Going Through the Change

by Samantha Bryant

  “Let me try something else.” Cindy crossed the lab to the desk under the window and pulled something out of the top left-hand drawer. “Stand over there,” she ordered, gesturing at a wall lined in soft white cushioning. Patricia obeyed. “Now turn around, so your back is to me.”

  Patricia stood still, waiting. She heard a sound she felt she ought to be able to identify, sort of a “shoom.” At almost the same time, she felt an impact on her left shoulder. She spun around, excited, “I felt that!”

  There was Cindy Liu, lowering a handgun with a silencer, and stepping out from behind a policeman’s riot shield.

  “You shot me?” Patricia growled with anger. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  Cindy smiled, an ear-to-ear grin that made her look like an evil twelve-year-old. “I’m going to need to get a blood sample and a few more scrapings. This is amazing!”

  om! Guess what?” Helen turned from the window where she’d been standing and thinking, sipping the coffee she had snuck out to buy from Starbucks. Quickly, she dropped the labeled cup inside an oversized ceramic mug that had been on the counter and hoped her daughter wouldn’t notice the disposable cup from the evil company. She turned and put on her best curious face.

  Mary was practically fluttering; she was so animated. Helen hoped she wasn’t in love. The last one was almost twenty years older than her and had been an exercise in biting her tongue for Helen.

  “Dr. Liu is coming to Our Market! If you come back to work with me this afternoon, you can meet her.”

  Helen breathed out. Good. Not about a man this time.

  Helen must’ve looked blank because her daughter went on. “You know, the lady who makes the supplement. The one that helped so much with your hot flashes?”

  “Oh! And she’ll be there today? I do have a few questions for her. Let me go get my purse.” Why not? She didn’t really have anything else to do.

  An hour or so later, she was seated in an outdoor picnic area that had been temporarily re-arranged into a sort of forum. There was a makeshift podium under the large cedar, and the benches and tables formed a loose sort of semicircle around it. Helen sat almost exactly in the middle—alone. She hoped someone else would show up. She was early. She’d had to come early to share a ride with Mary because Mary didn’t see the sense in two people driving separately to the same place. “Wasteful.” So, she had arrived with an hour or so to kill.

  She’d circled the tiny market twice, buying overpriced lip balm she didn’t need, the little gluten-free bag of cookies she was nibbling on now, and an ice tea that was oddly pink but not that bad with enough of that weird brown raw sugar they had. That left forty-five minutes. She’d already read all the magazines. They were the same ones all over Mary’s apartment. She should’ve brought her laptop. They had wifi, more reliable than Mary’s, and she could’ve caught up on her e-mail and checked to see if she had any showings upcoming.

  The office had automatically given her a week off as soon as she’d reported the fire. After all, there were more agents than buyers in this market. Helen knew they were hoping she’d just retire and leave it to the Barbie dolls and former athletes. Their solicitude was insulting. Those glossy young professionals didn’t understand how she out-sold them year after year.

  Helen knew part of her success was her age. People trusted what she said. She seemed like someone’s mom, rather than like someone who was trying to sell you a new car you didn’t need. She wasn’t slick. She played to those strengths. She wore sneakers. People liked that.

  After a while, a woman came and sat beside her, chomping on some kind of rolled up Asian thing. Helen estimated the woman as forty-five years old. Chinese-American. Some kind of Asian-American, anyway. She wondered if she might be related to Dr. Liu. Maybe her daughter? She wore her hair in that same bob Helen remembered from the picture on the box of Surge Protector supplements, but this woman didn’t wear glasses. She was pretty in an unpracticed sort of way. She didn’t appear to be a woman who spent a lot of time on her appearance, but she also wasn’t a slob. There was something poised about her that made Helen feel a little frumpy.

  “Smells good,” Helen said conversationally, gesturing at the roll the woman was eating. “Did you buy that here?”

  The lady nodded, holding a hand in front of her mouth and said, “It’s a samosa. They make decent ones here.”

  Helen nodded politely. Mary had brought some of those home for dinner two nights ago. Helen had choked half of one down, claimed she wasn’t hungry, and snuck out later for a fast food burger. She knew she should eat healthier, but all the whole grain, gluten-free, vegetarian stuff made her want to run for the border. “Are you here for the talk?”

