The third part of Edward’s story – to relieve boredom

This story from the begining. Start HERE

I admit now, amoungst the blacks, alone and unable to move, I was scared.

The man I could only assume was Mary’s father lifted my almost naked body onto a table in the house. I could not struggle, I tried, but if I had been able to I would have. The room was shabby and dirty, and my eyes spun in my head as I tried to get as good a look as possibe of the room, so that, in case anything happened … I’m not sure what I was thinking of doing.

A black woman in a dusty, thirty-year old dress, was stood over a sink in the corner, watching her husband as she absent mindedly washed whatever it was that was in the sink. Mary was bouncing at the side of the table, watching as her father and the other man looked down at me, their eyes seeming to analyse my body, and I could feel it.

“Had a good go at him, didn’t they?” the woman observed.

“Served him right, though,” the man who I assumed was not Mary’s dad said “He walked right past the bait, then went back to help him!”

“Should have just carried on walking, mate!” Mary’s dad laughed, pushing my hair out of my face with a gentle, walm hands. His hands slid down my wet face, to my sticky, red throat, finguring the insition before letting his eyes wonder further down my body. “They cut you up good.”

“He’s a white man, Daddy,” Mary whispered, watching me watching her.

“Yes, I know sweety,” Mary’s Dad said “Go get me a wet cloth, baby, ok? Alfie, can you pass me the instruments?”

I could not move, and I was trying, but if I could I would no longer have been there. I wasn’t a raceist. I didn’t believe in what they thought or did. But I was as scared of the black doctor using instruments on my body as I was any white doctor.

I could hear Mary clatter down stairs somewhere outside my vision and she appeared at my side with a dripping wet cloth, shoving it between my teeth. My eyes flicked over to the other man, carrying an out of place, silver tray to the table.

“Now, Mr White Man, don’t be afraid to bite,” Mary’s Dad warned with a grin. “Alfie! Are you finished messing around or are you going to wase all day over there? Calm down, it’s ok. You’re gonna be fine.”

Alfie hurried over, placeing the silver tray on the table beside me. Mary’s Dad took a short, thin knife from the tray and held up to the light. In the other hand held a wet wipe, and he gently dabbed my throat, cleaning my neak of blood that was probably becoming infected now. He replaced the knife with a pair of tweesers. With a surgens presition, he inserted the tweesers into the insition, as gently as possible, and pulled out a small green box. My teeth ripped through the cloth, denting each other, I was sure. Mary’s Dad held the green box infront of my eyes and grinned.

“Computer chip,” he said “Stops the vocal cords. Also stops a lot of movement. Can you feel your limbs coming back to you now?”

I nodded, suprising myself with the movement. Mary’s Dad laughed.

“Don’t try anything with too much effot just yet,” he said “You still have a lot of injuries. Now,  Mr White Man, we’re going to give you a nice drug ok, that will make you go to sleep. OK? Not a party one, not in here. We only needed you awake for that short, short procedure, ok? Now you can go to sleep and when you wake up you will be nice and better.”

“Nice and better.” Mary repeated, grinning.

I felt myself nodding but I didn’t actually do it. Again in the strange, dark world I had stumbled into and wished I hadn’t, I felt my head spinning and I again, allowed myself to slip into rest. Unable to stop myself.

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