by PJ Vye
“She stole from me.”
Sunny kept her eyes on the road and checked her mirrors but said nothing.
Eventually he continued. “You’re not going to ask what?”
Sunny shrugged. “I figure I’m going to find out sooner or later whether you tell me or not.”
“She stole some of Junior’s medication. I need it back.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Have you guessed? What the medication does?”
“Is it a cure for cancer, heart disease or diabetes?”
“Wow. You must think I’m really clever.”
“Not really.” Sunny allowed a half smile to cross her lips. She did think he was clever, but not in the way he thought.
“It’s none of those things—not directly anyway. Type II Diabetes maybe.”
“What’s wrong with Junior?”
“Four weeks ago, he weighed 270 kilograms.”
Sunny stared at Mat until the car behind tooted the lights had gone green. She accelerated slowly and checked the GPS before turning right at the next street. “Wow. That’s a lot. No wonder he didn’t want visitors.” She didn’t know what else to say. And she thought she had problems when she went from a size 8 to a size 12.
“This morning he weighed 222 kilograms.”
“What did you do? Stop feeding him?” Even as she said it, she knew he hadn’t. She’d witnessed the trays of food herself taken to the mystery patient at the back of the house.
“I found a compound that signals the brain to burn stored fat cells to perspiration and carbon dioxide.”
“That’s unbelievable. And it works?”
“It’s working, yes. But I don’t know how long for, or what the side effects might be. It’s too early to tell.”
“If this works, you realise what that might mean?”
“It could mean a lot of things. But my only focus is getting Junior well.”
“That’s why she stole it,” said Sunny, understanding it for herself. “I thought she might have taken it to get you in trouble or blackmail you or something. But she took it for herself. She wants to lose weight.”
“I don’t know why she took it, and I didn’t tell her what it was for, but she’s obviously worked it out and now this could ruin everything. I have to get it back.”
“Good luck standing between a person and an easy weight loss solution. I don’t like your chances.”
“All you have to do is be in the room as a witness and record the conversation. I can make more serum—it’s just it hasn’t been tested on humans before and if she’s using it, or giving it to someone, well I can’t really say what could happen. The dosage is for Junior who is four times as large as Bernadette. She hasn’t come into work yesterday or today and I’m just worried something might have happened to her.”
“If she’s fine and she’s lost a couple of kilograms since yesterday, do you think you could make some Sunny size dosages? Losing a couple of dress sizes would put me back in the running for a few television jobs.”
“What? Why? That’s discrimination,” said Mataio.
“It’s not fair, but it’s true. Some entertainment jobs require you to look a certain way. It’s just the way it is. Do you understand how life-changing this could be for me? For you?”
“Sunny,” he said turning serious. “You will never go near this serum. Promise me.”
“Not while you’re watching anyway,” she laughed.
Mat pointed to the house and she parked the car on the curb.
“I mean it,” he said, turning towards her. “It’s dangerous and you have no reason to expose yourself to any kind of experimental treatment. You’re the perfect weight. I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”
Sunny took a sharp intake of breath at his words and he opened his door and climbed out before she’d even turned off the ignition. She could tell he was embarrassed as he bolted to the front door of the house. Heat spread to the bottom of her stomach at the compliment.
Mat knocked on the door as she joined him, and they listened for footsteps. None came.
“How do you know her address?” she asked, recognising Bernadette’s compact navy-blue car in the driveway.
“She signed a contract and a non-disclosure agreement when she started working for us. I half expected the address to be fake, but I guess when she started, she had no reason to suspect she’d be stealing from me and I’d be chasing her here.”
“No-one could have predicted that,” said Sunny, her thoughts drifting to Judd’s money sitting in the laundry basket in La’ei’s room. Her money. He’d cheated her.
Mat knocked again. A dog barked somewhere in the street. A crease formed along the top of his face as he stared into the window.
“Are you worried about her?”
“Maybe.”
“You think she’s had a bad reaction to the drug?”
“It would be unusual. But it just depends what else she may be taking. Whether it’s reacted with another drug.”
Mat knocked louder this time and called out, “Bernadette? Are you home?”
“Maybe she went for a walk.”
“Or maybe she’s already dead.”
Sunny swallowed hard. “Shit, Mat. That’s not good.”
He pursed his lips tightly and stared at the door. She could count his breath from here. In out, in out. She resisted the urge to put a hand on his back to reassure. She wanted to though.
Instead she reached past him and tried the door handle, but it wouldn’t turn. “What do you want to do? We could wait in the car; in case she comes back.”
Mat looked over at the car and then knocked again. He circled the front of the verandah, looking in each window, his face and hand resting on the glass, peering in.
Suddenly he stood upright and yelled into the window, “Bernadette? Bernadette? Is that you?”
He leaped over the locked side gate in two easy moves and disappeared around the back. She peered in the window he’d been just seconds before and saw two legs disappearing down the side of the bed.
Twenty-Five
MATAIO
23 days to go
Mataio tried the back door and it turned.
