Authors: Stewart Foster
I type ‘Bugs in cars’.
33, 900,000 results
in 0.64 seconds.
There are pictures of beetles and bed bugs crawling over car seats and eating rubbish in the footwells. I scroll down and click on the first link about the hidden bugs in cars.
There’s millions of them, munching away through air filters and pipes – a hidden enemy of microscopic bacteria causing illnesses like E-coli, Bacillus cereus, Staphylococcus.
I click on Staphylococcus.
It’s a bacteria that looks like a bunch of grapes. It causes boils, sores and abscesses all over the skin. In some cases it produces toxins that attack white blood cells!
My head hurts and my palms start to sweat.
Is that what I’ve got? Staphylococcus? It sounds like a dinosaur.
A wave of heat goes through me from my head to my toes. I was right. There’s a bug crawling all over my skin. I shut my laptop down and go back to the bathroom and look in the mirror. My
eyes are red and my cheeks are red too. I press my fingers on my cheeks and pull them away. My skin goes white, stays white – do I have dehydration, or meningitis? My skin turns red.
I’m okay. I take off my t-shirt and do the same to my body – fingers on my chest then on my stomach. My skin goes white.
Come on. Come on
. It goes red. I take a deep breath and
check for boils and sores. There’s a mark on my chest but I think it’s where I just pressed my skin with my fingers. I turn sideways and look over my shoulder. There’s a small
bruise on my right hip. I pull the waistband of my trousers down. Phew, the bruise doesn’t go any further and Staphylococcus doesn’t cause bruises anyway.
‘Joe, what are you doing?’
I look up and see Beth in the mirror.
‘I’m . . . I’m just checking . . .’
‘What for?’
‘Staphylococcus.’
Beth shakes her head slowly.
‘You’ve been on your laptop again. How many times do I have to tell you?’ She gives me my t-shirt. ‘Just leave it to the doctors . . . And you shouldn’t be up,
anyway!’
I put my t-shirt back on again. I know she’s right but I can’t stop looking.
‘Come on,’ she says, ‘maybe you’ve done too much today.’ She walks with me back to my bed.
I lie down and look at my laptop again. I’m addicted to it. Some people like Mike are addicted to alcohol and some people are addicted to chocolate and biscuits. I’m addicted to
finding out about every disease in the world. I turn and look at Beth.
‘Just close your eyes,’ she says. ‘Sometimes sleep is the best cure.’
I’m so glad she’s here.
11 years, 3 months and 18 days
I’m lying on my bed watching my screens with Beth. The doctors were right. The drugs have been fighting inside me for three days. Sometimes I feel hot and want to take my
t-shirt off. Sometimes I feel cold and wrap myself in blankets. And sometimes I feel hot and cold at the same time. I can’t sit still when that happens. I’m having a good day today, but
I might not tomorrow.
Beth nudges me and points at screen 4.
Keith is talking to Julie in reception. She’s laughing and prodding him on the arm. Keith is laughing too – he’s standing by the drinks machine with a bunch of flowers hidden
behind his back. He says something. Julie looks mad and punches his arm. Keith opens his mouth wide – hey! He pulls the flowers out from behind his back – surprise! Julie puts her hand
up to her mouth. Beth does the same.
‘Awww, it’s so cute,’ she says.
‘I think they’ll get married,’ I say.
‘You think so?’
‘Yes, you watch.’
Keith hands Julie a card and they walk back to her desk. Julie smiles to herself as she reads it and then puts it down by her computer. She’s got loads of cards. She’s fifty today!
Keith walks around the back of her desk, looks up and down the reception then bends down and gives Julie a kiss.
‘See, told you.’
Beth laughs. She loves my screens. She’s been watching them all the time with me. The maintenance guy came on Wednesday morning to disconnect them but all he did was look at the decoder
and scratch his head. He told us he wasn’t good with technology and then went away. Greg said someone from IT was going to come on Thursday instead. We waited for them all day Thursday and
Friday, too. I think they must be busy. I hope they’ve forgotten.
Beth nudges me again. I switch to screen 6.
