December exclusive - "Christmas Time" - Part 4 👧

16th December

The Clinic

Katie sits in the chair in Dr. Sucette’s treatment room. She’s been here before. How many times? So the PPA can freeze her in time, so they can stop her growing up all the way?

It’s been 15 years. It’s been a lot. The annual chill, her body fixed in place. Her almost, not-quite-a-woman state. Katie’s mother has always made her favourite dinner on this day; spaghetti with the ragu sauce. She cooks the minced beef in milk, which sounds disgusting to everyone until they try it. Spaghetti with sauce, a green salad, and a loaf of tiger bread. They eat at the dinner table instead of in front of the TV, they use the fancy napkins and light candles. Katie’s mother drinks pinot noir and Katie drinks Pepsi and they make toasts to her departed, dispatched father and the life that has paid of debts and promised them a life of luxury. Eventually. At the end of the contract.

9 days from now.

She glances down at her bare arm, the rolled-up sleeve of her school blouse where the doctor drew blood earlier. A second version of the tests taken a week before. Because the results were inconclusive. This time, Sucette nodded at the test-tube, told Katie that she has passed with flying colours.

Katie had grinned. She had texted her mother: Don’t forget the tiger bread! 🌟

Now, she sits back in the chair, closes her eyes. She could be at the dentist, but there are no drills. She could be at the obstetrician, but there are no stirrups.

She keeps her eyes closed and wonders how the opposite of previous treatments will feel.

“Is it going to hurt?”

Katie blushes when she realises that she’s asked the question out loud. She’s never been one to complain, to ask questions which could have unpopular answers.

“Some discomfort,” says Dr. Sucette. “I’ll give you something, take the edge off.”

Katie opens her eyes, watches the doctor prepare the device. “That’s okay.” It doesn’t look like the one they’ve used before, but of course, why would it?

“I’ll give you something.” She comes back with what looks like a sugar lump. “Open wide.”

Katie does so, and the doctor places the cube on her tongue. It does taste sweet, and Katie imagines how many people Dr Sucette has treated like this. Medicated. People tend to trust their doctor. People are idiots.

She crunches down, because no, she won’t complain. And the chemicals are nothing but sweet.

“Won’t turn me blue, right?” Katie asks, pulling a face.

“Katie the Smurf. No chance of that.” Sucette turns back to her equipment. “What are you missing this morning?” Meaning, what lesson in school. Not “What will you miss?” After this is done, after Katie leaves town with her mother. For a moment, Katie imagines herself on a horse, riding into the sunset.

On a pony. On Peaches. She sighs. Probably long dead.

“Katie?”

There was a question. She racks her brain. What’s first thing on Thursday? For a second, Katie can’t remember, her timetable is a blank, and then she sniffs. “Physics,” she says.

“Lovely,” Sucette says. But she would say that, wouldn’t she?

Is it lovely for Katie? A lesson she has taken 15 times before, give or take. She can see herself back in the classroom, raising her hand when the teacher asks, What name is given to the total kinetic energy and potential energy of all the particles of helium gas in a helium balloon?

“Internal,” she mutters.

“Hmm?” Sucette looks at Katie with a raised eyebrow.

Katie laughs. “Nothing. Sorry.”

“Silly,” says Sucette with an indulgent tone. She produces a kind of helmet from her tray of equipment and places it over Katie’s head.

“What’s that for?” Katie asks.

“To protect you from the rays.” Sucette taps her own head. “Want to keep the stuff between your ears from getting stale.”

Katie nods. That makes sense. Or it might as well make sense. Her GSCE physics coursework has never come close to explaining how Parkdale works.

“Not too heavy is it?” the doctor asks.

Katie shrugs. “Little bit.”

“You might find this tiring.” She smiles at Katie. “I’ve had some subjects sleep through the entire procedure.”

“But it’s not going to hurt,” says Katie.

“No.” Sucette pat’s the girl’s arm. “Besides, I gave you the special medicine, remember? Make you feel nice and calm.”

Katie nods, and it occurs to her that the helmet isn’t heavy, it’s just her own head that feels weighed down. Filling up with sweet relaxation.

“Is that how you feel?” asks the doctor. “Nice and calm?”

Katie nods again. “Yes.”

“Good girl.” Sucette reaches behind Katie’s neck and unfastens the pendant.

“Oh,” Katie says with surprise. How strange, to not wear her secret weapon. And it’s only now that she understands; this is it, this is the end.

“Happy retirement,” says Dr. Sucette, grinning. She puts the pendant in the pocket of her lab coat.

Katie returns the smile. No last-minute changes now. The PPA isn’t begging her to change her mind. And wasn’t Katie expecting that, just a little? As if she was indispensable?

“There will be some buzzing,” says the doctor, “in your head. But don’t worry. Everything’s under control.”

Katie nods. She imagines the doctor will set up more equipment and then leave the room, and there will be a click, or a boom or a whoosh as Katie is exposed to the treatment.

But there isn’t any more gadgets. And the doctor stays right there, armed only with a device that resembles a TV remote.

Katie looks at the doctor. How old is Sucette? Late thirties, early forties, at a guess. Is she frozen like Katie? How will it feel, getting older? Each day, a step closer to death? Will Katie reach for expensive moisturizers, will she beg for expensive treatments?

Will she rush back to Parkdale?

Katie ponders the hypotheticals as the doctor points the black device at her.

“Don’t worry about the buzzing,” says Sucette.

Katie is about to shake her head – she is reassured, she is sugar sweet – when she is rocked by a sensation in her skull that makes her grip the armrests of the chair.

