Body Parts For Hire
By Artie Margrave
Copyright © 2012 Artie Margrave
Front Cover Design by Artie Margrave. All Rights Reserved
This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. Any resemblance to any person or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All Rights Reserved
No part of this eBook may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the express written consent of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Other Works By Artie Margrave includes:
Hunted: Jake The Ripper (a novelette)
The Curse In The Chest (a novella)
BODY PARTS FOR HIRE
LET me tell you my story and maybe you’ll have the good sense to change your mind and do as I tell you to. Listen carefully and don’t doubt what I say because all I’ll tell you is simply and completely the truth.
###
I was born into darkness the way all other humans are but while all others open their eyes to embrace the light, the earliest of which usually comes from the mother’s eyes and the mother’s smile, no matter how bright or dull, the happy faces, the sad ones, the disturbed, the anxious, the tired and all, mine opened to a darkness so deep that it is only surpassed by the one I presently am in. I never got those faces, the owner of that voice that squeaked for joy when I was held in tender arms, the smiles on those faces. I never saw them. As you’ve guessed, yes! I was blind from birth.
Mum and dad both found it difficult to take in at first, especially mum. She was a nurse, see, and very fastidious about health issues. She was the type that took the most minor of an outbreak of goose bumps seriously. Dad was a reality TV anchor on the show The Cancer Around You so you can guess he was also into health just as much as mum, although a little less so. David Rice. You ought to have heard of him if you are an ardent watcher of National Geography. I am not, and rightly so.
So like I said, they didn’t take it likely and took me for every medical examination they could before coming to the final and bitter truth that it was permanent. It was going to take a miracle to see… or a transplant. Mum didn’t want the pain of a transplant in my childhood so I lived all of those years in the darkness.
It wasn’t a bad childhood though. In fact, I loved every aspect of it, save for the part that I could not see. She was with me the whole time, mum, giving me the much needed attention that sometimes went over the brim and made me feel all choked up. She didn’t have a second child, me being the first. Her unparalleled attention was the best thing to have happened to me I now notice.
I was homeschooled by Dr. Ray Prentice, a retired educationalist, an old acquaintance of dad and professor with a degree in Literature. During my years with Prentice, I learnt and knew by heart every word of more than half of the totality of Shakespeare’s finished works. My favorite was King Lear. How I loved that tale. It was a play with a symmetric pattern to my situation; only the characters represented in the tale, especially the protagonist had control of their eyes but was blind to reason, making choices that cost him his life and that of his daughter. I was familiar too with Charles Dickens and Tom Sawyer. Prentice was proud of me. Said I was to become a fine young gentleman. Before he died much later.
Due to my blindness, as I, in my earliest years suspected, my other senses were very much improved, with particular references to my hearing, smelling and in many cases, tactile sensation. And I had amazing brain power, the proof of which I gave just before. My sampling of everything texture was incredibly precise.
As if touching and feeling objects, telling how long they’ve been at one place, correctly determining the weight of an object, knowing how many people have touched it and an approximation of where it has been, wasn’t enough, I could sample noises and the emotions in voices, no matter how squeezed someone tried to make them and I could recognize voices I’ve heard before. You think, isn’t this too much for my head? Like I said, I had amazing brain power.
All of these more than made up for my blindness. It gave me the confidence to conveniently move around the house. In time, my confidence grew out of my comfort zone, into the streets. I remember the first day mum discovered I’d been moving out of the house. There was nothing she didn’t say to me. She was very angry and she raved for hours but within those tempers I read lightheartedness. She was certainly happy I went out and came back home safe and sound. Somehow, she felt she could worry less.
Soon I began to move out more regularly. She gave me the liberty to do so. Sometimes I even did the groceries at the grocery store for her. Mum was always careful to add ‘be careful’ anytime I grabbed my stick. But with the senses I had, I needed no ‘be careful. I didn’t even need the walking stick. I simply used it to alert others that I was blind so I would not get bumped into and sometimes, made sure I was walking on the right path.
I walked along the streets as safely as everyone else, maybe even safer. I can scarcely mention the number of people, old and young alike that I’ve pulled back from the clutches of death because of untimely crossing of Main. I knew where every patrol was stationed, every restaurant, every parlor, the bakery and et cetera. I was a walking map.
Throughout the period of these developments, Dad was away on work stuff. His show, the one I talked about, had to do with a lot of locomotion. He travelled from place to place, doing interviews with cancer patients and the kind. There was a time he spent a little over two years in Africa. But he kept calling regularly. We spoke a lot over the phone and boy, did that man have stories for me. Tons of them.
Then one day, the calls stopped. I was seventeen at the time. I knew something had gone very wrong. At the time he was in Europe, somewhere in Ireland. Mum confirmed my suspicions. The tension in her voice when she spoke to me transcended ordinary worry. In the days that followed, that tension turned to hysteria. I did very little to console her.
