Page 99 of Lamb

“So, what do you think?” I pressed my foot into the wheels of Aunt Mabel’s chair, knocking it ever so slightly to get her attention.

She tutted, landing a mean kick on my shin before scuttling out of reach. She rounded back to the other side of her desk, her rummaging increasing with impatience. “I hope you don’t mind,but Lamb did share with me some parts of your story,” Mabel revealed, earning me a soft, gentle, sideways glance.

A strong discomfort ran along my chest at the sight of the vulnerable gesture. I’d rather she bite, kick, or stab me than ever look that way again.

“Mechanism of injury is an important factor to consider.”

Ash nodded.

“An ophthalmologist can tell you more, but in simple terms, the chemical exposure to your eyes has caused significant trauma,” she explained.

“Lamb,” Ash spoke softly next to me, her free hand now tugging on the sleeve of my jacket. “Why are we here?”

I turned away. “Is it going to get worse? Can it be treated?”

I could see anger forming on Ash’s face, and I could guess her reasons why. Though I had announced where we were going, I hadn’t specified why. It wasn’t for her detox or general health but for her eyes; a sensitive subject for her, both physically and psychologically. Even so, her head turned as Mabel opened her mouth to answer, that slither of hope betraying her.

Mabel pulled a board from under her desk, one familiar to many. It had the letters from big to small across the board, and Mabel propped it up against her shoulder, no more than an arm’s reach from Ash. She pointed at the biggest letters, looking straight at Ash. “Read this.”

Ash frowned, but after a moment of hesitation, began to read, “A … R … L …”

At the second line, Ash made it through, but her eyes were already squinting hard.

At the third, she struggled.

She couldn’t make it past the fourth.

After seeing Ash suffer enough, Mabel tucked the board beneath the desk. “How was your eyesight as a child? Did you need glasses?”

Ash shook her head.

“Did you ever struggle to read things up close or far away?”

Another shake.

“Do you know what substance they put over your eyes?” Mabel asked the question as bluntly as the others, as if it was a normal question to ask during a routine physical exam.

I didn’t expect Ash to answer, or at least dodge the question, but much to my surprise, she took Aunt Mabel’s question with stride.

“I don’t know. They brought a bucket and dunked the cloth before putting it over my eyes. It smelled like petrol, but I do not think that was the only thing they used. They wore gloves, and it smelled sharp, but I cannot tell you much more than that.”

Aunt Mabel nodded, her fingers tapping, the invisible mental image of a notebook and pen in her hand jotting down the information. “I’d like to send you for more in-depth testing, perhaps at a main branch hospital.” Mabel sighed, and Ash straightened into a rod. Mabel just rolled her eyes at her reaction. “Relax, I know that’s not on the table now. But it doesn’t mean it will be forever off it, so consider it.” She wafted her hand, but her eyes stayed tightly fixed on Ash’s. “I don’t think laser surgery will do much good for your cornea scarring, considering its severity, so you’d probably be looking at a cornea transplant. As for the actual state of your vision, I’d say it likely won’t get better.”

If Ash was surprised or upset by the news, she didn’t show it. Her hand remained calmly tucked into mine, and her head raised to face Aunt Mabel as she continued to ramble on in detail about how cornea transplants work and other things. I stayed silent, watching her quietly, trying to pick apart the small pieces of emotion she had hidden in the corners of her face. I struggled to find them and wondered if Ash truly didn’t mind, or had longsince given up hope. I hoped it was the former, even knowing it was the latter.

“Now, if you don’t mind, Christopher, giving us a little privacy?”

“I do, actually,” I returned to the conversation, facing the challenge in the feeble lady’s eyes.

She raised a brow with an expression I had seen so many times over the years.

“Get out before I kick you out,” Mabel huffed, shifting herself in her big computer chair, ready to hop onto her feet.

I raised my free hand in surrender, rolling my eyes at the batty old lady. “Fine,” I grunted, turning back to Ash.

She was searching my face, a mix of unease and insecurity rushing across those features that had been a mask only moments ago. I didn’t need to tell her how much her need for me to stay by her side affected me. I pulled up our joined hands, pressing a soft kiss to the back of hers.

“I’ll be outside.” With that, I let go of her palm, her fingers hanging onto mine in a brief, lingering hold before I slipped out of reach, heading to the door.

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