“I see you’ve got some games in there. Which is
your favorite ?”
“Checkers.”
“I like checkers, too. Do you play a lot?”
“Kind of.”
“You must be very smart to know how to play
checkers.”
“Kind of.” The hint of a smile.’
“I bet you win a lot.”
The smile widened. His teeth were straight and
white but the gums surrounding them were swollen
and inflamed.
“And you like to win.”
“Uh huh,-I always win my mom.”
“How ’bout your dad?”
He. gave a perplexed frown.
68
Jonathan Kellerman
“He doesn’t play checkers.”
“1 see. But if he did, you’d probably win.”
He digested that for a minute.
“Yeah, I pro’ly would. He doesn’t know :much
about playing games.”
“Anyone else you play with besides Mom?”
“Jaredbut he moved away.”
“Anybody besides Jared ?”
“Michael and Kevin.’
“Are they guys at school?”
“Yeah. I finished K. Next year I go into one.”
He was alert and responsive but obviously weak.
Talking to me was taxing and his chest heaved
with the effort,
“How about you and I play a game of checkers?”
“Okay.”
“I could play from out here with these gloves, or
I could put on one of those spacesuits and come in
the room with you. Which would you like better?”
“I dunno.’
“Well, I’d like to come in the room.” I turned to
Bev. “Could somebody help me Suit up? It’s been a
tong time.”
“Sure.” ‘
“I’ll be in there in a minute, Woody.” I smiled at
him and stepped away from the plastic wall. Rhy-thm-and-blues
music blared from the module next
door. I glanced over and caught a glimpse of a pair
of long brown legs dangling over the foot of a bed. A
black boy around seventeen was sprawled atop the
covers, staring at the ceiling and moving to the
sounds that screamed from the ghetto blaster on his
nightstand, seemingly impervious to the i.V. needles
imbedded in the crooks of both arms.
BLOOD TEST 69
“See” “”
, sala tev, speaking up to be heard, “I told
you. A sweetie.”
“Nice kid,” I agreed. “He seems bright.”
“The parents describe him as having been very
sharp. The fevers have pretty much knocked him
out but he still manages to communicate very well.
‘The nurses love himmthis whole pullout thing is
.making everyone very uptight.”
“I’ll do what I can. Let’s start by getting me in
there.”
She called-for help and a tiny Filipino nurse
appeared bearing a package wrapped in heavy brown
paper and marked STERILE.
“Take off your shoes and stand there,” ordered
the nurse, pint-sized but authoritative. She pointed
to a spot just outside the red taped no-entry zone.
After washing her hands with Betadyne, she unwrapped
a pair of sterile gloves and slipped them
on her hands. Having inspected the gloves and found
them free from flaws, she removed a folded space-suit
from the brown paper and placed it inside the
red border. It took a bit of playing with the suit–which,
in a collapsed state, looked like a heavy
paper accordion–but she found the footholes and
had ‘me step inside them. Gingerly, she took hold of
the edges a.nd pulled it up over me, tying the top
seam around my neck. Being so short, she had to
stretch to do the job so I bent my knees to make it
easier.
“Thanks,” she giggled. “Now your gloves–don’t
touch anything until they’re on.”
She worked quickly and soon my hands were
sheathed in surgical plastic, my mouth concealed
‘behind a paper mask. The headpiece–a hood fgsh-ioned
of the same heavy paper as the suit attached
70 Jonathan Kellerman
to a plastic, see-through visor–was slipped over
my face and fastened to the suit with Velcro strips.
“How does that feel ?”
“Very stylish.” The suit was oppressively hot
and I knew that within minutes, despite the cool
rapid airflow in the unit, I’d be drenched with
sweat.
“It’s our continental model.” She smiled “You
can go in now. Half hour maximum time. The clock’s
over there. We may be too busy to remind you, so
keep an eye on it and come out when the time’s
up.”
“Will do.” I turned to Bev. “Thanks for your