Too much, she cries out. But she doesn’t. The voice is in her head, it’s trapped between her ears like everything else, and suddenly, completely, the only place is in Katie’s mind.

Whether this is something that takes seconds or hours, Katie can’t tell. But when the buzzing fades, when her fingers and toes relax, Katie finds herself covered in a sheen of perspiration.

The doctor will ask how she’s feeling. And so Katie considers the possible answers.

Sweaty. Tired.

Missing.

“I want to thank you for your service,” Dr Sucette says gently. “On behalf of everyone at the Parkdale Parenting Association.” She has crouched beside the chair, and when Katie looks at the doctor’s face, she finds eyes filled with tears.

“I’m okay,” says Katie impulsively. She reaches for the doctor’s face, wipes at the wetness. Katie frowns. “Don’t be sad.”

“You were the very best,” Sucette says. There’s a catch in her voice, and Katie thinks of all the people she has babysat for. She thinks of all the times she has needed to make it all better.

“It’s okay,” Katie says again. “I helped fix people.” She giggles suddenly, the laughter coming from her throat like an unexpected belch. “When I help fix people, it feels like I’m using my fair princess powers. It feels like pink ribbons on a bicycle.” She giggles again. “Remember?”

“I wanted to give you what we promised,” says Sucette.

Which is the wrong response. Which makes Katie wonder if something isn’t quite right. And then she remembers; it’s not the doctor who knows about the fairy princess game. It’s her old friend, Amber.

She closes her eyes and sighs at the memory, barely noticing as Sucette removes the helmet.

“We shouldn’t have kept freezing your age,” Sucette says. She clears her throat. “Too many times, it was always a risk, but your numbers were always perfect. But not this time. And I can’t…I can’t make you age, and I can’t make you younger.”

Katie isn’t listening. She’s thinking of Amber. She’s dreaming of their game, lying down on garden path and having each other draw their outlines with coloured chalk.

“You’re stuck, and they won’t let you leave,” Sucette says, her voice heavy with regret. “Honey, you’re going to have to stay.”

Katie opens her eyes and smiles. She can see the swirls of coloured chalk, she can feel the air on her face as she rides her bicycle. And what is the best part? The very sweetest memory?

”We did stuff that was made-up!” Katie blurts. She grins as the doctor reaches over to stroke her hair.

“I know you did, sweetheart.” And Katie isn’t sure if the doctor understands. And then Katie blushes, because she’s forgotten the lady’s name. A finger creeps to her mouth as she frowns with concentration. Her head has all kinds of holes in it today.

“You know what day it is?” asks the lady in the white coat.

Katie shakes her head. She looks down to consider her white blouse and grey skirt. She’s a big girl, she goes to school. But she can’t be that big if she doesn’t even know what day it is.

“It’s Thursday,” the lady says, and she continues to stroke Katie’s hair in the most delightful way. “And you know what that means?”

Katie shakes her head again. She likes this game, where the lady asks questions and then provides the answers.

“It means…” The lady purses her lips, and then she smiles. “It means,” and her voice is now an urgent whisper. “It’s the day you go and see Santa Claus at the shopping centre!”

Katie bounces in the chair. How could she have forgotten such a fantastic thing? And then she nods with understanding. “Because Mum…Mummy helps Santa.” She nods importantly with the association.

“That’s right,” the lady says, “clever girl.” She smiles, and Katie smiles back, but she does wonder if there’s something not quite right about the lady’s smile, as if she’s got something that hurts at the same time.

The question fades as soon as the doctor lady produces a new outfit for Katie to wear.

Actually, not a new outfit. An old one, something she used to wear every year at this time. And it’s not long at all, thanks to the nice lady’s help, before Katie is wearing her special Christmas dress. Red velvet with fluffy white cuffs, thick white tights and black bar shoes.

Katie beams as the doctor tidies her hair and adds a finishing touch; a matching red velvet hairband. Katie touches the padded band with her fingers and smiles with satisfaction. She’s pretty as a picture.

“Ready to visit Santa?” asks the lady.

Katie nods.

“Going to sit on his lap and tell him what you want for Christmas?”

Katie gives a bigger nod. “Uh-huh!”

And as they leave the room, Katie’s mind fills with ponies, toys, and a very special doll that eats food and drinks milk all by itself like magic.

A handsome teenage boy is sitting in the waiting room. He jumps up as soon as he sees Katie. He grins and waves. “Hi, Katie! You look perfect!”

Katie beams, and she feels better when she remembers the boys name. “Hi, Luke,” she says shyly. She tilts her head at him. “Are you going to see Santa?”

Luke smiles and nods. “I was hoping to be your escort, my good lady.” He performs a stiff bow that makes Katie giggle through her fingers.

Sucette says, “I think that’s a yes.”

Luke holds out his hand and Katie takes it enthusiastically. “You’re not dressed up,” she says as they leave the waiting room.

“True,” agrees Luke. He points to the lifts. “Want to press the button?”

Katie runs to the lift doors.

The lift is empty, and Katie is disappointed that she has no one to show off her outfit with, but she can make do with admiring her reflection.

When Luke presses the button for the ground floor, Katie opens her mouth to protest – she wanted to do that! – but then she sees the expression on his face.

Dark. Anxious. Like he’s got a pain inside, like the doctor.

“Okay,” Luke says, and his tone has changed to match, from charming to strained. He holds Katie’s face in his hands. “This had better fucking work.” And then, as Katie’s eyes widen in shock, Luke kisses his friend firmly on the lips.

To be concluded...