He is gone I guess he learned everything he needed. I wonder how long I have been here. When was the last time I ate anything? Well I can’t find the button thing and there is no tv. Convalescing in this hospital kind of sucks. Well I’m bored. When am I getting out of here?
“Morning sunshine.” A nurse says. “Guess who gets to go home today?”
“You, after you get off work?” I’m confused are they really going to send me out of here when I am still this dizzy?
“Well that too but you are going home today. We got you a ride to the airport and your plane leaves in 6 hours. We are finishing the discharge paperwork now. So lets get you dressed.” When did my suitcase get here? How did they know where I was working?
“How long have I been here?”
“Lets see...5 days.” She flipped open my suitcase and is pulling out clothes. “Well lets try these.” She walks over and starts unhooking all of the various tubes and wires. Turning off machines and helping me dress. I’m in a lot of pain but try not to resist as she clearly has the upper hand here. It seems strange that I haven’t even talked to a doctor since I got in here but I am so far past ready to go home that I don’t question things. Now dressed, well bandaged, and with my arm in a sling a chair is brought to take me out of here. An extra man carries my things I have no idea if I even have everything but at least I am going home and that is the important part. The rest of the stuff can be replaced. Like I bring important sentimental items with me for field work. The taxi is clean and my bags are loaded in the trunk. I have no idea how I will manage once I get to the airport. The drive is quiet as I watch the buildings go past. Where is my purse? Was I given medication at discharge? When will my pain medication wear off? I must be on something I know that but what and when do I need another dose?
The car slows as we hit heavy traffic. My door opens and my arm is being pulled sharply. A man with a gun is yelling at me to come with him and dragging me to a car. There are more men out here all in suits all with guns all yelling frantically. Before I can even protest I am shoved into a van and the door is slammed shut behind me. There are more people inside with suits and guns. My eyes meet John’s as the van accelerates.
“What the hell is going on?” I yell.
John takes a deep breath and replies “We are with the CIA and we are rescuing you from the KGB. They were going to kill you for what you discovered.”
“What? I didn’t even discover anything! All I found was a patch of dirt with no radiation in it. That isn’t exactly rare on earth!”
“But it is rare to find bacteria that eat radiation and we believe you have found some. More importantly they believe you found some too. Now we are taking you back to chernobyl to help us locate the spot you found.”
“What? NO! I want to go home!”
“Do it for your country.” He implores
“No!” I just want to go home, heal from this, and pretend it never happened.
“We will get you back home and give you a hundred grand.” He rolls his eyes looking irritated.
“Fine but after I point out the spot I am going home!”
“Ok, good. We will be at chernobyl in a couple hours.”
The drive continues in silence. I am stiff and uncomfortable. The discomfort slowly grows into a dull throbbing pain in my arm, shoulder, and back. My head hurts and I am getting hungry.
“I think my pain medication is wearing off.”
“Anything else?” replies John
“I’m hungry, tired, my head is killing me, I need to pee, I haven’t seen my purse in days, where are my bags, I want my passport and wallet, and I am thirsty.”
“Hrm… that is quite the list.” he replies “Are you sure you don’t want a pony to go with all of that?”
“You are an ass!” I growl and look out the window. I get tapped on the shoulder and the woman behind me offers me some pills and a bottle of water. Which I gladly accept while muttering my thanks. After a few minutes a sandwich is produced. Bolognia with swiss on rye with pesto sauce topped with artichoke hearts? Was someone stoned when they made this? Damn this sandwich sucks! Well here is hoping I can keep this down. People are weird.
As the painkillers take effect I slowly drift off with my full stomach and even fuller bladder.
As the car slows I come around blinking in the bright spotlights surrounding the car. Apparently this team is a lot larger than the ones I usually work with there are people everywhere. A couple women wordlessly help me to the bathroom and then into the radiation suit. One even helps to put a sling on my broken arm over the suit to help keep it stable.