I perceived that dad was gravely ill and she confirmed that when she eventually declared that she was going to be away for a few weeks. I asked if everything was okay and she very truly said no. She kept very little from me.
She hired a maid, Marie by name, to take care of my needs and the house and left. Marie and I rarely crossed paths, except when it was time to eat. She more or less spent her time keeping away from me. Oh, I should add that she was a real smoker too. She was no company. Every minute mum was gone, I hungered for her presence. She called regularly but her calls weren’t enough and she felt it because she kept telling me she was going to be back soon. I knew she wasn’t because her voice was filled with bottled up sadness and angst. I knew dad was going to die. When the time came, it happened.
Even though I never had much of him around, I was much shaken when mum told me over the phone. Her voice was a continuous sob. I realized I was going to miss him forever, that the place would not be the same again.
###
HEY, relax. I know but I’m just getting there. I had to tell that part so you will know where I came from; else you’ll never know how I got here.
###
SO dad died. Mum reduced the number of calls she sent me. I knew she was in pain but it added to the loneliness I felt in the house.
It became unbearable one day and I decided to take a stroll to put all of my worries out of my mind. Now I wish I’d just stayed at home. Then we will not be having this conversation.
Like I said, I took a
stroll, past the apothecary, past the grocery shop, past the restaurant and several other private buildings and I stumbled unto Main. There I had the most depressing moment of my life.
All the sounds, noises that I’d neglected and always dismissed as unimportant came rushing into my head. They just didn’t stop. From the smallest, numerous tap-taps of rubber-soled feet to the loudest revving of the broken down engine of a wagon, the muttering voices of people, some baritone, some slick, some very sweet, the whistling of leaves, the tinkling of bells of the opening and closing of bars and restaurants, that little kid laughing because he’d just received a chocolate bar, they all rang in my head. They made it impossible for me to think clearly. It was like nature mocked me.
An instant longing to see all of these things filled me up and left a little space for self-pity. I felt my eyes trying to secrete hot tears but I forced those tears back. A lingering pressure clamped down on my chest. I knew I was likely to lose my mental sanity if I remained there so I turned to go back and suddenly a hand pulled me almost off balance. It tugged me to the side.
I regained balance and angrily pulled the hand off my arm. It was soft, smooth, and somewhat sensitive. I knew instantly it belonged to a girl.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“Riley,” she answered. “You almost bumped into the fire hydrant.”
Riley Campbell. Her voice was something else, like melodic but still straight. It was an allure.
“Thanks,” I said.
She was silent for a while I thought she had left till she said, “D’you mind if I walk you home, if you’re going home, that is?”
“No, of course not,” I answered. At that moment, a feeling yearned from inside me, of companionship. With the boldness with which she spoke to me, I assumed I wasn’t the first blind guy she’d met. I believed she was someone I could actually be close to, be friends with. How very wrong I was.
She said she was sixteen, lived with her single mum in a cottage a place not very far from mine, about two streets and her mum was a medical practitioner. I told her I just had a single mum too, that dad just recently died. She was all sorry and compassionate and full of positive words I forgot all about my depression.
We talked at length. She told me of other guys like me she’d met. Said I was the cutest of them all. Little did I know what I was getting myself into.
###
AND this was how it all started, how I got to be here.
###
I and Riley became quite close that I forgot I had a maid named Marie at home. I spent most of my time outside at greenhouses and restaurants with her. She loved lilies and soft rock music. Every day I got to know her more.
I still received calls from mum though. She was being held back to fill some forms and certificates for dad. She always said she missed me. I only told her I missed her right back only pretentiously because I really didn’t and I was afraid to admit it.
It was a Thursday afternoon that she asked the question that would render me what I am today. We were returning from bowling. Knocking pins over without seeing them was a lot of fun. They say if you have no targets or aims, you definitely can’t miss. I hit strikes upon strikes.
“If you were asked one wish right now that would be granted, what would it be?”
The question sounded sincere, simple. There certainly was no thinking twice about the answer to give.
“Trick question,” I replied, “to see of course.”
She was quiet for a while and then said, “I thought you’d say so.”
“But why did you ask that?” I asked, very curious.
“You know I can grant you that wish, right now,” she replied.
Her voice sounded honest, truthful but I thought she was playing some kind of game. I played along.
“So what do I have to do, lady genie?” I asked. I heard her laugh.
“You only have to submit to an eye transplant,” she said and went on to explain. “I told you mum was a practitioner. Well, she does surgery and stuff and she does it on her own. That’s how good she is.”
“You mean your mum owns her own theater?”
I felt her nod. “Yes. Creepy place. It’s coupled with the basement.”
“Are you entirely serious? I thought this was a game?”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
“Hard to tell,” I answered.
“Well, she just came in possession of eyes and she’s looking for patients to give them to. Just at the perfect time too. So I told her about you.”
At this time I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stiffen. “And?”
“And she said it was alright if you come and just so you know, she’s not collecting a dime.”
