Girl, You Have No Faith in Medicine

“It’s just an equivalent of a men’s period.” Dr. Hollis, the old grey and the whiskered family doctor explained. “It’s a remnant of our past biological functions which we no longer need but still comes up to inconvenience us every once and a while… like our wisdom teeth or tonsils.

“So, he’s going to be fine?” Mom asked.

“Oh, indeed. It’s something a few males still struggles with his age,” Dr. Hollis adjusted his glasses and made notes on his pad.

Mom places her hands on her chest and sighed in relief.

“Can you prescribe him something or...?” Mom wondered.

“Diapers, maybe?” Dr. Hollis laughed. That really didn’t amuse me. “If the problem gets too difficult to manage, then maybe we can prescribe some Lupron or other hormone therapy, but that’s up to the boy.”

“Are there any side effects of that ****?” I asked. I wanted to get rid of the shame of waking up like a toddler with his pants wet, but I was wary of chemical alterations.

“Some. Night sweats, hot flashes, nausea…” Dr. Hollis listed more and more, and I started to panic. That didn’t really sound that great compared to a little shame. Sensing my unease, Dr. Hollis spoke up once more. “There is another alternative… we can adjust his neural implant, but I can’t do it here. The Yellowfield Institute takes care of that. Every once and a while a few implants can… have complications, and they would just need to adjust the settings.”

“Does that hurt?” I asked.

“No, not at all. It’s done wirelessly through their fancy fandango machinery,” Dr. Hollis says. “Would you like me to book you a referral with them?”

I thought about it. It sure sounded a lot better than having to take **** for the rest of my life. “Can I sit on it? Maybe it’s not so bad and only happens a couple of times a year. I don’t mind that.”

“Honey, you really should take your health more seriously. This boy.... I swear. Doctor, he always put things off. Can you please get him a referral for the adjustment as soon as possible.” Mom chimes in.

“I just don’t want to do something I can’t take back. I feel fine…” I said. Though she was right. I was just saying this cause I was lazy and didn’t want to come in to deal with it. The people at the Institute always gave me the fantods.

“Technically, I’m legally obligated to report all these types of incidents to the Institute. They may go ahead with the adjustment anyways.” The Doctor adds casually continuing to write down on his notepad.

Well… at least that puts things out of my hands. I didn’t really care, really.

“Thank you, Doctor Hollis. It’s just a relief to know my boy is alright. We’ll call you if anything else happens,” The Moms gets up and shakes the Doctor’s hands. I did the same, and we both left the Doctor’s office.

In the car, Mom put on her seatbelt and said, "Now, Cliff. If you get any of those... night time problems, be sure to tell me."

Yeah as if.

On the way back, Mom made a turn that didn’t go to our house, and I asked, “Where are we going?”

“Seeing as you are fine, I thought I’d drop you off at your school.”

Ah, crud. I gritted my teeth.

“Have fun at school!” Mom called out and waved from her car. "Don't get into trouble!"

The school was a red-brick building on a grass field, patched with yellow spots and dirt, with a bell tower on the top. I made my way through the field and dirt road on the long trek towards the building.

Ms. Frye, our English teacher, looks at me with annoyance. She pulled out her timepiece in a showy display, once I entered the classroom. Her mahogany eyes stare daggers into me as I bowed my head, trying to avoid her gaze. I took my usual seat in the back, explaining I had an excellent reason for being late.

"Before we were just so rudely interrupted..." Ms. Frye continued where she left off.

The class was in the middle of a discussion of the book “To Kill a Mockingbird.”

Joy Harris, a tall and slender girl with a sharp chin, prominent nose, long brown hair and someone I would consider a friend, was speaking.

“There is something I don’t understand, Ms. Frye,” Joy Harris looks at her book excerpt and reads some notes. Joy was always an inquisitive type that liked to ask a lot of questions, giving her teacher's headaches. I always did like her. “They said that mugging was a capital offense. Did they really kill people just for being guilty of mugging back then?”

“Joy, you have to remember that Tom Robinson was black, and he had also roughed up Mayella in the mugging. For a black man to mug a white woman. It was just too much for a racially divided society at that time. We can’t base it on our own modern values.” Ms. Frye explains.

“That’s still pretty harsh,” Another student says, and the other students all whispered and nodded their agreement.

“It was just a sign of the times. The author wanted to show how poor the race divide was,” Ms. Frye explains.

At that, the bell sounds, and Ms. Frye clasped the book she held in her hand. “Class is dismissed. Mr. Dalton, I expect a doctor’s note next time.”

I sighed and walked to my next class. They would never teach us what we really need to know in class. None of this stuff clicked in my head. It felt like stories Ms. Frye gave us... had no point. As if the story was just plain bread and there was nothing to accompany it. We can't just live on bread alone, I thought. There was something missing.