Kit

         I was huddled in the corner, behind the bed, shaking violently.  Can’t let them find me, I thought.  I’d run all the way home from the E.R., where I imagined Janice still waited.  When the hospital security guard turned away for a moment, I slipped out of the room where the doctor had left me.

          You know what they’ll do to you when they find you, don’t you? I heard the unseen voice whisper.  They’re going to use you as a guinea pig to test their Machine.

         Yes, I muttered.  I had suspected this for weeks, but it wasn’t until today that the strange voice confirmed it.  I had told Janice, thinking I could trust her.  She wanted me to warn the doctors at the clinic, but how could she know that the doctor I told my suspicions to was one of them.  I didn’t blame Janice; she just didn’t understand how widespread the conspiracy was.  I’d have to warn her, I thought.

         Suddenly I heard the front door open.  I froze, holding my breath.  “Kit, are you here?”  I heard Janice’s worried voice.  Before I could answer, she appeared in the bedroom door.  “There you are!  You had me worried sick.  Are you okay?”

         “Janice, we have to get out of here,” I began, then saw the two police officers behind her.  Betrayed!  I jumped to my feet and tried to barrel past them, but one grabbed me and held on firmly.

         I heard myself screaming incoherently.  I struggled furiously, but the two officers handcuffed me and dragged me out to the patrol car.  Janice slid in beside me and took my cold hands in hers.  Dimly, I heard her talking to me, but I couldn’t make out her words over the ungodly noise coming out of my mouth.  I tried, but couldn’t stop screaming.

         The car pulled into the E.R.’s garage and a nurse came to meet us.  I saw the syringe in her hand and panicked.  I couldn’t let her get me.  GET AWAY, the unseen voice shouted urgently, but there was no where to go.







         I slowly opened my eyes and looked around, confused.  I was in a small room with just a bed and a camera mounted in the corner.  I lay quietly for a moment, concentrating.  For now, I decided, the unseen voice was silent.  I could hear a murmur of voices, like at a party—I could hear many voices, but no specific words.  I got up and went to the door.  Locked.  I banged on it with my fist.

         “Somebody open the door.  Please, tell me what I’m doing here.”  Were they going to start the experiments? I heard a key turn in the lock.  Stepping back, I watched as a young woman opened the door.

         “Oh, good, you’re up.  My name is Nancy, Kit.  How are you feeling?  Do you know where you are?”

         I looked at her suspiciously.  No needles, that was good.  I studied her pleasant, seemingly friendly face, and said, “What are you going to do with me?  Why am I locked up?”

         “The doctor just wants to talk to you.  Nobody’s going to hurt you, I promise.  Don’t worry, you’re safe.”  Nancy smiled and held out her hand.  “Would you like to join the others in the day room?  Dr. Norris will be here soon to talk with you.”

         Without taking her hand, I slowly followed Nancy out of the room.  As we walked down the hall, I noticed the pastel prints on the walls and the soft colors of paint used to decorate.  As we walked, Nancy said, “I hope you’ll be comfortable here, Kit.  There’s a TV in the day room as well as in the group room, so there’s a couple of choices with what to watch.  We take turns choosing programs.  We have what we call occupational therapy as well as rec. time, so you get a chance to leave the unit as soon as you earn enough points.”

         “Am I still at St. Mary’s?” I asked.  I’d been to the hospital before, but I had never heard of a unit like this.

         Nancy laughed gently.  “Oh yes, Kit.  But we’re in a separate building from the main hospital.  This unit is for evaluation and treatment.  You shouldn’t be here too long.”

         I wondered if the Machine was behind one of the closed doors we passed.  Nancy seemed open and honest, but could I trust anyone?  Wait and see, I told myself.  “What did you mean by points?” I asked.

         “You get points in a lot of ways.” Nancy answered.  “Your sessions with the doctor get you the most points, but you also get them for things like showering daily, cooperating with the staff, getting along with the other patients, and so on.”  We entered a large room with two couches and a number of armchairs facing a big screen TV.  There was a table with a partially completed jigsaw puzzle on it, and at another table, two men were playing cribbage.

         I decided to pretend to cooperate, at least for now, and try to find an opportunity to escape.  “Can I get my cigarettes?  I don’t know who has them.”