All eyes are on me as I slowly set out looking for the spot with the bare ground and blue grass. It takes forever to find the spot. I feel the impatience of all the workers around me as I struggle to find the spot. Then I see it, a 8 foot square hole in the ground 4 feet deep. Someone already beat us here and took all the dirt that could have possibly contained the bacteria. When I tell John this he is not happy and storms off yelling at everyone he sees.
Some women help me out of my suit and take me to a room to rest for the night. I even find my luggage there. So John had told the truth that they would get my things back. Curious about what was recovered I start going through my things sorting the clean from the dirty and hoping to find something fresh to wear tomorrow. I even find my purse, passport, and wallet which I set aside so it will make it on the plane with me. I even find some really bloody rags. Oh shit. Those are the clothes I was wearing when the car flipped. The pants even still have a couple samples I took. Excitedly I jump up and try to find John to tell him the good news. Finding him is harder than it looks and takes most of an hour but he is very happy with my news and sends the samples to the lab immediately to see if any bacteria are still alive. Exhausted I drop into my bed for some rest.
Awe Fuck! I need some damn painkillers, breakfast, and a bathroom! Stumbling outside a woman catches me and offers me some pills and a bottle of water. Damn these people are big on silence. I quickly down both and stagger off to find a bathroom and follow my nose to breakfast.
Sitting at the only table of people who look like scientists and are speaking english I try to listen to the conversation.
“...so the bacteria is extracted and growing quite happily right now.” Says one woman with thick glasses.
“But does it eat only one kind of radioactive material? And what does the bacteria excrete?” Replies her tall lanky male colleague.
John found me and told me that I would be going home that day. That my things were packed up and a car was waiting. Hoping he was telling the truth I followed him. The lanky boy tripped and fell into me knocking me to the floor. Pain exploded from everywhere and my vision blurred. It took a few minutes before I could get up, cuss him out properly for being clumsy, and follow John to the car. Its official. I hate russia and am never coming here again. Now all I need to do is get home mostly in one piece and never think about this again. Crazy dirt stealing russians.
On the plane and relaxing I am looking for my ipod. There is a vial in my pocket with a note telling me to hang on to the vial and that I would be contacted later to produce it. The liquid inside is clear and it fits easily into the palm of my hand. Fuck this crazy trip isn’t over yet. How do I get out of this? That lanky scientist guy must have put this in my pocket and now I am transporting the gods only know what straight to my home. I knew I should never have taken this job. Nothing good ever comes from a vial placed in your pocket by a stranger. I have seen all the good spy movies and a situation like this only leads to heartache and death. Not necessarily in that order. Placing the vial back into my pocket I try to relax for the rest of the flight. This might be the only rest I get for a while. Who knows what kind of shit will hit the fan when we land. I ask the stewardess for a stiff drink knowing it will be my last one for a while.
Back in the LAX airport I can’t get my husband on the phone. Maybe he is out on a job. Maybe he forgot his phone. Maybe he is dead in a ditch somewhere but lets not get ahead of things. Hailing a cab is easy enough its just maneuvering my bags with my broken arm that is the problem. Giving him the address in santa monica he takes off. The real question is if I should go home first or get my first good meal in a long time at poncho’s tacos first. I hate maneuvering luggage but I am also starving. This dilemma is brutally compounded by the fact that my house buts up with the restaurant property but the house sits about a hundred feet above the restaurant. So if I eat first then I will have to carry my luggage up but if I stop at the house first then I might be too tired to go to the restaurant. Damn I hate making decisions. Oh hell I will eat first. My change in destination only minorly annoys the cabby but then again it isn’t that far off. I can probably pay one of the kids that works there to carry my bags up to my house. After all I am at the place almost every day. Which is partly why I bought the house. Never needing to cook again when tired. When I am sick I can even call them up and they deliver. I love that place.
The food is just as fantastic as I remember. I can’t figure out which I like more the slow cooked meats or the salsa. I guess it doesn’t really matter. I wonder If I can convince one of them to carry me to bed. This has been way too exhausting and I am ready to sleep for about a week.
Gathering my things I walk home and something is wrong. The front door is open. The plants are knocked from the window ledges. There is blood in the hall. What happend while I was gone.
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