  The lady nodded, continuing to chew.

  “I don’t know much about this Dr. Liu, but I’ve been taking one of her supplements: Surge Protector.”

  The lady was suddenly much more interested. She turned in her seat, regarding Helen with avid eyes. “Does it work for you?”

  “It really does. It’s almost like a cooling ray. It feels strange but really does take care of the hot flashes.”

  “How does it feel?” The woman seemed really interested now. Maybe she was thinking of taking it herself. She seemed too young, but maybe she was just well preserved.

  “Well, the first time I took it, it started with a tingling in the top of my head and then sort of melted down my body in fingers of coolness. Weird, like I said, but very quick and very effective.”

  “So, where did the heat go?”

  Helen started. That was a weird question. A question that had been bothering her, nagging at the back of her mind. Especially since the little fires seemed to still be following her. She’d had to put another out one in the bathroom just that morning. “Interesting you would ask that. It is definitely like the heat leaves my body entirely.” She thought about the way she directed the heat, gave it a direction to flow. She wondered again about her condo fire, and how it started, and how she’d come out unscathed.

  The woman looked at her. There was something unsettling in her gaze. Something measuring and analytical. Helen smiled, disarmingly, she hoped. “I’ve started taking it daily, just sort of proactively. I’ve had fewer hot flashes, and when I get them they’re not as severe. It’s like the pills gave me control over the heat. I can just visualize the heat leaving me and it does.”

  “Visualizing, huh?”

  Helen nodded.

  “Any side effects?” The lady wasn’t making eye contact now. Her entire body language had changed. She was tense. She appeared to be watching the small white dog digging at the roots of the rhododendron, but Helen felt she was listening very intently to her, that Helen’s answer mattered a great deal.

  “Um,” she began. They were interrupted when a man stepped to the podium and began to thank them all for coming. Helen looked around and realized a small crowd of fifteen or so people had gathered while she’d been focused on her conversation.

  “So, without further ado, let me introduce Dr. Cindy Liu.”

  The woman next to Helen stood, smiled apologetically, and walked toward the podium.

  Helen wasn’t sure what she had expected Dr. Liu to be like, but this wasn’t it. She definitely appeared younger than she had in the picture on the box of Surge Protector pills. Helen wasn’t sure what to make of that, but, other than surprising youth, there was nothing particularly striking about Dr. Cindy Liu in person. She was small and thin but gave an impression of strength. Helen guessed the doctor must be about her own age, give five years or so. There was no visible gray in her hair, though, so either Dr. Liu was a devotee of a beauty salon somewhere or had lucky genes when it came to hair.

  Helen also wasn’t sure how she felt about the mild subterfuge Dr. Liu had just used to get her uncensored opinion. On the one hand, it was smart to take the opportunity to get unfiltered feedback on her products. On the other hand, it felt sneaky. While she hadn’t lied, she also hadn’t offered the truth. It would
be interesting to hear what this woman had to say.

  Dr. Liu smiled as she walked to the front. She looked at the small crowd of people and stepped around the podium. “Come,” she said, gesturing with her hand. “Let’s just make a circle of chairs up close. I’m too old to stand up here to talk to you when we could just sit and have a chat.”

  Helen hesitated only a moment and then joined the other Our Market customers tugging the chairs nearer each other until it looked like they might play musical chairs. Dr. Liu had apparently sent the young man who introduced her after some refreshments, because he re-appeared with a tray of small paper cups filled with a fruity smelling iced tea and served everyone before taking a seat himself.

  Dr. Liu sat and waited until everyone was resettled and then cleared her throat. Her voice was louder than it had been when she was talking to Helen individually, but not overpowering, just the right tone for a group this size. “Let me start by saying that conventional medicine is not as advanced as we might like to think. It does not have all the answers. It is definitely not harmless. There are nearly one hundred thousand deaths a year from medical mistakes.”

