Patreon Exclusive | Mix-up | Part 2

TWO

David thinks of the time he took his six year old niece to the dentist. On the drive, little Chloe insisted that she had the best dentist in the world, but it wasn’t until they arrived that David fully understood. A dentists office with a beach theme, where the patients wear colorful sunglasses. Where relaxing music plays in the background, where you get to pick a toy after your visit. And where, during the visit, the dentist does not use needles or drills. He only talked about tickles and juice. 

A constant message that this is a good place, a happy place. That there’s nothing to fear. 

Message received. His patients all loved him, and so did their parents. 

Through the Center’s swing-doors, David wonders if they have to go through a daycare facility before getting to the treatment facility. The hallway floor is painted with primary-colored lines and arrows, and the walls are decorated with pinned-up paintings of the sort usually seen on the doors of kitchen refrigerators. 

And then they pass a doorway that leads to a large room and David sees the size of the children. 

Donald stops in his tracks, strains at his brother’s hand, no doubt attracted by the bright colors, by the noise and toys. The playroom looks and sounds like a lot of fun if you have the mind of a small child. 

To David, who pulls right back, it looks like a barely-controlled zoo. 

He raises his voice to as Mimi, “Is it…is it always this loud?”

The nurse laughs. “Just getting a little energy burned off.” She winks at him. “Don’t worry, it’ll be nap-time soon.”

David gazes around the room. Is this it? Is this what counts as treatment? He sees one of the nurses changing an MA female’s diaper, with no thought to the woman’s privacy. 

“Wanna play,” Donald says. But with what? There’s a group of MAs sitting in a circle with plastic drums and shakers. There’s two MA males and a female crawling over an over-sized playmat, the kind with streets and houses, pushing toy cars and making the sound effects to match. There’s what looks to David like an elaborate blanket fort, with someone’s feet poking out from one side. 

Donald looks almost spoiled for choice, and then he points and declares, “Wanna play trucks!”

“Soon,” Mimi promises Donald. “First we have to clean you up, remember?” She points at his crotch. “You’re all soggy, silly!”

Donald glances down at his wet pants, and it’s clear he’d forgotten all about them. “Soggy,” he parrots dimly, and then he giggles. “Soggy soggy!” Thoggy-thoggy!

“Come on, Mr. Silly Soggy,” Mimi says to Donald indulgently, earning more giggling for her trouble. The nurse takes both men further along the hallway and then they turn left, pass some closed offices, and finally they reach what could pass as an ordinary medical exam room. 

Instead of lying Donald down on a giant changing mat like the one being used for the woman in the play room, Mimi lets him stay standing. She strips off his wet clothes and makes quick work of cleaning him up, dressing him in a white polo shirt and then pulling a pair of thick white training pants up his legs. 

“There,” Mimi says with satisfaction. “Reckon you’ll do.” She pats an exam table and motions for Donald to jump up. He does as he’s told, poking at his new underwear with bland curiosity. 

David frowns. “Maybe he could get some pants?”

Mimi blinks at him. “It’s okay, honey, he won’t need formal attire.” She beams at Donald. “Don’t have any pressing engagements, do you honey. No executive business meetings?”

Donald smiles at the woman with no sign that he understands the question.

“I just mean, he’s not really…he’s still an adult,” says David. 

“Physically, sure,” Mimi replies. She taps the side of her head. “But not up here.” She pats Donald’s knee. “In his head, he’s all silly and sweet, just an innocent little boy who needs toys and cuddles.” She goes to a drawer and comes back with the promises snack. “And cookies!” She offers it to Donald, and she laughs when he grabs it and crams most of it into his mouth in one go. 

“What a hungry boy,” says Mimi. 

“Hungeh boh!” mimics Donald. 

David grimaces at the sight of his brother talking (babbling) with his mouth open and focuses on the issue at hand. “But all this.” He raises his hands and lets the fall. “It doesn’t look like treatment, it looks like giving up. Dressing them that way, diapers, the playroom. How does any of this help them fight the virus?”

Mimi frowns. “I assure you, this facility provides first-class treatment for MA patients.” She reaches for a tablet device and opens an app. At the same time, she says to David, “the first step is making patients feel comfortable in their new skin, in their new minds. The last thing an MA patient needs is to feel embarrassed or frustrated, or worst of all, ashamed by their mental state. If all they can think about is the things they’ve lost – work, status, relationships – then they’re in no position to get better.”

She looks kindly at Donald, who’s cramming the last of the cookie into his mouth with greedy fingers, and says softly, “Once they’re safe, once they know they’re loved? That’s when the recovery begins.”

David looks at his brother. “And you see them get better? Do they all get better, or just some?”

It’s as if Mimi doesn’t hear the question, because she laughs at Donald. “Look at you, like a cookie monster!” She goes to the snack drawer and brings back two more. “One for you, and…” She smiles at David. “Want one? You can show your brother how to eat with some manners.”

David shake his head. “thanks, but I’m not hungry.”