The roadworks have nearly reached the end of the road. Dave is talking to a man in a suit wearing a white hat. I tell Beth his name is Dom.
‘How do you know?’ she asks.
‘Because he’s short and bald and looks like the man who solves building problems on TV.’
Her eyes are shining so bright that I can see the screens reflecting in her pupils. I love watching my screens with her. I just wish she could stay and watch them with me all the time.
Dave and Dom are walking along the trench drinking cups of coffee. Dom points at a pipe –
move that along this way
. He holds his hands up and pulls them apart –
just to
make more space
. Dave rubs his forehead and glances down the road at Mike. Mike looks down at his shovel. He’s done it wrong again.
I change to screen 8. On the roof the man in the grey boiler suit walks between the silver tubes with his knife in his hand.
Beth covers her eyes. She doesn’t want to see the pigeons again.
‘Okay, you can turn it off now,’ she says.
‘No, it’s okay. Look.’
Beth peeps between her fingers.
The man walks towards the traps and bends down. He shakes his head. The traps are empty. He won’t be cutting any pigeons’ throats today.
‘Good!’ says Beth. ‘I hate him.’
I laugh and go to switch to screen 4 but I hear the corridor door open into the transition zone. Me and Beth look at each other. We know the doctors are trying to help but it’s scary
waiting to hear what they have got to say. I feel Beth’s arm wrap tighter around me. We sit quiet and listen to Dr Moore talking on the other side of the door. He says something about being
stuck in a traffic jam; a man behind him was blowing his horn, then he says something I can’t hear and Dr Hussein laughs.
Me and Beth look at each other.
The doctors don’t usually talk this loud.
I hear the taps turn on and the spray of disinfectant.
The door clicks opens so I turn off the screens.
‘Ah,’ Dr Moore grins. ‘It’s good to see you two are still friends.’
‘Just about,’ says Beth.
I nudge her with my arm. Having her here has been like a holiday. She gets up off my bed and sits down in the chair.
Dr Hussein walks over and checks the monitors.
Room temp.
: 18C
Body temp.
: 38.1C
Heart rate
: 79
Humidity
: 11%
Air purity
: 97.0%
‘All okay?’
‘Yes.’
‘No sudden room temperature drop?’
‘No,’ says Dr Hussein. ‘All fine.’
Dr Moore looks over the top of his glasses at me.
‘So, our superhero wasn’t out rescuing anybody last night.’
I think I’ve just been told off. Again!
A grin creeps across Dr Moore’s face as he sits down on the edge of my bed. ‘So, young man. What are we going to do with you?’
I shrug and push out my bottom lip.
‘Well, tell me how you’re feeling, first.’
‘I’m still aching,’ I say, ‘but the shooting pains have stopped and I don’t feel sick any more.’
‘That’s good . . . and maybe we can tell you something that will make you feel a bit better.’
‘Are you going to let me keep the CCTV?’
Dr Hussein chuckles.
‘No,’ says Dr Moore. ‘They still have to go.’
‘Can I keep the one in reception?’
‘We’ll see. I’ll check with security.’
‘Can you ask about the one on the roof, too?’
‘You don’t give up, do you?’
I give him my best grin. Beth laughs. I wish she’d tell him that she likes them, too.
‘Okay, come on then. Listen.’ He taps my leg like he’s trying to wake me up. ‘Some good news, some bad. What do you want first?’
‘Let’s go for the good,’ Beth says. I would have picked that too.
‘Okay, well, the good news is that it looks like we’ve found this bug. It was in the air-conditioning in the car.’
‘Staphylococcal?’
Dr Moore scratches his head. ‘You know, I’m beginning to think you’re after my job.’
‘Mine too,’ says Dr Hussein.
We all smile.
‘Anyway, look, the bad news is that it’s going to take a while to get things right. You know how it goes, just like you’ve been feeling these past few days . . . up and down
while we balance the meds out.’
I know how it goes – feeling sick, feeling heavy, feeling like my head’s going to lift off my body, feeling tired, feeling dizzy, feeling sick again, feeling okay, feeling good and
then always back to bad. It only takes me a few seconds to think it but it can take days to happen. I put my head back on the pillow. I know it’s going to be hard but the doctors always help
me make it in the end.