“Bernadette,” he called as he searched for her in the bedroom where he’d seen her through the front window. He lapped the hallway twice, then moved through the kitchen and lounge area and back to the hallway.
Sunny yelled through from the front. “Let me in. I saw her move. I think she’s hiding.”
Relief flooded him. If she could move, she wasn’t dead. “Bernadette. We know you’re here,” he called. “I need to talk to you.”
He stood still to listen and heard nothing. Sunny tapped at the front door and he let her in, then poked his head in each room as he passed. A part of him felt guilty for the trespass but it was overridden by Bernadette’s dishonesty.
Sunny locked the front door and he heard her walk to the back door and do the same. Jeez, Sunny was ninja. He was glad she was here. He hadn’t wanted to tell her about Junior and the treatment, but he needed someone to back up his story if things turned bad.
“Bernadette, it’s Sunny,” she called. “Please don’t be scared. We just need to talk to you. Sorry we’ve barged in here, but it’s really important.”
Mataio stood opposite Sunny and they listened intently. Bernadette appeared quietly through one of the bedroom doorways. She looked well.
Mataio took a step forward and Bernadette put up her hand to stop him. “Stay where you are.”
Mataio noted she wore an oversized tracksuit that hung loosely on her frame. She looked tired around the eyes, but her skin tone was even and well coloured.
“I need the serum back, Bernadette.”
“I don’t have it.”
“So where is it?”
She hesitated and he took another step forward. She stepped back.
Sunny’s voice was smooth and easy. “Bernadette, I understand why you took it. If I hadn’t only hear
d about it five minutes ago in the car, I would have taken it as well. Who wouldn’t want to take a magic serum that zapped away your fat? It’s too hard to resist. I totally get that. It’s just that Junior needs it or he’ll die.”
Mataio added, “And you’re risking your own life—none of it’s been TGA approved or tested on humans before. You have to stop now.”
“What makes you think I have it? Maybe it was her?” Bernadette pointed to Sunny and she smiled back, knowingly.
“You’d have a more believable case,” said Sunny, “If you hadn’t just lost several kilos in the last few days, and I’d put on one and a half.” Sunny lifted her jacket to reveal a small bump on her belly. “Tulula’s cooking’s a treat.”
“I want you to leave,” said Bernadette, and pointed towards the door.
“If you didn’t take it, why haven’t you been back to work? The agency said you were sick.”
“I’m sick. Stomach bug. I’ve barely left the bathroom.”
“That could be a side effect.”
Bernadette turned away and stared at the wall awhile. Mataio and Sunny waited. Eventually she said, “Okay, I took it.”
Mataio wanted to shake her. “What dosage? And for how long?”
“A third of the dose you prescribed for Junior. Today is the eighth day.”
Sunny asked, “And it’s working?”
“Yes, I—”
Mataio interjected, “Any other side effects?”
“Other than the constant sweating? No.”
“Do you mind if I check you over, just to monitor a few things?”
“I’m a nurse. I know what I’m doing.”
“You’re not a nurse. And I’m gonna need the rest of the serum you stole.”
“You can’t have it.”
“Why?”
Bernadette shook her head. “Because I need it. No way I’m giving this up.”
“I’ll tell the agency you stole from me.” She was lucky he hadn’t already. He’d paid a lot of money to the agency to set him up with a professional carer who’d be discreet and trustworthy. Looks like he’d been sent neither.
“I’ll tell the TGA you’re experimenting on your cousin,” Bernadette spirited back.
Mataio opened his mouth to answer, then closed it. He had to be careful.
Sunny came and stood beside him. “Bernadette, we need to work this out. What if you give us back what you took, and Mataio can get you in the first human trial when it becomes legal?”
Bernadette shook her head. “I’m a fifty-year-old woman. I only need to look at food to put on weight. I’m getting married in three months and I’d like to wear a dress size I haven’t been able to fit since my twenties. So, no.”
Mataio rubbed his temple, unable to ease the tightness in his neck. “I don’t have enough compound to make it for you and Junior. I need it back, Bernadette. Now, where is it?”
He moved past both women and tried to remember where he’d seen her bathroom. Bernadette followed him, and yelled, “You need to get out of my house now, or I’ll call the police.”
He found the bathroom and opened the cupboard below the basin, swept out everything onto the floor and began opening containers. “Just give me the serum, Bernadette.”
“This is harassment. You can’t do this. I’m calling the police right now.”
It suddenly went quiet and Mataio, having exhausted all the potential hiding spots in the bathroom, stood to leave. Sunny stood in his way.
“What are you doing?” she asked him. “Whatever this is,” she indicated the mess, “isn’t helping.”
“I need her to stop, Sunny. This can’t go on.”
“Let me talk to her.”
His instinct to keep searching was strong, but he nodded and followed Sunny back into the corridor where Bernadette now had her phone to her ear.
“Bernadette, just wait a minute,” said Sunny in her gentle, casual way. “I think we can all get what we want here.”
