Page 23 - Vol. VI #3

Cut the shit, Doc. Just hand over the pills. You could say.
Olivia reaches behind her into a small safe on her Dr. Fang watches Olivia’s face. They listen to the bedside table, withdrawing a wad of cash before sprinklers outside.
adding the roll Angie gave her earlier. She passes it all to Dr. Fang, MD. As he counts the money, she turns and coughs hard over her shoulder. In the round cage by the window, her parrot, Elton, flaps his wings and squawks:
Stay strong, Ms. Goldblatt.
O.G. does it like it should be does! O.G. got dem chrome wheels!
Always, Doctor.
~
“Without meaning to, figure-eights between their parent’s legs. Angie
the hairdresser thinks how easy it would be
to drown the frail old hag. Or choke her dead, either one.”
stands beside the receptionist at the front desk, making them sign in as visitors. The receptionist gives them all badges with their names written in red. The female residents waddle and bumble in bright shirts whilst cooing over the young ones, most of whom meet their gazes with discomfort. The male residents stand in corners whispering. Angie greets the hairdresser and lets her skip over signing in with the receptionist, leading her personally to Olivia’s room.
I don’t have that much on me, ma’am, Dr. Fang says after counting the money.
Angie’s pupils are quite small, the hairdresser no- tices. Just pinpoints really, her eyes rimmed in red.
The hairdresser shows up a half hour later, and by now the anxiety around the talent show verges on hilarity. Families swarm in by the carload, their children gnawing plastic toys or running
Everything you got then. Including your next stops. I’ll pay premium.
It’s like the first day of kindergarten in here, Angie says with a smile.
Could I survive without you?
She opens Olivia’s door and the hairdresser steps in as she shuts it behind her. She does not see Olivia at first—only a crumpled brochure on a tightly made bed. She bends to look at the bro- chure and examines the cruise ship on its cover. Elton whistles from his cage at her short skirt and black stockings.
You’ll find out soon enough, Olivia says.
Doctor Fang hands her his entire suitcase, keep- ing only his tote with his stethoscope and uten- sils. His enormous face is as emotionless as always.
You shouldn’t say things like that. You haven’t been using too much yourself?
Over here, Veronica.
Only as much as I need for the pain. Worse than before?
Always the same.
Which makes it worse.
The hairdresser turns and sees Olivia in the bath- room, her wheelchair backed up to the sink, her head already resting on the porcelain.
There you are, Ms. G. (continued on next page) 14