Eye Candy (26 page)

Candy stood in awe as the scruffy man was loaded onto a stretcher and into the back of an ambulance.

A crowd had gathered to watch the proceedings. Hundreds of pairs of eyes, mostly robotic, looked on. Red and blue lights from emergency vehicles flashed across their metallic faces and bodies.

A uniformed police officer came forward with a large plastic bag and had Danny drop the knife into it.

A paramedic applied a large square of gauze to Danny’s bleeding forearm and assisted Candy and then Danny into the rear of the second ambulance.

~

Danny and Candy were escorted into the emergency room at Blessed Trinity Community Hospital. A nurse led them to an exam room, and Danny sat on the bed. The square of gauze on his arm was now soaked with blood.

Candy sat in a nearby chair.
“You never told me you were in the special forces.”

“
I wasn’t. But the guy with the knife didn’t know that.”

“
Then how did you know all those moves?”

“H
e had a knife. You were in danger. I had to stop him.”

Candy rose from her chair and took Danny’s face in her hands. She looked deep into his eyes. Then she pressed her lips to his and kept them there.

The long blue curtain suspended from the ceiling whisked open on its metallic track. A man wearing a white lab coat over baby-blue scrubs held a digital, transparent clipboard. A stethoscope hung about his neck.

Candy’s lips remained pressed to Danny’s mouth.

The physician continued reading the rest of Danny’s file. When he’d finished, he looked up at the kissing couple. “I was told somebody in here was bleeding.”

Candy withdrew her lips. She smiled at the doctor.
“Sorry. It’s not every day a man saves your life.”

“
Indeed. I just paid a visit to your attacker, Mister Olivaw. He looks like he tried to stop a train with his face. Nice work.”

Danny studied the doctor, trying to discern sarcasm or honesty in the man’s tone.

“I mean that sincerely,” said the doctor. “He tried to take something that didn't belong to him. He got what he deserved.” He came forward and shook Danny’s hand. “I’m Doctor Perkins. I’m actually a big fan of your work.”

“
You are?”

“
I’ve read your book. Robotics is kind of a hobby of mine. In fact, would you mind an autograph?” Dr. Perkins tapped the clipboard a few times and handed it to Danny, along with a short stylus he’d popped out of a top compartment.

Danny looked at the clipboard and saw the cover of his book in ebook format.
He signed his name across it, then returned it to Dr. Perkins.

Dr. Perkins grinned sheepishly.
“Thanks. Now, let’s make some repairs.” He pulled on a pair of latex gloves and removed the gauze from Danny’s arm. The clotted blood pulled away with the gauze, and the gash began to bleed again. Dr. Perkins sprayed the wound with two quick squirts out of a nearby bottle, then stuck his finger into the wound.

“
That’s a dual sterilitic analgesic.” Dr. Perkins’ gloved finger moved around under Danny’s skin. “Sterilizes while it numbs.”

“
Thanks.”

“
Well,” Dr. Perkins removed his finger, “it doesn’t look like he did anything more than cut the epidermis. I’ll have you patched up in a minute. Now, would you prefer a zipper or sutures?”

“
What’s the difference?” asked Candy.

“
A zipper is easier for me to apply and heals faster but leaves a scar. Sutures are a needle and thread, like we’ve been using for a hundred and fifty years. They hurt a bit but my subspecialty is plastic surgery, so I can all but guarantee no scarring.”

Danny considered it.
“Scars are kinda cool. Pain and fear leaving the body and all that. But I think I’ll go with the sutures.”

“
Good choice. And more fun for me.” Dr. Perkins withdrew a suture kit from a drawer, tore it open, and donned a mask and eyeglasses fitted with magnifiers that looked like small microscopes. “Now, the most important thing is that you be absolutely still.” He poked the hooked needle through Danny’s skin. “Did you feel that?”

“
Yes.”

“
Good. It means you’re alive.” Dr. Perkins sprayed the wound with two more quirts of the analgesic.

“
If you’re a good boy and don’t move a muscle,” Dr. Perkins droned from behind his surgical mask, “when we’re all done here, I’ll give you a lollipop.”

“
Oh, good. I love lollipops.”

“
Everybody loves lollipops,” Dr. Perkins added. “By the way, this is a special type of suture thread. They used to use cat guts back in the day, but we’ve managed to improve upon that a bit. This is made from the stevia plant. It will dissolve in about two weeks. So you’ll never have to see me again.” Dr. Perkins’ voice was soft, his tone soothing. “Unless of course you decide to tangle with knife-wielding muggers in the near future. So, what did Mister Drinks-His-Dinner-Through-A-Straw say when he attacked you?”

Danny tried to remember.
“I’m not sure. He asked for money.”

“
And what did you say?”

“
I said ‘No’.”

“
And then what happened?”

“
He demanded money one more time. He said he would cut me. Then he would cut Candy.”

“
Well, that wasn’t very nice, was it? So how did you get cut?”

“
He lunged forward with the knife. I tried to get out of the way but it seems I only partially succeeded.”

“
Judging by the reconstructive surgery I’m going to be doing on his face, I’d guess that it was at that point you disarmed him.”

“
That’s correct.”

“
And how did you disarm him?”

Danny glanced with his eyes to Candy, who sat in the chair. She raised her eyebrows, equally confused as to Dr. Perkins’ line of questioning.

“I struck him in the throat with my knuckles, then used the heel of my palm to smash his nose. That dropped him to his knees. I grabbed the back of his head and drove my knee into his face. The first move was to cut off his air supply. The second move was to cause more pain and to blind him with his own tears. The third strike was to disorient him with a blow to the head. I then secured the hand with the knife and manipulated it until he was forced to the ground, where I took the weapon from him.”

