Epilogue

There was a buzz of activity in the hospital as they brought in the stretcher. A severely burned man, they said. Third degree burns to face, arms and torso. Few survived such injuries.

“Make way, make way!” Someone shouted.

“There is crust formation and separation of the dermis. We need colloidal resuscitation...”

″...carbolic acid...”

“We cannot operate...”

″...morphine... ...pain...”

“Can you hear me?”

The young doctor had his mouth close to the burned man’s ear. He could smell the skin. A bitter scent.

“You don’t have to speak. Your vocal cords may be damaged. If you can nod or signal me in some way.”

Nothing. He looked up at the visitor.

“I don’t think he can hear us, doctor Aubern. I can’t release him to your facility until he is properly recovered.”

“So be it. I am sure it was he who fled us with the man who is now dead. George McKenzie.”

“Is that his name?”

“No, that was the dead patient. The dismembered man. This man here is nameless. He never spoke. Never told us his name.”

“Mmhh. I will have you know the minute he comes around.”

“Strap him.”

“Excuse me?”

“Strap him tightly until we come and get him. He is very dangerous.”

“If you insist. I really don’t...”

“Just do as I say.”

“Sir. Can you hear me?”

He had asked him this question a million times now. The burns were subsiding. Astonishingly the skin seemed to recover with only scarring of the separation wounds. Burns always scar across the tissue. Melt the epidermis and the nerve cells. Leave the skin senseless. This man reacts to touch. His skin is reforming. The brain appears to have suffered irreparable damage. There is no reaction to questions. He doesn’t move. His eyes are fixed. But touching his skin causes a slight change in breath. His heartbeat quickens. He sighed a bit more heavily than he meant to as he got up and glanced at the burned man one last time.

“Goodbye, sir. I would have loved to hear your story.”

“Did you telephone doctor Aubern at the psychiatric hospital. His patient is ready for him”

“Yes, doctor. They have him scheduled for surgery tomorrow morning.”

“What surgery?”

“A leucotomy, sir.”

“What on earth for? He has been lying immobile the past five months.”

“I am just referencing what he said, sir.”

“Yes, well. Thank you.”

What was this nonsense? A leucotomy? 

ܟ

They have moved me from the hospital bed. Now I am strapped to a chair in a cool room. There are no windows. It is nice here. I recognize the nurses from their voices and their smell. One of them is the rough one with the stick. The one that electrocuted me. The one whose nose George broke. O’Brien. I chuckle a bit to myself. I like this. She grabs my head and fixates it with a strap. Another nurse begins to cut my hair. First roughly, then closer to my pate. Finally, she begins to shave it. It is a strange sensation to have a sharp knife so close to my skin. Defenceless. Did George feel this? Whatever became of Liza’s razor. Did the policemen keep it? It was an exquisite tool. And what became of her? Buried, I suppose. Paradise? The nurse is wiping my pate with something cool. It has a pungent smell. Itches. Then a sting. A needle. They inject something into my skin. I can feel a liquid swelling my skin. Then a dwindling sensation. As if the skin removes itself. I feel nothing on my head. Numbness.

“Doctor McKenzie. The patient is prepared for you.” A nurse calls to someone in another room.

I hear footsteps. A man’s movement. The smells are too many. My senses are confused. I can’t quite make him out in the myriad of scents. I try to turn my head to better hear him, but my head is completely fixed. I can’t move at all. I can sense him before me now. Leaning in over my head. Then he picks something from a metal tray next to me. I can feel him touching my head but not on my skin. Then blood. I smell it more than I sense it. My own blood. What is he doing? He yanks at something on my head. Still no real sensation. Just a pull. He puts down the object on the tray and picks up something else. Something heavy. Again this strange sensation on my head, as if something is pulling at it. That numbness. Then I hear a sound. It is everywhere. A vibration through my skull. An ear piercing shrill. Grinding. Then nothing. My blood is racing. I panic. Then the sound is back. He is drilling a hole in my skull! Then silence.

“Nurse! Clamp this.”

“Yes, doctor.”

He picks up another tool from the tray. A lighter more airy sound of metal. There is an odd sensation. I cannot put a finger on it. A feeling of numbness in my back, perhaps. Then zig-zag lightning behind my blind eyes. Odd. Someone says something but I don’t understand it. My face relaxes. My jaw drops. I can feel saliva from the corner of my mouth but I don’t care. Another muscle loosens and another. I urinate now. I can smell it. But it is okay. I am free now. Then a tear. My first tear.