late if they didn’t hurry up.
I dashed upstairs and found Lucy on the footstep examining her teeth in the mirror.
“Are they clean, Mummy Kath?” she asked and leaned in, teeth bared. The mirror fogged up and hid her image. She turned to me and opened wide for me to check.
“They are perfect,” I said and tossed her the hand towel to dry her face. “Come on, you’re going to be late.”
Peter was in his room, digging through the mess for an exercise book. “I can’t find my maths book. I’m going to get a lunchtime detention if I don’t have it.”
I couldn’t believe that in three short months, Peter had managed to create so much mess. “Come on, move over.” Kneeling down I shoveled through the clothes and toys and pulled out a blue book. “Here it is!”
“Thanks.” He shoved it in his school bag. “Can you find my English book now?”
Somehow I got them to school just as the bell went. Lucy gave me a long hug then ran off after her brother. Nerves fluttered in my tummy. Today was the day I would finally pass on the key. I put the car in gear and drove off towards the motorway.
Twenty minutes later I pulled into the car park outside the oncology building at Clatterbridge. For weeks I’d been thinking about who I wanted to give the key to. Janie said she’d picked me because I reminded her of her mother when she was young. Her finder picked her because she looked like his daughter. What was I looking for? A newly-retired person? A really sick person? A young person? A man? A woman? It was too much responsibility. Whoever I picked would be lucky and that meant I’d be allowing others to die or face the long battle without the help of the pod.
By the entrance there was the usual scattered group of smokers. One person sat in a wheelchair, hooked up to an IV, pulling her dressing gown around skinny legs with one hand whilst holding a cigarette with the other. A gaunt man sat on the bench puffing away. I certainly wasn’t going to help one of them. They weren’t even trying to beat this disease. I thought about going straight up to the Delamere Ward where I used to go, but decided what I really needed first was a cup of tea.
Sitting outside the café on the ground floor, I realized I was in the best place possible to patient-watch. Nursing my tea, I studied people as they came in the entrance and made their way to various destinations in the hospital. Most had a partner with them, a husband, wife, adult child or friend. It was easy to pick out the poorly one.
About half an hour after I’d sat down, and still no closer to making a decision, I watched as a young mum came into the hospital pushing a child of around Lucy’s age in a wheelchair. It was hard to tell whether the child was a girl or boy, they were so thin, so pale, their skin the shade of an antique porcelain doll. The child wore a colorful scarf to cover their scalp, and a drip line snaked out from a sleeve and up to a bag of medicine hung from an elevated hook.
I thumbed the key, watching as the mother and child went towards one of the downstairs wards. This was it. My heart pounded, my breath grew short. The key now clenched in one hand, I got up and followed them down the hall.
The Headlines
Two years later:
22nd Oct – Could nanoparticles be curing us in the next decade? Breakthrough in nanotechnology as scientists cure tumor-ridden mice.
Four years later:
10th October – English scientist Dr. Robert Handler is surprise winner of the Nobel Prize in Medicine for work in medicinal use nanotechnology.
Five years later:
3rd May – Nobel Prize winning scientist Dr. Robert Handler unveils prototype for a miraculous healing scanner. Using nanotechnology most illness can be cured with just a few painless sessions. Hailed the most important invention of all time. Handler is lauded.
12th September – Nobel Prize winner Dr. Robert Handler outed as a fraud. Miracle machine used to con investors out of millions proved to be a fake.
24th September – Shamed scientist Dr. Robert Handler stripped of his Nobel Prize.
30th September – Disgraced scientist Dr. Robert Handler found dead in his home after suspected suicide. The police aren’t looking for anyone in connection with his death.
Six years later:
15th January – Eighty-nine year old Oscar winning actor Steve Williams in remission from terminal lung cancer despite chain smoking for over seventy years. Puts his miraculous recovery down to eating well and a positive attitude.
About the Author
Lisa C Hinsley’s career has been varied, working as an architectural technician, a pet sitter, a pharmacy supervisor and most recently a carer/companion for elderly ladies, all the while writing when she can. Born in Portsmouth in 1971, Lisa grew up in England, Scotland, and America. She now lives on the Wirral, in northwest England, with her husband, three children, four cats and a dog.
You can find out more about Lisa C Hinsley here:
Website: www.lisahinsley.weebly.com
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Twitter: @LisaCHinsley
If you enjoyed That Elusive Cure, please let Lisa know at [email protected] and leave a review on the book’s page.
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