  Someone gasped and Dr. Liu looked approvingly in the gasper’s direction. “How many of you know someone who has suffered at the hands of so-called ‘modern medicine?’” After a brief pause, Helen noted that nearly everyone had raised a hand―herself included. “Would anyone care to tell their story?” Eight of the sixteen people shot their hands into the air. Helen smiled to herself. Dr. Liu knew her audience. Our Market customers loved to share what they thought they knew.

  During the telling of the tale, Dr. Liu gave every appearance of watching the speaker, a white haired man whose voice shook with emotion as he described the misdiagnosis and untimely death of his wife. Although she seemed to be listening attentively, somehow Helen felt as if the doctor was really watching her. She shifted a little in her seat. Wasn’t it a little late in the day to be so warm? She shifted some more and groaned a little to herself. What terrible timing for a hot flash. There was no discreet way to excuse herself or slip out when they were all seated in a tight, little circle like this.

  She closed her eyes and breathed slowly. Breathing was the one part of yoga she had taken to when her daughter had bought her those classes last year. Relaxation and focus through breath control. She felt the now almost familiar icicle-like sensation moving down her head and arms and out her fingertips. She imagined the heat disappearing into the paper cup of tea she was still holding and felt the cup grow warm in her hand. The tea began to bubble and some rolled down the sides over her fingers. She could feel that the liquid was boiling hot, but somehow it didn’t actually hurt her hand.

  Helen opened her eyes. She could see steam rising from the disintegrating paper cup, and through the steam, Dr. Liu’s sharp gaze, focused on her.

  elen stood around what seemed like forever after the talk, waiting for the other audience members to take their personal moment with Dr. Liu. She felt strange, waiting like some kind of over-age fan-girl, but she knew the doctor had seen what she did with her heat. Once she knew the doctor had seen her, she had hardly heard a word of the talk. She wasn’t sure if she should be nervous or excited. It was like going on a blind date. She had no idea what was going to happen. It was thrilling.

  What did all these freaks and geezers have to say that was so important, anyway? It’s not like there was a book to get signed or anything. But Dr. Liu just nodded patiently through each tale of woe, like she had all the time in the world. The only sign of impatience Helen could see was that the doctor kept changing her position to keep Helen within sight at all times.

  She didn’t want Helen to walk off anymore than Helen wanted to leave without learning what Dr. Liu knew. Helen needed to be the last one to talk to her. So, she stood waiting.

  She hated waiting. It made her miss cigarettes. Cigarettes gave you something to do while you waited. But the rage of self-righteous youth would fall on her like acid rain if she dared light up here beneath the tree at the Market. No one smoked without irony anymore.

  Patience is a virtue, she reminded herself and then laughed at her own sanctimonious tone. Virtue is boring was more like it. She had just decided it wasn’t worth waiting when she felt a hand on her elbow, and there she was, the lady of the hour.

  “I think we need to talk,” Dr. Liu said, gesturing with her head toward the podium.

  Helen followed her. “You think?” Her laugh died in her throat when Dr. Liu just nodded curtly. Great, she didn’t have a sense of humor. This should be fun.

  “I’d love to run some tests with you. Would you come with me to my lab?”

  Helen’s eyebrows shot up. She had a vision of Dr. Liu, lightning crackling behind her head yelling, “It’s alive!” She decided not to share. “I drove here with my daughter, so I don’t have my car.”

  The doctor nodded. “I can give you a ride. It’s not far.”

  Helen considered for a moment. It was strange to think of going to a stranger’s home, but strange was getting to be ordinary. Who better than Dr. Liu to help her figure out what was going on? It was a risk. But, sometimes, risks paid off.

  Helen nodded. “Sure. Just let me tell my daughter where I’m going. You’d think she was my mother or something.”

  Dr. Liu’s impassive face killed the conspiratorial laugh, and Helen disguised it as a cough. Guess the good doctor didn’t have kids.

  A few minutes later, she was back in the parking lot, looking for the gray van Dr. Liu had described. Unfortunately, there were four similar vans in the parking lot. Helen was scrutinizing the bumper stickers, trying to guess if Dr. Liu was more likely to be “Another Mama for Obama” or the “Coexist” written in religious symbols. Luckily, it was neither. Dr. Liu pulled up in a beat-up van with no bumper stickers and rolled the window halfway down, where it became stuck. “Hop in,” she called, like they were teenagers on their way to the mall.

