Chapter 5
When the alarm on the viewing screen alerted me this morning, I did not respond with my usual irritation. I bounded up from the bed, thankful that Monday had arrived. Catching a glimpse of my reflection in the highly polished plastic window in my bedroom I paused, startled by what I saw. A happy young man – with highly erratic bed-hair – grinned back at me. It was not the image I normally saw and knew exactly why he looked so pleased with himself.
“You’re a stalker,” I informed him firmly, but he didn’t seem bothered. His grin widened at my words.
Knock, knock.
I turned slightly towards the door. The sound of Mother’s reminder to get up didn’t even flatten my mood this morning. Shaking my head at the fool I saw in my window, we both turned away.
Breakfast was a quiet affair, as usual, although I was a little surprised at this. I had expected Mother would have a lot more questions about why I’d suddenly wanted to be entered onto the extended Medic rotation, rather than awaiting the fast-track option I’d initially signed up for. Even as I’d started explaining on Friday my fictitious desire to get more hands-on experience, thinking that my academic record was all well and good but could not be compared to real life knowledge, she’d already been agreeing with me and offering to smooth over any issues at The Clinic on my behalf.
As a rule, Mother had questions for everything I did. She often appeared frustrated by the information I gave her – or lack of it, more likely – so today was a completely new experience. She seemed…happy. It was an odd thing to see, as I was used to her being rather unemotional. The more disturbing thing for me was the way her behaviour had affected my mood. For no good reason I could discern, her unexpected happiness made me feel uneasy. It was as though her happiness was a bad thing.
Breakfast was a familiar mix of bland cereals today with a soya-based liquid to soften them. There may have been dried fruit pieces in it, but I couldn’t say for certain. I barely noticed the actual contents of my bowl, hurrying through my breakfast eager to escape from Mother’s unsettling presence. I was in such a rush I forgot my vitamin tablet.
“Balik?” Mother called out to me as I dashed out of the room, heading towards the bedroom.
I turned.
“You need your tablet.”
“Oh yes,” I mumbled, leaning back around the corner and reaching out for it, thinking that she would pass it to me from the table where it was hidden behind the half-drunk glass of juice. The distance between us was very small, but she did not move to collect the pill. Standing perfectly still next to the table, Mother’s eyes were abruptly blank after their earlier animation. I was confused, and following a few uncomfortable seconds of silence I realised that she was not going to pass me the vitamin.
Maybe she hadn’t understood the meaning behind my gesture. I stepped back into the living space and walked past Mother to the table. The tablet was still half-hidden behind the juice glass and I reached over to pick it up. Circling towards the bathroom again, I’d taken two steps when Mother spoke.
“Can you take it in here, please?” She asked, her tone was neutral but the words were clipped, as though she resented having to speak them. It felt more like a command than a question.
I turned for a third time, confusion reigning now. Why did I need to take it in here? It didn’t seem like it should matter where I was so long as I’d taken my daily dose. And, it was only a vitamin tablet after all – surely I’d survive one day even if I did forget it? Mother’s behaviour was getting odder by the minute.
“You have to take the tablet with juice rather than water,” Mother said, nodding at the capsule clasped in my hand, “it helps it break down for easier digestion.”
I nodded automatically and went back to the table for my juice glass, noting that Mother was watching my actions carefully. Placing the small tablet on my tongue – it now felt huge because of the strange significance it had taken on in the past minute – I glugged down a mouthful of juice. The pill remained resolutely stuck to my tongue, resisting the torrent of orange liquid that sloshed around my mouth, trying to force it down my throat. Another mouthful and the tablet still had not dislodged and the glass was now empty.
Why did I do it?
I don’t know. But, instead of getting something else to drink, or even swallowing the vitamin dry because it was easily small enough to do that, I pushed the tablet to the side of my mouth and left the room. Mother seemed content, now that I’d taken my dose, and allowed me to escape to the privacy of the bathroom without further questions.
Closing the door behind me and locking it firmly I opened my mouth and pulled out the offending tablet. It sat in my open palm: small and unassuming with only a tiny amount dissolved around the edges from my attempts to wash it down my gullet.
Why was it so important? I prodded the pill, as though that might magically release the answer for me. It didn’t.
Through my bewilderment over the whole episode I was conscious of the unsettling notion that Mother had answered unspoken questions straight from my mind. I replayed the conversation in my head, trying to understand what had happened.
I’d forgotten my tablet…she’d asked me to come back for it…she wouldn’t pass it to me and asked that I take it in the room…the implication was that I took the tablet where she could see me…that had confused me and I’d wondered why I had to take it in there…thought it wouldn’t matter where I took it…and then she’d given me the answer for something I’d not asked…not asked aloud at least.
Had the question been written so plainly in my expression that she’d been able to guess what I was thinking?
It was possible, I conceded, but it didn’t feel right. I paused a few moments longer, mulling over the peculiar exchange. More likely was that Mother knew my inquisitive nature: that I liked to understand how everything worked and why. Of course, she was unaware of how far I really took things, but still, she knew enough about me to think that I’d want some reason to back up her request. That must be it.
The pill still sat in my open palm. A new question began playing around my head. For the first time I had a tablet in my hand, without someone watching over my shoulder while I obediently swallowed it. I was alone now and had the freedom of choice whether to take it or not…what would I do?
Of course I wasn’t going to be a good boy and do what I was told if there was no one watching. I curled my fingers around the capsule and pushed it carefully into my pocket. It would be nice to understand what was in my daily vitamin, and I knew just how to find that out with some choice supplies from The Clinic. I smiled to myself, already relishing the new knowledge I would have by the end of the day. It looked like today was going to be even better than I’d expected.
Quickly stripping out of my night-suit and stepping into the shower, I couldn’t stop grinning as the hot water pounded over my skin. My hair – erratic from being in bed – flattened against my scalp and drifted towards my eyes as the water tamed the dark curls. I pushed them away and held my hair back from my face allowing the spray to spatter my across my eyes and cheeks, as I began to plan out my day.
Twenty minutes later, I stepped through the sliding door of our apartment pod onto the corridor outside. I was wearing a fresh day-suit and had managed to pacify my unruly hair somewhat, so that I looked presentable. I set off towards The Clinic with an excited bounce in my step, the stolen tablet sitting securely in my pocket.