became mountainous. Perry Lyman’s eyes and cheeks wrinkled and warped and dripped like melting cheese.
It wasn’t the urge to blab I felt this time, though sentence fragments careened inside my head (“… words, the opposite of food …, ” “… forward divided by backward equals sideways …”), but a deeper, fiercer impulse. I wanted to eat my dentist, to consume him. Next, I’d chew my way through the whole building, the cars in the parking lot, the landscaped grounds. I saw myself as a mammoth caterpillar lengthening and swelling with each bite until there was nothingleft but air and everything that had been outside, in my way, was finally inside, a source of strength and energy.
“Suction. More suction,” Perry Lyman said. The technician swooped in with her tools. The office roared.
As the hammering, cracking, and drilling went on, the sedatives seemed to get the best of me. Soon, it was not just dead tissue being removed, but diseased impressions, infected memories. The rank taste of deer meat was whisked out of my skull by a pair of sparkling diamond pliers. Next, I felt my need for Audrey gripped by steel pincers that sparked like jumper cables. It wouldn’t come loose, though, and slipped back down my throat, lodging in my stomach, where it burned.
“Flatten your tongue,” Perry Lyman said. “Stop talking.”
“How could I be talking? I’m not talking.”
My dentist howled. A peaceful blackout followed. When I came to he was bandaging his forefinger with a cotton ball and white cloth tape.
“You bit me,” he said.
I fell asleep again. When I woke up, it appeared that time had passed. Perry Lyman had changed from his lab coat into a sports jacket and seemed to be about to leave the office.
“I’m sorry I bit you.”
“I understand,” he said. “It’s not surprising, considering our history.”
“Is my father here to pick me up?”
“His friend got a liver. Your father’s been called away. Your mother’s at an all-day paramedic class.” Perry Lyman buttoned up his jacket. “You can hang out at my house. See my helicopter.”
“Are they out?”
“They’re out. Completely out.”
My cheeks were packed with bloody gauze as Perry Lyman walked me to the helicopter parked on a concrete pad behind his farmhouse. The craft had no doors, just a see-through plastic bubble shielding an instrument panel and two small seats. Using gestures to spare my swollen jaws, I asked Perry Lyman to take me for a ride.
“Maybe someday,” he said. “Now, about your medication …”
I crossed my arms, prepared to stand my ground.
“Personally, I don’t see much improvement. In fact, I see warning signs. But I’m not you. I used to try to be everyone, of course, but that got tiring. Awfully lonely, too. Conclusion: you do what you want. It’s your own chemistry.”
I took the gauze out. “Thank you.”
“Hush, you’ll bleed.”
“The pills make me feel like me. I never did before.”
“Then how would you know what it feels like? Shush. Don’t answer.”
Perry Lyman changed his mind about going up in the helicopter. We strapped on seat belts and put on cushionedheadsets with microphones that extended in front of our chins. We left the ground with the cockpit tilted down, as if we were going to crash into the trees, but a few seconds later we leveled off.
“To answer me, tap on your mike,” said Perry Lyman. “One for yes and two for no.”
I tapped.
I didn’t recognize the local landmarks; Perry Lyman had to point them out. The school was a black rectangle of roofing tar strewn with silver puddles. The golf course being constructed west of town was a collection of dirt piles and shallow trenches where the clubhouse and condos were going in. I managed to spot my house and yard because of the dozens of yellow tennis balls left over from Joel’s practice sessions against the wall of the garage.
“Like it up here?” said Perry Lyman.
Tap.
“Ready to set her down
It wasn’t the urge to blab I felt this time, though sentence fragments careened inside my head (“… words, the opposite of food …, ” “… forward divided by backward equals sideways …”), but a deeper, fiercer impulse. I wanted to eat my dentist, to consume him. Next, I’d chew my way through the whole building, the cars in the parking lot, the landscaped grounds. I saw myself as a mammoth caterpillar lengthening and swelling with each bite until there was nothingleft but air and everything that had been outside, in my way, was finally inside, a source of strength and energy.
“Suction. More suction,” Perry Lyman said. The technician swooped in with her tools. The office roared.
As the hammering, cracking, and drilling went on, the sedatives seemed to get the best of me. Soon, it was not just dead tissue being removed, but diseased impressions, infected memories. The rank taste of deer meat was whisked out of my skull by a pair of sparkling diamond pliers. Next, I felt my need for Audrey gripped by steel pincers that sparked like jumper cables. It wouldn’t come loose, though, and slipped back down my throat, lodging in my stomach, where it burned.
“Flatten your tongue,” Perry Lyman said. “Stop talking.”
“How could I be talking? I’m not talking.”
My dentist howled. A peaceful blackout followed. When I came to he was bandaging his forefinger with a cotton ball and white cloth tape.
“You bit me,” he said.
I fell asleep again. When I woke up, it appeared that time had passed. Perry Lyman had changed from his lab coat into a sports jacket and seemed to be about to leave the office.
“I’m sorry I bit you.”
“I understand,” he said. “It’s not surprising, considering our history.”
“Is my father here to pick me up?”
“His friend got a liver. Your father’s been called away. Your mother’s at an all-day paramedic class.” Perry Lyman buttoned up his jacket. “You can hang out at my house. See my helicopter.”
“Are they out?”
“They’re out. Completely out.”
My cheeks were packed with bloody gauze as Perry Lyman walked me to the helicopter parked on a concrete pad behind his farmhouse. The craft had no doors, just a see-through plastic bubble shielding an instrument panel and two small seats. Using gestures to spare my swollen jaws, I asked Perry Lyman to take me for a ride.
“Maybe someday,” he said. “Now, about your medication …”
I crossed my arms, prepared to stand my ground.
“Personally, I don’t see much improvement. In fact, I see warning signs. But I’m not you. I used to try to be everyone, of course, but that got tiring. Awfully lonely, too. Conclusion: you do what you want. It’s your own chemistry.”
I took the gauze out. “Thank you.”
“Hush, you’ll bleed.”
“The pills make me feel like me. I never did before.”
“Then how would you know what it feels like? Shush. Don’t answer.”
Perry Lyman changed his mind about going up in the helicopter. We strapped on seat belts and put on cushionedheadsets with microphones that extended in front of our chins. We left the ground with the cockpit tilted down, as if we were going to crash into the trees, but a few seconds later we leveled off.
“To answer me, tap on your mike,” said Perry Lyman. “One for yes and two for no.”
I tapped.
I didn’t recognize the local landmarks; Perry Lyman had to point them out. The school was a black rectangle of roofing tar strewn with silver puddles. The golf course being constructed west of town was a collection of dirt piles and shallow trenches where the clubhouse and condos were going in. I managed to spot my house and yard because of the dozens of yellow tennis balls left over from Joel’s practice sessions against the wall of the garage.
“Like it up here?” said Perry Lyman.
Tap.
“Ready to set her down
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