Chapter 13 - Feminine Half-Life Confirmed

But it prompted me to say, “Maybe it’s radioactive? I dunno. All I know is something is going on and stuff happened at school.”

I’m not sure why I said 'radioactive'. It was a word used in a show recently, and I’d seen something in the biology book. But the word was in my head right then, and I said it.

I was sure that the unseen notes she made involved underlined recommendations for assessment by a psychiatrist. She didn’t seem to listen to what my mom said confirming my words. She concluded, “The doctor will be in to see you shortly.”

Shortly was right. Not that it was soon. It still took some time. But rather the doctor took just a short time to see us. And most of that time was going over every detail of the allergy medication I took as though that was the most important thing in the world. He was a young guy and looked self-assured.

I grit my teeth and I really wanted to muster up the same sudden change that had happened in Wes but even thinking it led to a force inside my head pushing me back, holding me away from indulging that thought: A force of guilt.

I got prodded a bit and examined. Nearly a full physical but at least I got to keep my clothes on. Sighing to himself, the doctor flipped through my chart and offered, “My nurse is calling your high school for clarification. If you need a note signed by me, I can do that. I’m not seeing anything to be concerned about.”

My mom shook her head and told him, “Just stand around my daughter a few minutes.”

The doctor looked over with a questioning expression and made a little, illegible note before clearing his throat and saying, “I will order some blood work and a urinalysis, but your daughter looks perfectly healthy. Lungs are clear. No nasal congestion. And I’m...standing right here.”

For emphasis, he folded his arms and stood very close to me. I felt that urge again to blast him. He gave a little shrug and said, “I can order a battery of different tests, but I’m afraid I don’t see any evidence for these claims.”

Soon after that, the doctor was called out by the nurse. We waited a bit more. When he finally returned, he still looked confident but with a touch more squinting to go with it, as he explained, “I just got off the phone with the high school. There seems to be a lot of confusion, but they believe that a boy in one of your classes suffered some health effects along with a few of your other classmates. In my professional opinion, I don’t see anything going on which would point to you as the cause. There’s been a recent explosion of illegal drug use in schools and I think the answer might lie there.”

My mother shook her head and reiterated what we both saw happen to my father more than once. The doctor set the chart down and stood next to me. Minutes passed without any sign, until he finally admitted, “I don’t know what may be happening at this high school or at your home but everything I can see with Kenzie right now says nothing strange is going on with her. If you’d feel better about it, I can recommend some doctors who might be able to look into specific things but first I’d like for her to do the tests I recommend. It’s good to get a baseline for her levels too. It’s entirely possible she has a hormone issue...”

Still, he didn’t stay around me long enough for any side-effects to present themselves. No one around the office did but that wasn’t new. Doctors don’t hang out around people for long. It’s probably a good policy. They see a lot of people and being close can mean they become a vector for passing diseases. I’d read plenty of novels about doctors who screwed up that way. However, I wanted to make him just hold still for a moment and see what happened.

The testing was in a suite a couple doors over. It was just me and my mom, so it went quickly. The person who took my blood didn’t touch me long enough for it to matter and I just sat on a toilet and caught the stream for the urine sample.

After all of it was done, my mom looked about as frustrated as I felt. She gently put her arm around me and resolved, “Let’s have some lunch…”

I sifted through the names of doctors we got from them. A few neurologists (probably for the idea that me and others were crazy), a gynecologist (I was making work for those), an internist, and a psychologist.

I leaned against the door, away from mom, as she stopped at one of the newest drive-thru Italian places on that side of town. I got a big heap of pasta, enough to drown my day in, and breadsticks with too much garlic.

On the long, rough road beside the never-used airport, I asked mom, “What am I going to do?”

She kept her eyes on the road and sighed. “Well, if they don’t see anything wrong…then you should get that doctor slip saying you’re clear. You could probably stay home a day or two till the results come back.”

That seemed like a good idea. But I didn’t feel ill. I felt more worried about getting behind on things. Added stress. Still, I didn’t want to go back to those bitter faces in the Computer Lab, not yet.

I puffed out a breath and reminded mom, “But I can’t be around others.”

She made a careful right turn. “Just be conscious of what’s happening around you. Keep away if you have to. Other people come and go. I’ve told you this before. You should be more concerned about yourself and your business. If that doctor showed anything, he showed you can live a normal life and most won’t notice.”

I wrapped my arms around my stomach and asked, “So…just ignore it and don’t get close to anyone?”

She gave a half-shrug. “At least we won’t have to worry about boys hanging on you.” I resisted a groan but just barely. When I brought up her and dad, she just assured me we would work it out, as she reiterated “be conscious”. Not very comforting.

Her hair had gotten longer and lost a bit of its perm but that soon went away when we arrived home and brought the food in. I felt ambivalent when I saw no police cars or news trucks parked on our curb. On the one hand, it would’ve been terrifying. On the other, it would’ve been something. All the waiting and apathy unsettled me because it felt like a slow withdrawing before a tidal wave.

We passed along what the doctor told us and dad took care of calling the specialists we’d been recommended. Their next appointments were at least a week off, but we made them anyway. Couldn’t hurt.

I stayed on my couch when I was in the same room as my parents and they both kept out of arm’s reach, out of the range of my infectious girlness. After a time, I got used to it. At home, it was a lot easier to keep away from someone and not be self-conscious that you were avoiding them.

Mom called my school and passed along the findings from my doctor. The receptionist on the line didn’t seem to have any idea of the situation, but she took down my information. I’d have to bring in the release/form when the doctor wrote it up. It would cover their asses and maybe mine too.

The rest of the afternoon, I spent reading ahead. Fortunately, most of my teachers posted information on their chalk and marker boards for a week ahead. So, aside from the actual lessons and things I’d need to turn in, I wouldn’t be too far behind. That took most of the evening. The rest I spent watching some crappy sci-fi virus show on UPN before getting on my computer.

I leaned against the side door which, even then, was impossible to open and close without rocking that entire side of the house. After plugging my fragile dongle into the phone line, I signed on to AOL and opened Netscape Navigator to do an Altavista search.

I mulled and wondered. I tried a few different things. I came up with government websites for schizophrenia and anxiety disorders. Real comforting… The other thing I came up with was a random episode of The X-Files through a BBS.

Eventually, something got me to Spiderman and his radioactive spider. Yeah, maybe I consumed a radioactive wheat germ and now I had radioactive femininity.

Yeah right, I figured. Ha.

I chanced upon the X-Men (a film was still in limbo then) but the details were limited to one frame a minute spinning gif sites with green text on black backgrounds. Wikipedia wouldn’t exist until after I graduated high school. But I did find a bit about Rogue.

I wondered if what I had was her opposite. An uncontrollable influence over other people that pushed energy out instead of sucking it in. At least she could cover her skin and be somewhat fine. What could I possibly do to stop it aside from being alone and socially distant?

I shivered from more than the cold tickle of air under the door. I only prayed from time to time, but I sat there with my toasty laptop on my legs and quietly prayed in the dark room.

Please God, I don’t want to be alone. Take away this thing. Make it vanish as quickly and illogically as it has come. Let anyone who’s been affected by it return to normal. Let me just deal with the usual shit of high school.

Whatever it takes… Send help. Send anyone or anything to help me…please God…

Art by Alexis Rillera/Anirhapsodist