I could barely contain my joy. It was too good to be true. I mean what were the odds? I could still remain blind or I could take this chance and see or still stay blind, depending on the outcome. Did I mention that she mentioned it was free? So I got my act together.
“Am I so going to do this thing!” I said. “How do we start?”
“I’ll meet you here tomorrow,” she said. “I’ll need to inform mum you’ll be coming.”
That was fair enough.
“Also, don’t tell anyone,” she added. “Let it be your surprise to them, especially to your mum. Will she be overjoyed?”
That was brilliant enough too. How foolish I was. How misguided.
###
THAT very morning I received a call from mum. She was in the best mood I’d heard her since dad died. She told me she was finalizing the paperwork and that we’d be together soon. She estimated her arrival to the following week. She said she was bringing home a surprise for me. I was glad. In the depths of my mind, I told her I had an even bigger surprise.
With that in mind, I left for the place I was supposed to meet Riley. I met her there, even more expectant than I was. With my hand in hers, she led me to her place.
The path to her place was unusually winding. I had to make about fifteen turns from my house to get there. From Main, that’s about twenty-seven.
The area had the strong smell of sewage disposal plants. It was a sickening smell. I had to clamp my fingers over my nose to keep from retching. This was the first time I wished my developed senses had just turned off. I also perceived the metallic scent of industry but with the place devoid of noises, I believed whatever company had lain there usually closed before two-thirty p.m. (very unusual) or it had been shut down. The noiselessness of the place was particularly disturbing to me. It was like some sort of panic hung in the air pensively, waiting for the moment to attack.
I took comfort in that very soon, I was going to have my eyes back and see everything that made this part of town feel weird. The place was languid. It probably had blocks of ramshackle buildings.
Riley’s hand over mine was the only thankful warmth I felt. I wondered why someone as warm and amiable as her was staying around this kind of place. It didn’t feel right. Now I know it was right and Riley; she’s anything but warm.
She took me to her house. She knocked. The way her knuckles rapped on the door told me it was wooden and had holes in them. Echoes sang from all the corners of the house.
I heard footsteps coming and then the door opened.
“Well, hello there, aren’t you my girl’s friend?” A charming voice said.
“Good day, ma,” I managed to say.
“Well, ain’t it now?” Mrs. Campbell said rhetorically.
“So I brought him, mum,” Riley said.
“Take him to the basement,” Mrs. Campbell said. “I can’t wait to start.”
I never came back out.
###
THE moment I entered this house, I felt a foreboding. I sensed a warning. A part of my being practically screamed at me to get the hell out. I damned it and stayed but I was restless.
A musty smell filled my nose. I had faint idea of what it was but it smelled like some certain chemical and got stronger the lower we descended to th
e basement. Riley led me every step of the way, opened a creaking door and with me, entered.
Here, the smell was very strong, thick and nauseous. Many times I felt the air in my throat clog, making it difficult to inhale or exhale. I coughed severally. The chill in the room was absolute, so much that the warmth I was receiving from Riley’s fingers extinguished. My confidence changed to diffidence. I’d never been in anywhere stranger, eerier in my life.
“I’ll be with you in a moment,” Riley’s mum called from upstairs.
Riley settled me on what I felt was an operation bed. At that moment, all I wanted was to get this thing done and get the hell out of here, no offense to Riley.
Soon, I heard the heavy thumps of Mrs. Campbell coming down the stairs and then she entered the room and closed the door. Then her footsteps came towards me and I felt her breath splash intermittently on my face. I detected she was checking my eyes. I wasn’t too sure but I believed I smelt decay.
“Pretty nasty,” her voice suddenly sounded distant. “You need this more than anyone else. Um… sweetheart, can you do me a favour by preparing dinner for us tonight? Just you?”
“Sure,” Riley answered, squeezed my hand affably as if saying ‘it was going to be fine’ and walked out. The door closed behind her.
“Now my young lad,” I suddenly noticed we were alone, “I’ll be starting the operation soon. I’ll give you an analgesic. It’ll be a powerful painkiller and will knock you to sleep for about six hours. It’s all the time I need to successfully complete this operation. And after that, in five days, your sight will most certainly be restored.”
“Five?” I asked. “Why five?”
“Riley didn’t tell you?” she asked.
I shook my head.
“Guess there are other things she didn’t tell you. Well, the five days is so that you can heal properly before you begin to use the eyes. I need you here so I can monitor your improvements. If there’s someone you left at home, I think you ought to call and tell them you won’t be back till then.”
It seemed like a wise option. I picked my phone and called Marie. My phone was voice-activated, see. It took five minutes before she picked. I’d never known anyone else so irresponsible. When she finally picked, I told her I wasn’t coming home very soon. The irony of it. I told her I would be gone five days. She asked where I was and if I could take care of myself like she really cared. I realized I didn’t know the address but I told her when I found out I would call and send it.