The doctor had a round head with very little hair on it and an oval body. He wore a soiled tie and yellowed dress shirt. His short thick legs protruded from black pants and stained lab coat. He wore scuffed leather shoes. They stuck out to the side of his desk at an uncomfortable angle. A tarnished watchband played at the edge of his sleeve. He was lost in thought, looking over a pile of papers as Dawn was shown in. He tapped a pencil on the desk with thick dirty fingers.
“Scruples,” he whispered. “Scruples.”
The floor squeaked and he snapped out of his personal reflection, turned his face to the door.
Dawn was terrified. Her experience with the Principal left her wits scattered. Her new childcare worker, a tall dead man named Tony, was a nice fellow but she was afraid to even look at him. She didn’t want to accidentally involve him in anything horrible like poor Frances. The dead man seemed unaware of her feelings or any events surrounding her visit to the Principal and simply announced her arrival in a lifeless voice. He handed her a file and left.
She barely remembered the day, with her mind still caught up with Frances. Dawn was not yet allowed into lessons with the other kids, so she spent the time answering questionnaires that were set out at a little desk by the Dormitory doors. Just as the other kids were lining up for supper, Tony had walked up and…
The Doctor took some time composing himself, spending a good five minutes shuffling and then re-piling the stack of papers and files on the desk in front of him. Throughout, his eyes kept flicking over at her, enormous, blinking through thick glasses. He wore a stethoscope around his neck that he played with after pushing the files untidily away from him.
The walls behind him were covered with charts and dark wooden bookcases. The paint that showed at intervals was a murky cream color. Cracks ran from the corners of the room outward, weaving their way behind furniture and displays.
Great sheets of painted plaster bulged, ready to collapse onto the floor. There were other things on other shelves, beakers and bottles, medical instruments of brass and metal. Other things too, containers with pickled organs or animals floating in each. And plastic things too, models of bones and skeletons. File folders were piled and crumpled one atop the other. Dawn saw that a good number had fallen in heaps on the floor.
Finally, the Doctor reached out, eyes staring at the folder in her hands, and he snapped his fingers peevishly until Dawn handed it to him. He took it, flipped it open on the desk and hung his chin over it, his chair sideways to the forever girl. The note from the Principal was paper clipped on the inside of the folder. The Doctor took an unusually long time to read it.
“Dawn,” he said finally, and then asked: “Do you have a last name?”
The forever girl just shook her head solemnly. Mr. Jay had always told her to say as little as possible if something like this ever happened. He also said that he’d come running at such a time, but she couldn’t imagine how he could help her now.
The Doctor sighed, threw the file away from him. “Nobody does any more.” He cleared his throat. “Nobody admits it. A tie to the past-that has passed.” Then he looked the forever girl up and down.
“Well, Dawn, we have rules here,” he said and then cleared his throat until his eyes turned red. “Forgive me, yes.” He coughed. “Rules, that are simple.”
Dawn stood by a chair beside the Doctor’s desk. She kept her hands folded behind her back and her chin pointed to the floor. She had not been told to sit, and she wouldn’t.
“Follow the rules,” he murmured, nodded, and then slapped around on the desk for her file. He dragged it onto his lap. “If you know what’s good for you you’ll do exactly as Nursie says. She’s my -medical assistant-and I don’t suppose it would hurt you to know that she’s not right up here.”
He shook his head and pointed at it. “Not at all, but she assists with you children and answers only to the Prime. And for that matter, you’d do well to obey the Principal. He’s been known to lose his temper.” The Doctor threw the file back on the desk. “And I’ve had to treat the results of such displays of emotion.” He stood up then, and walked behind his desk.
Dawn felt the hair stand up on the back of her neck. The Doctor’s eyes flashed and his chin dipped. “Don’t-don’t be, or rather you’d be wise to do as I say also. Because, I’ll, I’ll give you an operation or something-hmm? How would you like that?” He tapped his knuckles on the desk and smiled when Dawn shivered. “I didn’t think you would.”
The Doctor chuckled to himself, but the humor sounded strained and broken. He looked at her over the top of his glasses. “Now, why…why would I say that? I shouldn’t say that!” He held his hands in front of his face-mystified.
“I wasn’t always like this.” He looked up. “He…” The Doctor lowered his voice. “ He made me this way. To die-with, by the Prime’s friends-worse, much worse than these cankers on my soul.”
Then he flipped the file open and snatched his pencil off the desk. He started writing as he spoke, “I will schedule a physical examination for you.” He flipped the file folder closed, and then wrote something on a small pad of white paper before tearing a sheet off and handing it to her.
“Come on now!” he said, when he saw her hesitate. “I don’t bite.”
Dawn hurried nimbly forward, snatched the note and jumped away.
“You give that to Nursie when she’s does her rounds. She’ll know what to do.” The Doctor’s eyes then started to slide over Dawn’s body, lingering on her little brown ankles. A look appeared on his face that made her want to run, but he broke the spell by snatching his glasses off his face and returning to his chair.
He said over his shoulder, “Go back to your Dormitory. Your worker will take you.” He turned to look at her long and hard and a strangely sympathetic expression filled his features.
“Look it’s not so bad. I have heard that it has been foretold-predicted-that the Prime by his Powers and Divine guidance will come into the possession of the First-mother. He intends to survive the end of the Change and at such a point the legend has it that life will start anew. He will then need many concubines to repopulate the earth with his seed. If you do not turn out to be the First-mother, you might at least find yourself lucky enough to be one of those and bear him many children.” The Doctor shrugged. “So, cheer up, there’s hope!”
Dawn hurried out of the room and closed the door behind her. Outside, the dead worker motioned for her to follow and she did. A shiver went through her when she peeked at the slip of paper the Doctor had given her.
It was blank.