Mimi gives Donald one cookie and then says softly to David, “If you want to see your brother deal with this thing, you have to be a part of it. And that means being age-appropriate. You can’t afford to be squeamish. If you treat him like he’s some kind of…disease, then he’s going to feel like one.”

David sighs. “Yeah, I get your point.” He smiles at Donald and says to Mimi, “Sure, I’d love one.” He takes the cookie and takes a reasonable, but not monster-sized bite. 

While both men are eating, Mimi checks Donald’s eyes and ears, making the man squirm and flinch. 

She motions to David. “Maybe you could…” She nods at the table, and David gets the point. He sits down beside his brother and says, “It’s okay, Donald, the lady just wants to make sure you’re…we’re okay.”

Mimi gives him a grateful nod, and David finishes the cookie while the nurse finishes the exam by taking both of the men’s blood pressure, adding notes to the tablet. 

Cookie finished except for some crumbs on his chin, Donald starts swing his legs back and forth. 

“Relax, Donald,” says David, “We’re nearly done.”

Mimi laughs. “Nothing wrong with a little swing,” she says, putting the electronic device away. She smiles at David. “Maybe you should try it.” And for a moment it’s as if David is the one with the problem and Donald is the one setting the good example. 

But that’s hardly the case. David keeps his legs perfectly still. 

Even though it might be fun to swing them. Fun for little boys. Silly little boys like Donald. 

David stifles a yawn. 

Donald doesn’t. 

“Golly,” Mimi says brightly, “I think the cookie monster needs a nap!”

Donald giggles. “Notta cookie monster!”

Mimi raises an eyebrow. “What do you think, David. Is your brother a silly little cookie monster?” She winks at him, and David can’t help laughing. 

“Maybe a little bit,” he says, grinning. And his own yawn is almost as big as Donald’s. 

“Hmm,” Mimi says. “I think maybe I have two little boys needing naps.”

David laughs again. The idea is absurd, but he knows that Mimi is only joking. After all, it’s Donald who can hardly talk, it’s Donald who wets his pants like a dumb toddler, and it’s Donald who eats cookies like a monster. 

David only had one cookie. It was good though. He can still taste the sweetness on his tongue. 

At that, a new nurse, taller than Mimi and with tied-up red hair, comes into the exam room armed with a small black bag that she unzips on a metal tray. “Hello everyone!” she says cheerfully. “Everyone feeling comfy?”

Mimi nods. “Very comfy, Fiona, thank you. Just about ready for nap-time.”

“Excellent.” The new nurse reveals a hypodermic syringe and prepares an injection. 

David peers at the nurse’s hands and says to Mimi, “Donald has always hated getting shots.”

Mimi smiles back. “It’s okay, David, look at your brother. He’s in happy land.”

David blinks and then looks at Donald. Sure enough, he’s got a faraway expression on his face, with the softest of smiles playing on his lips. 

Mimi strokes the man’s hair and says in her sing-song voice, “Donald’s got a full tum, soft diaper and he’s ready for ni-nights. He’s not scared of a little jab from Fiona.”

Fiona cleans a patch of skin on Donald’s arm with a wipe and says, “Name?”

Donald doesn’t reply. He doesn’t even seem to have heard the question. 

Mimi supplies. “Thomson, D.”

“Date of birth?”

Mimi repeats the favor. 

And then Fiona gives Donald the injection, the man not even flinching. 

“There,” Mimi says, her voice full of satisfaction. “Let’s get you ready for nap-time.” She guides a clearly groggy but seemingly content Donald off the bench and back on his feet. 

“Back in a minute, honey,” Mimi says to David. “Fiona, can you take care of this one while I put Donald down for his nap.”

Fiona nods. She smiles. “Hey, twins, right?”

“Identical,” says Mimi. And before David even has a chance to say goodbye to Donald, his brother is gone. 

David smiles at the new nurse as she adjusts her medical equipment. 

“I had a cookie,” he says, to make conversation.

“Mmm,” Fiona replies. “That’s good.” She prepares the syringe. “Gotta have a nice full tummy.” She peers at the screen of her own tablet. “That’s weird.” And then she nods. “Oh, it’s because of your initials.”

David raises a heavy-feeling eyebrow. Something’s weird?

“Thomson, D, right?” Fiona says with a smile. “That’s your name too.”

“Huh?”

The nurse shakes her head, and David gazes at her long red hair. So shiny, so pretty. “It’s okay, sweetie.”

She wipes a patch of skin on his arm with a fresh wipe. “Same date of birth, same initials. That’s why there’s only one of you on the system.”

David blinks down at his arm. Why is Fiona cleaning it? The wipe feels cool and damp on his skin. He’s feeling so slow – maybe he does need a nap, just like Donald – but he can just have a moment to collect his thoughts, surely he can solve this puzzle. 

“Because there’s two of you,” says Fiona, “you’re twins!” 

She uses the same tone that Mimi used with Donald, that funny sing-song voice, and the man blinks again in confusion. “Two?”

“That’s right, silly,” Fiona says. She slips the needle into David’s arm and empties the syringe. “Just imagine, both of you coming to the Center on the same day.” She pulls out the needle smoothly and smiles at him. “Isn’t that funny!”