Chapter 4 Sorry, But I Have To Catch That Flight

I was surprised that they kept their word by bringing my family, but not about the fact they forgot to mention any details of the offer that was made to me. Of course I couldn´t even speak about it in front of anyone. The only thing my loved ones could "know", and for which my father made a tremendous scandal, was that they would take me to a private center in no less than Havana, as long as we all kept a great deal of discretion. No one could find out.

The truth is we wouldn´t even stop until we got to Canada.

I was afraid that one of my brothers, or even my father, would do something stupid like posting what happened on the internet; wich could nullify my deal with these people. But the guy with glasses did not give them enough information to create legal problems. I just had to make sure they didn´t make a public scene.

I would´ve liked social networks disappear for a few days. From what I´ve heard, there was some confusion among my contacts as to whether I had been kidnapped, offered a paid vacation, or tricked into removing my organs.

The people I traveled with just laughed about it. Fortunately, the accident hadn´t caused me to lose my memory; and I cleared everything from my facebook account, with the help of an assistant who typed for me. The discussion with my family would have been longer than necessary, if I had allowed it.

"What does it mean that they are going to take you to another country?! And who assures me they´ll give you what they say?! They haven´t shown me any paper yet! First they got to pay you what they have to pay and then we´ll see what is decided!" was what my father said when he found out.

"There is nothing... to decide!" I tried to shout with the little breath that the fucking respirator gave me. "I´m in charge... of myself! I see the papers... and no one else!"

"But son...!"

"The only thing that´s going to happen... is that I am going to have a treatment... which is not possible here... They are not going to pay you... any money! And the other option... is to stay here... like this!"

The nurse entered alerted by the screams.

"Gentlemen, please! If you´re going to scream, please go outside!"

She said those last words looking at my father.

"Look," he replied, "do me a favor and call the doctor because I don´t trust you! And I´m going to take my son to another hospital! And you´ll have to pay him or...!"

"Shut... up! No! You´re not going to do... anything! Nobody... is going to do anything... without my permission! And that´s all!"

A few moments passed and he seemed about to despair of worry, until I explained it to him.

"They´re not going to give you anything... neither money... nor information, because I don´t... I don´t need you to have... that information. And you can´t decide, because... I don´t need you to decide... anything. You... don´t handle my business."

"Listen...!"

"No! I already talked to... who I had to talk to. And I... I already signed... what I had to sign."

"But son...!"

"I´ll take care of myself. Period."

A talking head telling my father, a retired police officer, how things would be. I guess he was just worried. He didn´t know much about it, but there was nothing he could do. He just wouldn´t understand it.

"What we are offering you is a total reconstruction of the damaged area, plus a therapy that will revitalize you and correct any defect or... any unwanted feature."

"You are not talking about plastic surgery..."

"Not as you imagine. Your body will heal and... purge. It will discard the cells and tissues that are replaced. We will help make the process smooth and easy. Your scars will disappear, the spots on your skin too..."

The huge chair to which I was strapped vibrated occasionally because of the turbulence in the plane, and the good doctor discussed the preparations. As for me, my mind was thinking about the possibility that my parents made a complaint.

I was looking out the window at a mixture of clouds, golden rays of the sun that crossed the blue of the sky and blurred and distant landscapes that got smaller and smaller. Brief snippets of that dream came to my mind when my interlocutor realized that I wasn´t listening.

"Do you want something to sleep?"

"It doesn´t matter. I´m just distracted."

"How do you feel?"

"Like an empty tube of toothpaste that they´re about to cut in half to get what´s left."

He laughed. A drop of saliva came out of his mouth and landed on my face.

"Forgive me!" he exclaimed, rushing to wipe my cheek.

If I could´ve, I would have punched him.

Suddenly turbulence. The guy´s mood changed suddenly and was now extremely scared. How I hated not being able to move on my own. You know, in case we had to jump. Not so much out of fear, but out of pride: I hate depending on others.

Also, I imagined the plane breaking in half, and me falling with the damn chair pressed against my back, with the artificial respirator and the monitors falling next to me. The tubes and cables around me made me angry.

I was the unintelligent parody of that guy Hawking. I was the parody of Christopher Reeves, but being a bad actor.

While the turbulence lasted and my traveling companion was struggling to put on his seat belt, I closed my eyes and tried to meditate, and that´s when I heard her. I mean... that voice... my voice. Of course, now it seems the most normal thing in the world, but at the moment it was as if someone was speaking in my ear. Someone I could trust. A friend.

"Everything is going to be alright... if you are willing to take off that costume."

My neck was itchy and I imagined ripping pieces off my body, revealing a different body and another skin underneath.

In the midst of random and meaningless thoughts, I felt myself suddenly falling at great speed. I felt the plane go down and tried to believe with all my being that it was a dream. I was wrong.

"Are you awake?" the doctor asked softly, assuming I was asleep.

I opened my eyes to discover that nothing had happened. The sun was visible near the horizon through the window, and the play of light around it was so perfect that it seemed unreal. It was like a photograph that had been photoshopped.

"Who knows... maybe I´m not real myself, and they can photoshop me" I thought.

"You got scared?" said the guy; and, before I could answer, I heard that voice again...

"You got scared? Don´t. We´re about to get there," she said.