  Helen opened the door and hesitated before climbing in. The passenger seat was covered in a towel. Judging by the condition of the rest of the seats, Helen decided it would be best to sit on the provided towel. She pushed some small boxes and bags off to the side with her ankle as she got in, making room to set her purse down in the footwell. At the last minute, she decided she’d better hold the purse. One of the bags had been sticky in a soft and particularly disgusting way. Resting gingerly against the seat back, she reached back for the seatbelt, only to find a scrap of torn and jagged cloth. It looked like something had bitten through the strap.

  As discreetly as she could, Helen slid her fingers into the assist handle, or as her daughter called it, the “oh shit handle,” above the door. She was glad she did, because Cindy Liu drove like a crazy woman. She careened out of the parking lot like they were being chased and sped off through the quiet streets.

  Helen lost track of the direction pretty quickly. Dr. Liu took a strange route, cutting through parking lots and circling around. Helen was pretty sure they’d gone through the same intersection twice. She was now gripping the oh-shit handle fiercely enough that her fingers were beginning to hurt. She was just working up her nerve to comment on the ride, when Dr. Liu pulled into a hidden driveway and threw on the emergency brake. “Here we are!”

  Helen half-expected a castle on a lonely hilltop, but Dr. Liu’s house was a simple, white cottage. The plants around the house were grown up and untended, but the house seemed to be in good repair. The porch featured a couple of rattan chairs with floral cushions and a porch swing. The only oddity seemed to be the soaped-over windows of the basement.

  The house reminded Helen of the kind of house her mother once had, that everyone’s mother had. The real estate agent in her assessed the house automatically as lacking in curb appeal. It would need to be re-sided and landscaped to get a young couple to even look at it. Her guess was Dr. Liu had inherited it from her parents and hadn’t changed a thing since.

  “Come in! Come in!” Dr. Liu was gesturing from
the porch, where she stood holding the door open.

  The house was dim. Once Helen’s eyes had adjusted, she glanced around the room. It seemed perfectly ordinary at first. There were some slightly worn, old-fashioned furnishings of the sort Helen’s mother had favored—big, overstuffed, and covered in ugly floral upholstery. None of the lamps seemed to match the furniture or each other. The rug looked brand new, and the geometric pattern was at odds with the chintz and doily look the rest of the room featured. Helen now knew for certain that Dr. Liu had inherited the home and never bothered to make it her own.

  Gradually, Helen became aware of a fluttering, clucking sort of noise somewhere to the left of her. She turned her head, thinking Dr. Liu might have a pet bird or something. She found, instead, a mouse, floating in midair. The mouse seemed to be in some distress, wriggling frantically. Helen stared, fascinated. It looked like a perfectly ordinary mouse. What kind of trick could this be?

  When Dr. Liu returned from whatever corner she had disappeared to in those few seconds, she reached for the mouse. Taking it in her hands, she walked it over to a bird stand where she strapped the rodent’s leg to a small leather strap. Helen could see several other remnants of various straps, dangling from the stand, all chewed through.

  “Sorry. It’s one of my experiments. He has achieved flight, but he can’t control his movement. Maybe I should have tried a more intelligent lab animal.”

  Helen consciously closed her mouth, hearing her mother in her head, “Close your mouth dear, a Lady doesn’t show her surprise.” This day just kept getting more and more interesting.

  “My lab is in the basement. Shall we?” Dr. Liu stretched an arm toward a door, standing open off the living room, and then turned to lead the way.

  Given the condition of Dr. Liu’s car and home, Helen was surprised to see the lab looking, well, like a lab. It was a brightly-lit room, clean and institutional looking, full of white cabinets and metal racks of various sorts. As she let her gaze wander the room, she saw what she thought of as normal science stuff. Petri dishes full of gooey-looking samples were lined up on a long table against the wall. A rack holding test tubes was on a shelf above. A tall shelf held a variety of implements Helen recognized as Bunsen burners, a microscope, and beakers, and other things she wasn’t sure of the use for.