         “I’m sorry, Kit, but the hospital has a no smoking policy.  We can ask Dr. Norris to order the patch for you, to make it easier.”

         “No pills,” I said quickly.  The voice, silent until now, suddenly spoke up.  That’s right, Kit.  No drugs.  You can’t trust them.  They’re part of it.  My hands flew to my ears, trying to block out the sound of that voice.  I saw Nancy’s mouth moving, but I couldn’t hear her.  She touched my arm, and I jerked away and ran into the next room.  Back against the wall, I tried to block out the voice and calm my pounding heart.  There’s only one way out, you know.  Death is better than being given to the Machine.  Do it.  Now, Kit.  It’s the only way.  But how, I thought frantically.  Then I saw the window.  Just before Nancy reached me, I ran over and slammed my fists through the glass, then twisted my wrists against the broken shards.  No points for me, I thought before I closed my eyes.







         I opened my eyes, then quickly shut them again.  Dammit, I thought, can’t I even die right?  Slowly opening my eyes again, I took in the powder blue walls and the IV stand next to the bed.  Trying to sit up, I realized that I was restrained, my wrists wrapped in padded cuffs and tied down.

         The door opened, and a woman in a white lab coat walked in.  Her name tag identified her as Dr. Norris.  “How are you feeling, Kit?”

         I turned my head to the wall without responding.  Instead of giving up, I heard her sit down in the chair next to the bed.  “Kit, I’m your doctor, Pat Norris, but please call me Pat.  We haven’t gotten off to a great start, but I want you to try to trust me. Can you tell me what happened?”

         I sighed.  It was obvious that she wasn’t going away.  I turned toward her. 

         “That’s better.  I like to face the people I’m talking to.  We’re going to do a lot of talking, Kit.  I want you to feel free to tell me whatever you want.  I’m not here to judge you; I’m just here to help you.”

         I studied her face.  She seemed sincere, and I wanted to trust her.  Suddenly, I blurted, “Do you know about the computer?”

         “Which computer?” she responded calmly.

         “The Machine.  He said they want to test it on me.”

         “No, I’ve never heard of it.  Who’s ‘he’?” she asked.

         I averted my eyes.  Could I, should I trust her?  I desperately wanted to tell her.  I had only told Janice, and look what happened.  I took a deep breath and said, “I don’t know who he is.  I can’t see him, I can just hear him.  He’s got a nice voice, kinda baritone, and he sounds so sure of himself, I just can’t not  believe what he tells me.”  I paused, then continued, “He told me that I had to die so that they wouldn’t get me.”  I studied Pat’s face carefully, looking for hostility or deceit, but only saw a friendly neutral expression.  The weight I didn’t realize was pressing on my chest lightened.  Maybe she was alright.

         Pat smiled.  “Thank you.  For trusting me, I mean.  I think we can keep you safe.  Would you do something for me?”  I hesitated, then nodded.  “If he speaks to you again, will you tell me or one of the staff?  No matter what he says, please tell us before you do anything else.  Will you do that for me?”

         I reluctantly nodded agreement, then she went on, “I’m going to have Nancy give you a shot,” she saw the look on my face, “don’t worry, it’s just something to help you relax.  It may even keep him quiet for awhile.  I’ll leave you for now.”  She stood, then paused.  “If I free your hands, can I trust you to be safe?”

         I nodded again, and she took off the restraints.  With that, she left, and I got a better look at the room.  I noticed another camera, again mounted in the corner of the room, and shuddered silently.  I tried, with limited success, to dismiss the suspicion, then turned my attention to the television in the opposite corner.  Turning it on, I flipped channels until I found an old episode of a semi-favorite sit-com, settled back, and tried to relax.  The bandages around my wrists itched, and I scratched at them absently.

         Nancy came in, a syringe in her right hand.  I stiffened and pulled back.  She smiled and gently spoke.  “It’s just the shot the doctor told you about.  It’s just to relax you.  Trust me, it’s not going to hurt you.”  Trust again, I thought.  Can I?  Finally, I submitted.  Did I have a choice?  Better to go with the flow.  For now, anyway.  In a few moments, I felt the medicine begin to flow through me.  Distantly, I wondered about the contents of the shot, but before I could form a complete thought, I slept.