jamila
medina (Holguin, 1981)
medina (Holguin, 1981)
three moments to Debbie Malone: \u200b\u200b
Teaspoons (II)
To
Casey Calvert:
who wrote through me without my knowledge.
who wrote through me without my knowledge.
Thursday I got dressed and called my daddy to lend me his driver again Thursday. It was my clinic day and he could not refuse.
After some slight kick when we were already accustomed: daddy and I better: daddy, its thursday-taxidriver and I (I need it, daddy, look I will make a scandal in the office, daddy, then we ask for and took two for five weeks without a period ...) I got it. Luckily daddy can not stand to talk about blood in front of his new secretary (white meat deliciously rebosadas and varicose legs), less than menses.
blood but Ray is preferred. I think. After brain shake, then the bit and everything else, it goes to our holes. These people, well oiled by the edge: because the bones also bleed, what sweetness, Ray told me in ecstasy eye-holes we love neuros open on a beautiful example (here I know that mine looked indecent, in bad lust carried) of human skull, which we harassed by pressures.
Best of Ray's who was also a gynecologist. And that has been programmed (in unfathomable, loaded like my cup of tea curricula) for general practitioners not-know-what-else. So I do not need to see her lovely face between my legs more than anyone, nor anyone else I "depressed" by placing a disposable wood pallet on my tongue, for digging into my tonsils, and I pricked fingertips, neatly, to see my blood run ... and analyzed step.
Promptly climbed seven floors (hated the blonde whispers, faux blonde, slim ankles, chains surrounded by metal slightest Charm, imitation metal, driving the elevator). I knocked gently at the door and waited to hear his voice. Not that I'm waiting for someone else: Ray is MY personal physician. Not that I feared to interrupt a round (of those that comments on how beautiful and nice liver tumor) of doctors. Everyone knows at the clinic Thursday at five p.m. Ray I is reserved to me. And to anyone else.
pass said with that tone of apparent indifference with which I always received, and I of course never believe. I knew I was shaking. I went and did go to my nana, pointing with a nod (under the scalp, dura mater, arachnoid that part ...: each layer of pastry in my skull unsettling), and he nodded before me point out (as desired and I know).
charge made himself right away and then, when everything arranged for tea, it was my nana who nodded and apologized (we saw this: an old skull, disgusting, wobble) ... and I let her go. I put
properly: milk and two lumps of sugar and, of course, a neat piece of tea into his cup. He had learned to calculate con primorosa exactitud las proporciones. Hizo girar, primero en redondo y luego en cruz la cucharilla: por disolver lenta pero cabalmente toda el azúcar. Golpeteó leve con ella sobre el borde de la taza, escurriendo cada gota. Y yo quise ser la taza, pensé en aquella fría cucharilla recorriendo el borde de mis labios rosáceos: escanciando la dispendiosa gelatina entre mis muslos.
Bebió con fruición y preguntó al fin: qué te sientes hoy, princesa –de nuevo el tono glacial que pretendía helarme el tuétano («para comerme mejor», ¿no, querido?: hubiera deseado escupirle a la cara, porque yo conocía sus deseos). De nuevo la cabeza, de egipcia probidad (ya I would also like Debbie, have you, dear Yorick, presiding over his desk: longed sympathetic) on the neck snowy Ray: in an imperceptible bow bent, and paying attention. Cursed Thinker, I poured with eyes (to me maudlin heart skipped a beat when I played for Ray Murthay ask again: What is today Debbie Mallone ...) the marble sculpture that presided over his desk. And your shot-Rodan in solitary session Rimey my tiny victory. Quiet
: Get on the green bed, Debby (and I hated to bail me and little-child-kind name), Ray continued the ritual. Get out before those panties, Debby (A little more and he pats the little back ... to ask, bluntly, naked pubis, the iliac and that he prized area-I had seen him touch it with a storm on the forehead, the fingertips, too often, "in which the stomach and the beginning of the leg draw a fine crease). Settle well, Debby. Over those legs open, Debby. And stop moving, Debby. And ... and ... and ... "I was mentally mimicking the usual snacks he had decided to" stay out "Ray Murthay.
But little Debbie Mallone I really wanted was to forget, predicting what Ray would say so delete it, believe it part of his head sick.
I looked and looked again to between my legs, wanting to vertigo (ever could hear, "the better to see" how the trash poured more and more gauze soaked with my cups of jelly: the longing to gelatin I called him, made a gesture with his finger and then a grimace and desperate with all the left hand, asking him to come into me).
And seeing him do ... I put words in his mouth or removed, adapting them to their lips whispering, the motions of his tongue to the palate (palatal articulating a phoneme any), or that that was a velar (kordura Debbie ... let's see if you're Trankil, Korazón) and, above all, their attention was still powerful liquid (light Debby, angry shrew mine ...). I
so, as every Thursday, under friendly edge of your eye. Were. Aperto beaver (this time I observed), was wisely crafted by Debbie Ray for fifteen (stretched and stretched Marshmallow calamellus) fortunately very long minutes, and I worked to change his words. Defoliation, the belly and me: making a personal-Debbie-bad-translation only for me to see her say what she wanted, just to make me a little pampering.
Luckily we finished the inspection and breath (I felt the mild asphyxia, the relish with which she washed her hands, but before the lick: I noticed mandatory, relying on sympathetic magic, there behind the green sheets antiseptic). Then breathe in and breathe out and a little quieter.