Mataio took a slow, easy breath to try and overcome the adrenaline that pumped through him.
Bernadette stopped dialling and crossed her arms, the phone tucked up against her chest. “Make it quick.”
“You both want the serum. But neither of you will have access to it if Bernadette goes to the police or the TGA, right?”
Mataio didn’t like where this was going but he stayed silent and gave a curt nod.
Bernadette did the same.
“Bernadette, if you agree to make a statement you took the drug of your own free will, that you understood the risks involved—then you can keep what you stole. Provided you don’t tell anyone, and you check in with us every day, so we know you’re okay.”
Bernadette stood very still, thinking it over.
Sunny turned to Mataio. “What do you say?”
“I’m thinking too,” he said, noncomittedly. It wasn’t ideal, but Sunny was right. If he found it and took it, Bernadette would have him arrested, the laboratory would be quarantined and that would be the end of Junior’s recovery. The only way to get Bernadette’s silence was to give her what she wanted. Sunny’s compromise seemed like the only option.
“It’s a deal for now,” said Bernadette.
Mataio also nodded his agreement.
Sunny pressed record on her camera app. “Tell us your name and address in full and then what you plan to do.”
Bernadette stared at the camera and said, “My name is Bernadette Francis Jones of 23 Harrison Street, Box Hill and I am taking the drug made by Dr Mataio Brinn of my own free will. I understand the risks involved.”
Sunny named the file and then opened a new contact. “Give me your number and I’ll send you mine, so you can check in each day.”
Bernadette put her number in Sunny’s phone and handed it back. “I have enough for now,” she said, “but eventually I’ll want more serum, or I will go to the police.”
“We’ll be in touch,” reassured Sunny.
Back in the car, Mataio confessed, “That went better than I thought.”
“You can make more serum then? You were lying about not having enough…what did you call it…compound?”
“Yes, but I’ll have to go back to the lab.”
“And Judd will be there.”
“Probably.”
“Just tell him you don’t know anything. Better yet, don’t talk to him at all.”
“I’ll try.”
“I need a favour.”
“Sure.” Although he knew where this was going.
“You got enough of that compound to make a batch of serum for me?”
Rule No. 6
No Fun
Twenty-Six
MATAIO
22 days to go
Mataio did observations and changed the colostomy bag while Junior snored loudly. He sweated out toxins faster than Bernadette had been able to keep up with the bathing, and having been left two days without it, they were all suffering.
Mataio needed to organise another attendant from the agency today, but the thought of allowing someone else into their secret made the decision difficult.
Sunny had offered to help out but she’d only be here another week before her new passport would arrive and then she’d be gone too. Him and his aunt could manage most things, but Junior refused to be washed down by anyone but a stranger. He’d probably let Sunny do it, but the thought of her touching Junior in any capacity, even to be bathed, made Mataio insanely jealous.
Maybe Junior would have to toughen up and let him do the job. It took the good part of an hour and he didn’t really have time if he was going to get back to the lab today.
He’d think about it a bit longer. Maybe Bernadette would come back?
Maybe he should just agree to let her stay on the trial indefinitely—and if she stayed working, he could observe her results. He’d need to make a lot of serum—at least a 48 hour stop at the laboratory. The idea of running into Judd didn’t help much either.
The simplest solution
was to put aside his stupid irrationalities and let Sunny bathe him while he went to the lab and made another batch. After that, he could just do it himself.
With Junior’s current rate of weight loss, he’d be out of bed in the next few weeks. Another three months on the program would get him down to a manageable weight. With proper eating and exercise, he’d be fine to manage on his own.
The Rules ended in three.
What would he do then? Go back to St Van Croft Hospital and continue on like before? That had been the plan. Why did the plan feel different now? What had changed? Was it the breakthrough serum? Something told him it wasn’t, but he didn’t want to think about what else it could be.
Junior stirred and Mataio asked, “How you feeling mate?”
His eyes flicked open a second, focused a little on Mataio’s face, then closed. “Piss off, I’m sleeping.”
Reassured, Mataio rearranged the bed covers, lit a scented candle and left the room. How could he introduce Sunny to this man? What would she think? How would she react to the way Mataio had neglected his cousin and aunt for so long that it had come to this?
Sunny’s voice in the hallway startled him. “You ready?”
“No, he’s sleeping,” Mataio replied, too quickly.
“I mean, you ready for me to drop you near the lab?”
“Oh yeah. I’ll grab my bag.”
Mataio climbed into Judd’s ute beside her and she drove out onto the street before saying, “So I’ll leave you a couple of blocks away from our place. Is that okay?”
“Yeah sure,” he said.
“How long do you think you’ll be? Should I wait?”
“Don’t wait. It’ll take at least 48 hours. I’ll catch a bus back.”
“That long? Did you bring any food? Drinks? Did you even have lunch today?”
“I’ll be fine. I won’t eat anyway.”
“You’ll make enough for Junior, Bernadette and me, right?”
“I’ll make enough for Junior.”
“We had a deal.”
“No, we didn’t.”
