Page 22 of Obsession of the Egoist
Wandering somewhere in the depth of his thoughts, he listened for a little boy’s mumbles as he swallowed word endings and stuttered now and then. He recounted to his mother how the other day his friend Frederic and the neighbor’s cat, Wiener, had played Godzilla with sand buildings. Wiener, of course, had the best role and ruined the whole city. Fighting the smile, Kuon tilted his head to the side.
A cool hand cupped his cheek, caressing his skin with slow, circular motions. A gentle thumb brushed over his lips, outlined his chin. Kuon instinctively shrunk back. The hand twitched and disappeared, leaving behind the mixed scent of spicy fragrance and bitter tobacco.
BA-DUMP.Kuon’s heart slammed against his ribs, then tripled its rate. He rushed to his feet and turned to the direction where he thought another person stood and stretched out his hand. His fingers wide apart, he chased after the slipping mirage. Inching forward, he swung his hand in the air but caught nothing.
“What are you doing?” The low voice that sounded like a breaking crust of bread reached his ears, followed by the deep throaty laughter, then a wide palm landed on his shoulder. The clean scent of mandarin and lavender washed over Kuon. “Catching a fly?”
This time the voice came from above, and Kuon instinctively lifted his face. He could feel the warmth coming from Rick’s body with his skin.Too close.Subduing the first urge to step back, Kuon shrugged.
“Nothing… It must be my imagination. It’s not possible,” he mumbled, touching his cheek. “I guess I’m just nervous.”
“Come on, the doc is waiting for you. Take my hand and be careful; the staircase is coming. Unless you want me to get a wheelchair?”
Kuon shook his head, hating the idea. When a huge palm weaved with his, the immense warmth coming from Rick engulfed Kuon, suffocating him. Pushing through the need to snatch his hand away, he clenched his teeth and leaned closer to Rick’s shoulder so he could feel the balance of his body and orient better.
“Watch out, there’re three steps down.”
THE WORLD CRASHED IN FRONTof Yugo’s eyes as he watched the man he didn’t know leading Kuon down the corridor. He couldn’t bring himself to blink, and soon his eyes burned from the dry air. Even when Kuon’s frame disappeared on the lower level, he kept staring unable to look away.
“What happened to his eyes?” Yugo whispered and dropped his focus to his fingers, where the warmth of Kuon’s skin still lingered.
Greg didn’t reply, but Yugo felt his confused gaze at the back of his head.
“What the fuck is wrong with his eyes?” Yugo yelled, spun on his heels, and grabbed his subordinate by the collar of his baggy jacket. The pain and desperation shredded his self-control to pieces.
Greg hung his head, and Yugo released the collar.
“Go and find out who his doctor is. I want to talk to him.”
“HE HAS A LIGHTER STAGEof the third-degree ocular burn. His corneas sustained serious thermal damage. Luckily, due to the short impact and the immediate medical attention, his crystalline lens and nerves are fine, and there is no sign of deep necrosis, but he still requires a keratoplasty.”
The doctor’s calm voice irritated Yugo’s every nerve. “A what?”
“A cornea transplantation.” The doctor circled the neat mahogany desk and lowered himself in a black office chair. His fingers clasped together as he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the smooth surface of the polished wood. His blue scrubs bulged on his arms with toned muscles. His wrinkled, speckled face was intelligent and lively, his eyes kind but attentive, as the silver on his temples brought him a strong sense of reliability.
“Then what are you waiting for? When will you operate?” Yugo’s voice dripped with irritation. The urge to have a smoke ignited his blood, as his neurotic fingers fiddled with an unlit cigarette that exuded the sweet smell of tobacco leaves and vanilla.
“His healing process is going well. There is no inflammation, no necrosis, so we put him on medication and a waiting list. Thousands of people wait for transplantation, you know,” the doctor explained. He took off his glasses and rubbed the red prints on the bridge of his nose left by the nose pads.
“How much?” Shaking the unpleasant feeling that bargaining always caused him, Yugo waited for the answer. Money ruled the world. This was the only truth—the truth he knew best. Money never let him down, had never done before, and it was not about to start now.
The doctor chuckled and shook his head. Yugo frowned. He didn’t like feeling like an idiot. His hand twitched, then clenched in a fist.
The doctor’s expression and his smile turned sympathetic.
“You don’t understand, Herr Santell. His insurance can cover the costs, so money isn’t a problem.”
“Then what the hell is the problem?” Yugo’s chest vibrated with annoyance. “Do your fucking job! Restore his vision.”
Despite Yugo’s tone, the doctor didn’t lose his smile. The man put the glasses on. “Let me explain the process. Corneas, like any other organs, come from a donation from a recently deceased individual with no diseases. Organs go to people at the top of the list with the best compatibility. To ensure the highest success rate of the surgery and decrease rejection, we run a series of tests to make sure the HLA-DR and HLA-B genes match.” The doctor smiled, his index finger drawing a phantom spiral in the air. “As I have already informed Herr Leiris, transplantation carries certain risks. It doesn’t guarantee his vision will be fully restored or that his body wouldn’t reject new corneas. But even if the corneas are the perfect match and he is at the top of the list, it’s still too early. Only seven months have passed. To perform keratoplasty at least a year needs to pass after the trauma.”
Yugo pushed the air through gritted teeth, rose from the chair, and approached the window. The bright sun blessed juicy grass and trees, filling the air with serenity. The pristine blue sky rolled over the horizon, and not a single cloud marred it. For some reason, the view made Yugo feel wrong. He crumpled a cigarette in his fist as a need to splash the blackness of his soul all over the landscape and destroy this beautiful day took over.
“How did this happen?” he twisted his lips, cringing from the weak sound of his voice.
“I don’t know the details. All I know is that the thermal damage came from some kind of explosives.” The doctor lifted his hands in dismay and granted Yugo with an apologetic smile. “Why don’t you ask Herr Leiris about it? I have already overstepped my boundaries here.”
As if I can do that…Yugo thought before coming up to the doctor and shaking his hand.