-Two to three months, small. No question you would like but I wonder how that might happen, if I no longer take care: To place IUDs delicate, prescribe and buy even almost putting them in your hand and a glass of water, your pills Anticop ... deal saw its
head, rarely distressed: her intracranial lava bubbling (like those balls vitreous paperweight whose bellies floating vessels).
I do not understand anything, Debbie.
But just then I was pondering this myth purulent majestic occupied thousands of skulls down there: the guys like him putting his tongue in there, to remove a tumor. Imagine your tongue between my capillaries, the thickness of my brain fluid, its powerful weight on it ... when Ray said again
"Nothing, nothing, Debbie," you explain me?
And I did not know how. Doubted (Doubt Contradict my self) if my greed was also putting words in his mouth, to estarme Ray this Thursday with a little more. Neither do I believe in parthenogenesis, or had been opening my beaver to anyone else during the last ten months. Neither do I understand anything.
We'll have to give a careful speech, a little dangerous Debby. How we do this, Debby. Did you want anything that Sir. Mallone kill us, Debby, leave without my baby Nan II, Debby? "I listened or not babble like a child grieving his need as a celestial personality unfolded Gollum: mint a" we ", making-we share in a unit for anything I understand.
Its griticos terrified and I think my dizziness understand, try to make clear, see through the well settled into my cup of tea, that was my father, who scared him kill me for this "careful interventions" that now had to undertake.
Dangerous: pink evil the trip would start, "he said. Ray did not kill me for my father was afraid, afraid to want to kill himself, was terrified that his hands and one hand he would be released from my stifling presence of the Thursday and on the other hand would be the liberators of their secret innermost desires, your unconscious triggers. Fear of you, afraid of you! "I tried to scream but I was late, did not respond herds language: Having stopped watching the beautiful, sweetest hands of Ray, they had engaged to supply directly into the vein, its pain-killers.
I started to see blurry and I knew the rest: Ray Murthay like floating over me (beautiful night mare ... I mean the incubus, the inoculated nightmare that is brewing, I think, in the cerebellum), be responsible first kiss in the mouth, the whole mouth under Debbie Ray, under their weight or power. Not for necrophilia, which goes: but to reward, thank, and finally rewarded for having me on the mountain (maybe a delicate, fine blade: precious violin string). Then it would
the banquet. I had not been behind the curtains never see green antiseptic, but surely there was a closet-perhaps provided a white kit, which would keep the lemon juice and successive ingredients orgy hot pot and the white Russian dressing and honeyed peanut butter, and myrrh and basil, even a bit of star anise and bijol, loquat jam, tomato, marked in italics his precious russet,
content ... I had never seen beyond the bed, nor would I did not know the likes of Ray, his hands groping each Thursday, their age, the androgynous smoothness of her hair, the taste of your colony right in the finger that put the compressor on my tongue ... But I knew the lesson.
He-after shave on the neck and secure the triumph of cefazolin, I would "supine". Enjoy polishing my skin with Hibiscrub and marking the incision site. Lavish-with the finery that is spent on a child-care to the most royal clothing my head. After the first cuts, escanciaría kindly, tonsil dissector: fat, galea periosteum.
No wonder I had sustained long duel with Ray: inquiring about each transaction, meaning recognize, in every gesture insurance Queiroz, the deepest, forgotten remnants of my beloved loft neurosurgeon.
knew the procedure, Hunter restrained until the end, the retractor Hansen, the burr hole, cross the dura mater and all that other shit ...
surgical not need to struggle against their "murderers of pain" to know the PUNCTURE ventricle and the endoscope that Ray had ["flexible Bronchoscope Olympus ® BF_ P10 (5mm). Can., Karl Storz ® rigid Arthroscope (5mm), Aesculap ® flexible fiberscope (5mm) 2mm working channel?] Favorite among fever-burning any tissue that touched me, "take out of their launch, for in my skull" navigate ": getting to my foramen of Monro (beautifully drawn half-moon, right Ray?) for my thalamic-I saw him chew it fluffy-way that was venosianas.
Then, in the heart of wonderful excitement, which I would never shake it for me, would practice fenestration. Murthay Ray committed suicide at the height of ecstasy for any hidden window was open or closed, back into my skull. Ray it would, after ten minutes of anesthesia to enjoy the pain. I do not had to tell me.
Later (I: do not know if completely severed the head, almost looking like Yorick and him, and with a bit of guilt welled up in her eyes, but still euphoric), would ask (are you?), Contemplating (" me?) with neutral tone, the well-known things about being and nothingness. Using the blade would cut through it, pressing her dearest clasical-rock tune ... as I opened. Violet would be my last hiding place and, as a bridge levada the top of my skull like opening a Pandora's box.
Lemon and Tabasco tend to do their work in half an hour tensarían thus perhaps too dangerously, the patience of Ray: extending far cloyingly these minutes. I can not predict, despite everything, I know little of the exact procedures of their greed. But I know that Ray (as my father would not young, I used to eat monkey brains directly from the container of your bones): tame your nerves, and the eager-lewd-secretion of saliva. And they even used some of their time in having, on the pale, pearly, and smooth surface of the tea table: the coveted delicacy.
With tongs for ice-making will take great care that nothing will spill-from Pandora's box of my head to your saucer for tea: that in all, on a blue background, a topical silver dragon scales. His white hands, trembling, let him still, spice, and orlar, and garnish the treat. And only then I do not know whether to like or more finely chopped and anxiety: stifle the little voice wanting Debbie Mallone that buzzing in the ear: leave Ray-clean their act of seasoned, a bit of brain with my teaspoon-Stainless Steel, made in United Kingdom, and will eat (do you?).
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