Page 22 of Peep
I blurt out the lie I’ve been effortlessly telling people for the past few days. “Just a tummy bug.”
He climbs from his seat, leaning over the table to place the back of his hand on my head. I swat his hand away, knowing full well I’m a regular temperature.
“I’m alright now, it’s passed.”
“Hmm, well, I don’t know how I feel about you coming to a hospital when you’re unwell. You could infect other patients.”
Fuck, I hadn’t thought of that.
Chris’ eyes form thin slits like he doesn’t quite believe what I’m saying. So, I scramble to my feet. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t think. I can leave.”
“No, it's fine. You’re here now, so we may as well enjoy lunch together. Be careful on your way out and use hand sanitiser, though.”
Chris stands, opens the windows wide and pumps the duty-sized hand sanitiser sitting on the corner of his desk, lathering his hands in the stuff. He nods at the bottle, and I follow suit. Looks like he bought my whole tummy bug bullshit.
We dig into our food for several minutes in what Chris probably thinks is companionable silence, but my skin prickles with nerves as I brace myself to ask the questions I came for.
“Orchiectomy,” I blurt out.
“What? Chris splutters, almost choking on a piece of nigiri.
I grab a bottle of water I brought, quickly open it and hand it to him. He gulps it down, rubbing his broad chest and clearing his throat until the sushi is successfully dislodged.
I’m messing this up.
“Sorry,” I mumble, shoving more sushi in my mouth so I don’t have to speak and can gather my thoughts.
“What’s up, Anders?”
He pushes the container to the side, leaning on his elbows and linking his fingers in a classic doctor pose. I make a show and dance of munching my food like I can’t speak with a full mouth.
“Why are you randomly blurting out the names of surgeries?”
I force myself to swallow the remaining food and cut to the chase. “Have you ever performed an orchiectomy?”
His brows pinch together in confusion before he answers. “Years ago, when I was training, but that’s not my field anymore. I’m more focused on transplants, which you know. Why do you ask?”
“Is it a complicated surgery? Can you die from it? Like, does it hurt after?” A flurry of questions escape me. I can tell by the look on his face I’ve said too much.
“Hold up, Anders, is something wrong? Have you found a lump?” Genuine concern creases his features.
Fuck, I should’ve known this line of questioning would make him think the worst, but I didn’t know who else to speak to.
After I saw what Jahmar had done to that man, I wondered about the procedure and the risks. Jahmar seemed to know what he was doing as if he’d performed surgeries before. I had to wonder, though, how safe it would be to perform something like that in a fucking bedroom with a lack of proper medical equipment. Could a man survive that kind of invasive surgery in such conditions, and how would it feel after? I can’t imagine someone removing my testicles. I mean, I know it happens to cats and dogs every day, but when it comes to humans, it’s because of an illness such as cancer. Why the hell would patients opt for a backdoor orchiectomy with Jahmar if they were genuinely ill? This shit isn’t adding up.
“Anders,” Chris raises his voice, snapping me from my chaotic thoughts.
“Shit, sorry. I’m fine. My balls are great. Lump free and full of life.” I cringe as the words leave my mouth.
Chris looks at me like I’ve grown a second head before straightening his face and softening his tone like he does with patients. “Someone, you know, maybe? I’m happy to answer any questions they might have.”
“No, honestly, it’s fine. I was just curious. You know I’ve always been fascinated about the work you do.”
That’s a fucking lie, and he knows it. I’m proud of my brother; of course, I am, but I think you have to have some sort of god complex to be comfortable with cutting people open and removing their organs.
“You look a little pale. Maybe we should discuss something lighter while we eat,” Chris suggests, tentatively smiling at me.
He knows something’s up; he isn’t going to push, though. Chris never does. I jump on that opportunity and change the subject. “Seeing anyone new?”
