Chapter 6: Second Diagnosis
«Shit!»
As an Indian immigrant, I came to English relatively late in life, learning it only as part of my primary schooling rather than from infancy, so I have a more cerebral approach to the language than a native speaker. When I first came to this country and was in a situation where I felt the need to cuss fluently and reflexively, I did it in Marathi, my birth language, not in English. This gave me the same cathartic release that cussing does in any language, but since almost no one understood me, I trained myself out of this over the span of years.
The result is that I tend to be more imaginative with my imprecations than a native speaker, but as I acculturate I’m shifting to greater use of traditional English curses, especially when highly agitated, as now.
«Shit, shit, shit!! And nostril zits besides!»
The quasi-natural retreat area permitted Kaitlyn and I to join in rapport, which we now did reflexively whenever possible for the same reason a mundane loving couple holds hands from time to time.
Thus it was that Kaitlyn “heard” my internal imprecations, stopping her work on Papa Ramón to direct her magical attention at the…things…in her mother’s body that’d caught mine.
«Shit indeed, Davie! That little bastard metastasized before you destroyed the primary cancer!»
It was a summary statement of the obvious tableau before us, not a question, her referent the lump in Mary’s pancreas, the one I thought I’d eradicated last Labor Day weekend. Plainly not.
I took a calming breath, then through the bond sent, «Yup.» My mage’s inner eye could see a dozen of the blasted little things now that I was looking for them. They were currently tiny, but I knew this was very bad even so.
“What‽” demanded Mary, the happiness in her eyes fading at the serious look in mine. She then looked over at her daughter and saw the same look there.
Through the bond, I bade my wife, «Play along.»
I pushed a fresh-made smile onto my face, one as far removed from a genuine smile as grandma’s cookies are from a bag of Oreos, telling Mary, “I was just contemplating how much stronger you feel than the last time we did this. I’ve, ah, been having trouble keeping myself under control. I’m afraid it doesn’t help that you’re lubricating.”
I then resumed my work, and Kaitlyn resumed hers.
My evasion must have been effective, because Mary said, “Yes, ever since all this nudism began, I’ve been more careful with my diet, and I’ve been going out of my way to take more exercise where possible: parking at the back of the lot, taking the stairs, parking only once when going on a trip to multiple nearby shops and walking between, that sort of thing.”
“Well, it looks good on you, Mary.”
“Thanks,” she said with a small blush. “I suppose you should know that I’d already intended to arrange another Davie Certificate later tonight. How about it Ramón, Kate-love? Can I have another slice of chocolate cake? Mother’s Day is coming up, you know.”
“I guess you’ll just have to wait and see what presents you get on the day,” my wife teased.
Ramón just grunted in amusement.
Mary answered, “I can wait, and so can you, me boyo,” referring to me. She closed her eyes, and I resumed the massage, bringing a smile back to her face.
In a clear bid to distract her parents, Kaitlyn pressed her finger on a spot high up on her dad’s back, asking, “Are you particularly attached to this skin tag?”
Drawing on his considerable dad-joke powers, he replied, “Yes, Kate-girl, I am quite attached to it, and it to me, but if you can get rid of it, you have my blessing.”
Through the bond, she asked, «Same idea as how you healed Carmen’s fallopian tube, right?»
«Yup,» I confirmed. «Cut it off at the base of the stalk, flush with the healthy skin line, then heal the cut. Easy-peasy.»
She did as I recommended, then stuck her tongue out in disgust at the result. «What do I do with this little bit of nastiness, Davie?»
«Disintegrate it, I guess,» I told her.
She flicked it gingerly onto the sand, pulling her fingernail back and forth through a nearby patch in an effort to cleanse it before turning the dead bit of flesh into a tiny pile of carbon and trace elements, plus a puff of water vapor.
«Good riddance!» she said to me through our link. Then aloud, she informed her father, “Gone-ski.”
“Just that easy?” Papa Ramón asked.
“Just that easy,” my wife confirmed.
“Thanks, Kate-girl! I’m proud of you.”
I saw her eyes tear up a bit at that as she wordlessly resumed his massage.
In bed that night back at our house, I said, “I didn’t get everything fixed for Ann. She’s just got so much going wrong, as elderly as she is. At the moment I’m mainly triaging what I find to focus on the most acute problems. We need to return soon and continue the work. Maybe go four-handed on her, even.”
Kaitlyn asked, “Were you tempted to try sex magic to get it all done faster?”
I shook my head. “If she’d asked me to take her to bed, I’d have had to agree on ethical grounds for the same reason that a hospital emergency room has to treat someone who shows up without insurance.” With a shrug Kaitlyn felt along her upper back, nestled as my little spoon, I added, “She didn’t ask, I didn’t offer.”
“That’s actually the temptation I was speaking of, Davie, not the prurient sort: the temptation to fix a problem even if it’s not clear that the other party wants the solution you’re offering. Was it unethical to withhold the offer?”
That set me back on my heels. Was she right? I thought on this long and hard while my wife breathed calmly in my arms, finally saying, “I think I have to take her socialization, culture, and religious beliefs into account as well. I’m pretty sure if I’d offered, she’d have rejected not just the offer but also me and this whole family. She’d have been utterly scandalized. She might have even stirred up public trouble for us. What benefit to her then? What of the thousands of future clients we’d never see, unable to launch our therapy business here?”
“You’re probably right,” Kaitlyn agreed resignedly.
It was a tough call. We can’t do sex magic if the other party isn’t willing.
“…Which brings me to the sex magic I can do,” I said, bringing us to the topic Kaitlyn was clearly trying to avoid.
Over her head, I saw a tear roll down her nose, then heard a big sniff, her delicate hand coming up to wipe the tears away.
Rather than wait for her to speak, I continued, “I’ll fix it, Kaitlyn. I’m more skilled now, and I’m out of the closet with your mother as a nature mage. Since last time, we’ve invented the continuous recharge technique. I’ll fix her even if it means I end up collapsed on the ground beside her, so exhausted you have to heal me in turn. This I swear to you, Kaitlyn my love.” Then I lifted one of her hands over her shoulder and kissed the back of it, tasting her tears and snot.
I vowed to blow those tumors to dev null, as Ritchie was my witness!
Kaitlyn fell asleep in my arms that night, too depressed even for a good-night kiss.