Miguel ran his finger over each stitch, feeling all six of them. In the mirror a nurse held up for him, his partially shaved head and the short row of tied clear plastic loops on the front of his scalp looked unreal, as if he were wearing the top half of a Halloween mask.
“Don’t touch them,” the nurse chided. “Your hands aren’t sterile.”
She applied a carefully sized bandage over the closed wound to hide it and his missing hair. “That’s it, little guy. You’re all done.” She smiled at him. “Come on. You can go home now.”
He hopped off the examination table and followed the nurse through the maze of back rooms to the lobby, where the man who had brought him to the clinic waited.
“He’s all yours, Mr. Dorning,” she said, and headed back into the maze.
Dorning glanced around to see if anyone was looking, then carefully peeled back the bandage.
The boy was alarmed. “What are you doing?”
“Quiet. I want to see if it will interfere—I mean, I want to see how good a job the doctor did. I don’t know any of them here.” Dorning eyed the stitches. “Good. Not too tight, not too many. I couldn’t have done much better myself. I’ll take them out when the time comes.”
“You? Are you a doctor?”
Dorning was silent a moment as he smoothed down the edge of the bandage. “Yes. I’ve kept my license, but I don’t have time for patients anymore, I’m afraid.” He stood staring over the boy’s head at nothing in particular then roused himself and smiled weakly down at Miguel. “The good news is that the professor is no longer in immediate danger, but the bad news is that, in his current condition, there’s nothing more they can do for him. Are you ready to meet the great man?”
The boy shrugged. If all he had to do for the ride to the clinic and the stitches he needed was meet somebody famous, he would go along with it.
“Well . . . all right.”
He followed the man down the corridor, onto an elevator, up to the next floor, and into the room where a thin, white-haired man lay motionless in bed, sleeping with his arms raised over his head.
The boy peered at the man from behind Dorning. “Are you sure he’s alive? I don’t see him breathing. Wow, he sure is old.”
Dorning grunted. “Of course he’s alive. He’s terminally ill, and now he knows it, but yes, he’s alive. The best news is it isn’t spreading into his brain. Thank God, not his brain. I’ve managed to convince them to let me take him home. All they can do for him is give him more painkillers. He’ll be discharged soon. We’ll wait here.”
The frail stick figure stirred slightly as if by a breeze.
“You’re taking him home now?”
“Yes. And you’re coming with us.”
The boy froze. “I am?”
“Yes.” Dorning crouched down to look straight at the boy, who stared back at him wide-eyed. “Listen to me, Miguel. Here’s what we can offer you. The Professor has a spare bedroom in his house. You can stay there free of charge. He has a housekeeper, a woman who will give you three home-cooked meals a day—again, free of charge. The house is by the beach, with a magnificent view. You can play on the beach anytime you like if you’re careful. I could even arrange for the housekeeper to buy you a few playthings—perhaps a bicycle or a video game. Now, I assume all that would be far better than living on the streets, begging for money, getting beaten by your father, and going hungry all the time. Is that correct?”
The boy thought a moment. “So what do I have to do in return?”
A faint smile flitted across Dorning’s face. “Do? Nothing, really. Just be there to keep him company, get to know him in the time he has remaining. Soon enough you’ll get that gift of genius I promised you. Is it a bargain?”
The boy looked at the frail figure in the bed and realized the old man couldn’t possibly hurt him in any way.
“Okay. It’s a deal. But you can keep the genius gift. I don’t need it.” He held his head high.
Dorning nearly laughed. “Oh, but you’re wrong. That’s part of the bargain. You’ll be glad when you get it, I assure you. Your life will have so much more meaning, so much more purpose than it does now. You’ll become a respected and admired member of society instead of a burden. I promise.”
The boy had a terrible suspicion. “This doesn’t mean going back to school, does it?”
Now Dorning did laugh. “No, not at all. It will truly be a gift. You don’t have to do anything but let it happen. It’s not a difficult procedure, at least not for me. It won’t even require more stitches, just a simple bandage.” His expression turned darkly serious. “Listen to me, Miguel. There are people out there who would give anything to be a pioneer like this. You’ll be the very first, like Lindbergh across the Atlantic or Armstrong on the moon. It could change your life for the better practically overnight.”
The boy wavered, finally deciding Dorning meant him no harm. “Well . . . why me? Why did you pick me? Why am I so special?”
“Fair questions. It’s because you’re the right age, you’re available, and you need to be a part of this just as much as the professor does. In fact, given your present lifestyle, you might need this even more than the professor. It’s a golden opportunity, Miguel, a wonderful, rare, fantastic opportunity. I’m offering you the chance to participate in a historic, groundbreaking procedure, one that will make you famous someday beyond your wildest imagination. Don’t pass this up and regret it for the rest of your life. You need to be a part of this, more so than you can possibly realize. Is it a deal?”
Miguel looked away; he had only one more question. He grimaced slightly. “Will it hurt?”
Dorning shook his head emphatically. “Absolutely not. You’ll go to sleep, and when you wake up, it will all be over. A few days or weeks after that, your gift will begin to appear, bit by bit. It won’t happen overnight, but in time you will be perhaps the most brilliant mind on the face of the Earth as the professor once was. Now wouldn’t that be nice?”
The boy nodded solemnly, mesmerized by Dorning’s offer and persuasiveness.
Dorning held out his hand. “Is it a deal then?”
The old man in the bed stirred again as if disturbed by something.
The boy made up his mind. “Deal.”
They shook hands.
The boy tried to let go, but Dorning held his hand firmly. “I’m counting on you for this, Miguel. So is the professor. A deal is a deal, after all. This is far too important to take lightly. Do you understand? You must live up to your part of the bargain. You absolutely must.”
As Dorning squeezed his hand just a bit too tight, Miguel wondered if he was making a mistake, if he should say no and run away. Only the realization he had no particular place to run kept him in the room.
“I promise.”
Dorning let the boy’s hand go.
“Excellent. You’ve made the right decision, Miguel, one you’ll never regret.”
The boy turned and stared at the old professor, hoping the words were true.