Dr Moore looks at Beth. She’s smiling but from the dark look in her eyes I can tell she’s worried.
Dr Moore rubs my head.
‘Hey, come on, we’ll have you right as rain before long.’
‘Soon be as fit as that chap.’ Dr Hussein nods at my poster of Theo Walcott. ‘Oh, no, I forget, he’s injured again!’
Dr Moore laughs.
‘Are you watching the game tonight?’ says Dr Hussein.
I try to think what day it is.
‘Match of the Day?’
It’s Saturday.
‘It’ll be on late. Maybe you’d best record it,’ says Dr Moore. He stands up. ‘I’ll pop back later this afternoon. Will you still be here, Beth?’
Beth looks at me. We both know that she’ll be gone by then. That’s the trouble when the doctors think I’ll get better. It means Beth can go. She’s been here four days,
she can’t use up all her holiday days for that. She has to save them, just in case I need her again.
She stands up and follows the doctors towards the door. I know she’ll want to ask them more questions about me.
Dr Moore turns round. ‘Hey, don’t look so down. It’s good news for once.’
‘Yeah, I know,’ I say. ‘Sorry.’
They turn away. As soon as they’re gone I reach for my laptop – the doctors are right, I’ve got good news. I click on Skype. I must tell Hen—
I stop. My hand falls down onto my bed and I squeeze my duvet tight.
I’ve been sending him messages for years and he always replies in seconds. I used to tell him my bad news and he’d make me feel better. I’d tell him my good news and he’d
make it even more great. I close the laptop down and take some deep breaths to stop the exploding-lung feeling, to stop my heart from aching. Beth said it would get better. It’s only been
five days but I’m not sure it ever will.
I turn on the TV. A ferry has sunk near South Korea. It’s lying on its side with lifeboats bobbing around it in the water. The news reporter says 126 people have survived but over 200 more
are missing. There’s a picture of Korean people and children crying in the streets. Then there’s a picture of a rollercoaster. A man and his little boy have been trapped upside down in
it for two hours. The fire brigade have been trying to rescue them but the ride is so high that their ladders won’t reach.
When Beth comes back in, a new nurse follows behind.
‘Hi, I’m Chloe,’ she says. ‘I’ll be looking after you for a while.’ She puts a silver tray down on the table. Beth pours me a glass of water. Chloe hands me
two orange pills and a big white one. I swallow the orange ones easy but I cough when the white one gets stuck in my throat.
Chloe bends down.
‘Okay?’ she asks.
I nod. I swallow again and feel the tears in my eyes. I lie down again. Chloe picks up the tray and walks out of the door.
Beth smiles. ‘She seems nice,’ she says.
‘Yeah.’ Chloe does seem nice, but I don’t think she’s going to make me laugh as much as Amir. I wish Beth would talk about him. I wish somebody would say his name.
It’s like he’s suddenly a criminal. It’s like they all pretend he was never here. I feel Beth’s hand on my arm.
‘Hey, what’s wrong? Is it Henry?’
I shake my head. ‘No, I was thinking about Amir.’
Her eyes turn dark like I’ve just said a swear word.
‘I liked him,’ I say.
‘I know, but people can’t go round doing anything they want.’
‘But he was funny. He went home and showed me his family. He made me forget I was in here.’ My throat closes up again. I want to tell her I’ve heard from him, that he still
thinks the aliens are going to land, but I don’t want to upset her before she goes.
She suddenly stands up and picks up my laptop.
‘What are you doing?’ I ask.
‘Come on,’ she says. ‘Let’s not sit here all grumpy. Show me all the messages you got on the forum so far. How many have you had?
‘A few.’
She nudges me. ‘Come on then, let’s have a look.’
I flip up the lid and show her them. She says ‘awww’ and rubs my head when she reads the one about me not being cute any more and laughs at the one about the man who thought he saw
me in KFC. She laughs even louder at the reply. I don’t tell her it was Amir who wrote the reply and not me.