Page 98 of Lamb

Much like the waiting room, there was little deviation from the standard doctor’s office. A small, elderly woman sat behind a wide desk, long gray hair tied into a wiry braid around her shoulders, sagging eyes hidden behind thick-rimmed glasses. She looked like a dwarf in the large office chair, tucked in the corner with a bookshelf overhanging her workspace, full of random anatomy books and colored files with loose papers jutting out. The desk surface reflected the chaotic organizational system, if you could even call it such. Pens, papers, devices, and tools were scattered amongst the piles of paperwork, sticky notes, and folders. A mug sat abandoned, coffee stains dried on the surface, next to the large dinosaur computer.

“Doctor,” the receptionist said from the doorway, looking displeased with our abrupt entry. “Your two o’clock is here …”

The doctor’s wrinkles pinched as she took in our standing figures lingering in the doorway. “Thank you, Carol.” She smiled, waving an old, freckled hand.

Carol returned it and, without a second glance at either of us, closed the door and disappeared.

“Doctor.” I smiled, offering a hand over the wasteland she called a desk. “You haven’t aged a day.”

“Christopher.” The woman’s dark eyes narrowed, taking a long peruse up and down my length. “I can’t say the same about you.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Ash’s head turning back and forth like a ping pong ball between us, trying to piece together the puzzle with missing parts.

“This”—I changed my outstretched hand into an introducing gesture—“is mygreat-aunt, Dr. Mabel Burkitt.”

A sharp pinch shot up my palm, and I jerked my hand away from the vicious woman as fast as I could.

“The great was unnecessary.” She glowered before turning to Ash with that deceptively gentle, old lady smile. “Pleasure to meet you, dear.”

Ash stared at her with wide eyes and a gobsmacked expression, as if an alien might have landed on Earth right in front of her. It lasted a long time before she noticed the woman’s hand extended toward her.

Panicked, Ash jumped onto the hand, both hands wrapping around the fragile bony fingers. “Sorry,” she apologized, eyes cautiously flickering back to me and then Aunt Mabel, unable to reconcile us together. “I have just never seen him so …friendly.”

“I’m sure.” She nodded. “It took a while, but hisactingis flawless … when he chooses to use it.”

Ash’s mouth turned into a small circle, eyes bright. “So, you know about … hisdisposition.” She gestured loosely up and down my body.

“His disposition?” Aunt Mabel didn’t even try to hide the sharp cackle that burst from her mouth. “Sure, let’s call it that.”

“Perhapsprogrammingwould be a better descriptor,” Ash muttered to herself, not loud enough for an older lady to hear, but enough for my ears.

Aunt Mabel gestured to the two foam seats in front of her desk, and Ash guided herself cautiously into it. Seeming to remember where she was, her eyes lit up with unsettled energy, darting around the room—the apparatus and the wall charts—before lingering longer on the scattered items on the desk.

“Christopher and I have a deal,” Aunt Mabel explained with a shrug, shuffling around the piles on her desk, beady eyes scanning like a crow. I settled into the chair next to Ash. “If he acts like a human, I shall treat him as such.”

That caught Ash’s attention. She leaned forward, peering closer at my aunt. “And if he does not?”

“If he chooses to act like a robot, then I’ll take him to the closest junkyard and sell him for scrap parts.” She shrugged, and I reveled as Ash’s jaw dropped to the floor. “Society is for humans, not robots,” she continued, the familiar drawl falling off her tongue with ease as it had done for many years. “Being born with a low emotional intelligence will do little to change where you’re born. It’s better to fake it till you make it, as they say.”

Her eyes lit up with more life than she had shown previously as she spotted a small, thin barreled penlight underneath an upturned file.

“Aunt Mabel was the only one who agreed to post my bail.” I shrugged, leaning in and whispering into Ash’s ear. I watched the shiver run over her body at my nearness, pleased when she didn’t outright jerk away from me. “I paid for the bond, but everyone needs a guarantor. Aunt Mabel was the only one willing to sign for me.”

“You needed bail?” Ash turned to me, her face close enough that, for the first time, I noticed a small splattering of freckles faintly dusted over her nose. A pink blush rose up her cheeks before she ducked away, easing but not subsiding the strong urge I had to kiss her, not caring who was watching.

“Don’t get worn out too soon, sweetie,” Mabel interrupted, pushing away from her desk and rolling skillfully on the wheels of her office chair. She swung around with a spry not suited to her age and parked in the small gap between Ash and thedesk. Their knees almost touched as Aunt Mabel gave the little penlight a few smacks into her palm before turning it on.

Ash jerked straight, her back almost slamming into the back of the chair at the sudden invasion. If Aunt Mabel had noticed or was offended, she didn’t show it. She closed the small bit of breathing space Ash had made herself, armed for battle with her penlight.

Crooked, skinny fingers cupped Ash’s chin, and Ash’s hand jumped into mine. She bore down hard, her knuckles turning white from the force as Mabel pulled Ash closer, pointing the penlight directly into her face. Flicking it from one side to the other, her scarred eyes were now jarringly white in the bleaching light. She continued doing all sorts of maneuvers, some of which served no purpose whatsoever.

When Mabel eventually turned off the penlight and tucked it into the top pocket of her white doctor’s coat, she reclined back into her chair with a gentle, saturated sigh. “You poor soul,” she mourned, shaking her head. “You’ve been through a lot.”

Ash, still blinking rapidly from the effect of the light, frowned in her general direction.

Mabel turned and began rummaging through her junkyard desk again, the unhappy energy clouding around her. “Eyes like yours don’t get that way by accident.”

A weight hung from Ash’s head as she tucked her chin into her chest, staring down into her lap. She reached up to rub at her eyes, whereas her other hand went limp in my grip. I held tight in return, not letting her escape.

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