“
That’s some real Chuck Norris shit,” Dr. Perkins said, very softly under his surgical mask. “You a Navy SEAL or an ex-Ranger or something?”

“
Me? No. You think I was too rough on him?”

“
You mean are the cops going to charge you with excessive use of force?” Dr. Perkins chuckled to himself. “I wouldn’t think so. But if they do, call me. I play golf with one of the best defense attorneys in Beverly Hills. But personally, I think you did the right thing. Hopefully pizza-face in Exam Room Three will seek a new line of work. My dad used to be a sharecropper in Alabama. After a few summers of helping him do that, and seeing how much work and how little assurance there was of a steady income, I decided to take a different path. I spent twelve years in school learning how treat and hopefully heal people. Now I have a big house and a fancy sports car, and my wife and kids and I vacation two months out of the year. But the other ten months, I’m busting my hump, either here or at my office. I’ve done okay for myself, and it wasn’t easy. But it was certainly worth it. The American Dream is alive and well for anyone with the courage to pursue it.

“
And now that our nice little chat has reached its logical conclusion, and you have been sufficiently distracted from what I’ve been doing, my work is done.”

Dr. Perkins peeled off his gloves and stuffed them in a red biohazard bin, and then lowered his mask.
“All better.”

Danny inspected his arm. The wound had been closed with an almost imperceptibly thin strand of material. The two flaps of his skin were joined together as if they’d been fused.

“Here, don’t forget this.” Dr. Perkins slapped a thin, skin-like rectangular adhesive bandage on Danny’s arm. “Keep that on for the next couple weeks. It’s water-resistant so you can wear it in the shower. Stop by the nurses’ station on your way out, they have some documents for you to sign.”

Dr. Perkins shook Danny’s hand.
“It’s been a real pleasure sewing you up this evening, Doctor.” He shook Candy’s hand as well. He reached into his coat pocket and withdrew two lollipops. “Here. As promised. Sugar free, too.”

Danny and Candy thanked him and accepted the candy.

Dr. Perkins walked with Danny and Candy toward the nurses’ station, then whipped back the curtain around Exam Room Three. “Okay, Mister Doesn’t-Play-Well-With-Others, let’s have a look at what’s left of your face.” Dr. Perkins began pulling on a fresh pair of latex gloves.

Danny locked eyes w
ith the man who’d attacked them. His face was a purple and blue mass of swollen tissue. A white tube of gauze had been inserted into each nostril. The man raised his right hand and extended his middle finger.

Dr. Perkins turned to Danny and Candy.
“Some people never learn.” He grinned and donned a surgical mask.

Then Candy and Danny were out of view and on their way to the nurses’ station, and an hour later, at last, they arrived at Candy’s, where they both collapsed onto the sofa. There they sat side by side, enjoying the silence.

Chapter 21

A Robot’s Pain, A Robot’s Pleasure

The next morning, Candy was awakened by the telephone. She and Danny were in bed. He lay behind her, nice and close under the blanket, but each of them were still dressed. After the unexpected trip to the hospital, they’d come home and found themselves exhausted.

The phone was still ringing.

Candy eased out of bed and answered it.

She then returned to the bed and gently woke Danny.

“Morning, super hero.”

Danny smiled.
“Morning, sexy.”

“
Susannah just called. I have a client coming in about an hour. Do you want to stay here and keep sleeping?”

“
What time is it?”

“
Almost nine. You could sit in on the session if you like. I don’t think my client will mind.”

“
Who’s your client?”

~

Candy and Danny sat in the cozy living-room-like area in her office. She found clients to be more forthcoming when they felt as though they were merely chatting, as opposed to having a mental health professional staring at them from across three feet of synthetic mahogany.

A sofa and two chairs had been arranged around a coffee table, all situated on an area rug.

Candy sat in one chair.

Danny sat in the other chair.

On the sofa, Helen Flanks, a ninety-something spinster who could’ve passed for somewhere in her early fifties, sat beside her robot. Helen perched on the edge of the sofa, her knees and ankles together, and her hands folded neatly in her lap. The white gloves on her hands accented her pearl necklace and pearl earrings.

Helen
’s snug, form-fitting white mood-dress danced with blue polka dots that faded in and out according to her body temperature. Presently the polka dots were fading slowly and then reappearing briskly, giving the effect of quiet but resolute irritation.

Beside her sat her robot. The robot sat all way back in the sofa. Slouching.

Latex micropolymer served as the robot’s skin. It resembled a muscular, olive-skinned department store mannequin.

A tight, black leather hood covered
the robot’s head. Silver zippers accentuated the eyes and mouth. Candy tried to study the robot’s red eyes through the slits. It was difficult not to laugh. She dared not look at Danny. He was covering his mouth with one hand, trying, and mostly failing, to conceal his laughter. His face was red with the effort.

Candy waited. She always waited. Waited for the client to speak, until they were ready to begin.

After several minutes of stubborn silence, and several pretend sneezes from Danny, Helen spoke.

“
I think you can
see
, Doctor, why it was imperative that I see you this morning. Something really must be done.”

“
Why don’t you start from the beginning?” Candy removed the stylus from the digital clipboard on her lap and prepared to write. She was well familiar with Helen’s case history. But it often helped for the client to review the steps for themselves. It would also enable Danny to learn the backstory. Candy had assured Helen that Danny was also an expert in robotics and was a consummate professional who would of course keep everything in the strictest of confidence. Helen had then agreed to let him join their session.