kamikazai

The angry butterfly flutters his wings in frustration,

Irate at life’s injustice, he is an aberration.

Quite shocking is the rage of this former caterpillar,

Especially as his coloring is spectacular.

He used to be a cheerful grub, worthy of much respect.

But furious angst consumed this despicable insect.

Thankfully he has no voice or he’d decadently curse,

His claims of misfortune to the entire universe.

Ever since escaping the confinements of his cocoon,

He has stomped his little feet on every flower in bloom.

Though of enviable beauty, this does not change a thing,

For he resents not having emerged with a mighty sting.

“We have a situation.”  Those had been his exact words, but as Kessai Noonvale stepped out of the lift onto the third floor of Willow-Oak General Hospital, she wondered exactly what this particular incident would involve. She recalled the last ‘situation’, over seven years ago, when an unusual respiratory virus had brought temporary panic to the idyllic neighborhood of Willow-Oak Settlement. After several elderly men died from contracting the airborne strain, the government had intervened by quarantining the hospital. The epidemic had been major news at the time and the local gossips spent many hours collaborating over the most recent victim of the flu-like outbreak. Eventually it appeared as though the rare illness had been contained and calm returned to the suburb. In due course the story was all but forgotten and life continued as usual… dull, yet safe. Kessai, however, did not forget. As the hospital’s Supervising Chief of Immunology and Infection Control, it had been her duty to complete mountains of paperwork and mail countless reports to various federal departments even after the last traces of the virus had long since vanished.

Sighing, she walked briskly to Hubert McGraw’s office where he was expectantly waiting her arrival. She knocked once and opened the door to reveal a shabbily decorated, smallish office with drab grey furniture and faded yellow wallpaper; everything was slightly dusted under an ashen layer. The flickering light of a bare bulb dangling from the ceiling reflected greasily from her coworker’s shiny baldness. Sparse feathery covering around the sides of his head accentuated the dense black bristles that protruded from the fleshy caverns of his ears. A potato-shaped nose sat balanced on his wrinkled face, resting gently between the squishy jowls of his bulldog-like cheeks. His thin upper lip was barely visible through a moustache which seemed to be made of the same hair as that which emerged from his ears. Kessa had a slight distaste for her colleague, not because of his personality, which was generally not too bad, but because it was simply so unappealing to look at him. It also made her rather uncomfortable. McGraw came right to the point the moment she entered his office.

            “Thanks for getting here so promptly Kessai. Something very strange is going on,” he muttered, “Sarah Thaddeus, a nurse from the maternity ward, died for no apparent reason while on morning shift. She was discovered in a private room with a female patient who had arrived late last night in the concluding stages of labor. The woman, who has not yet been identified, gave birth to a healthy baby girl and was put into a temporary room to rest. Apparently this woman died just over an hour ago, but the cause is still unknown. However it soon became apparent that your expertise was required: Nurse Thaddeus went to check on the baby and died within minutes of entering the room.” 

            “Jesus, has the room been isolated?” Kessai gasped.

            “Yes, but the newborn is still in there. Someone will have to go in and feed it before long,” he nonchalantly replied. “As far as I can tell, whatever killed those women hasn’t affected the baby… of course there is a chance the deaths are unrelated, but we can’t take that risk.”

            “I see. Coincidently, of all the people qualified to use the contamination suit, I’m the only one on duty right now which means that person will have to be me… right?” Kessai sighed.

            “Correct. I’m sorry to have to impose this on you, but at the moment we haven’t anything else to go on. Furthermore, the infant has been crying virtually non-stop for the last forty-five minutes and patients have started to complain. From what the maternity warden has told me, none of the other nurses want to enter the room.”

            “Christ… I can understand the need for quarantine if people are scared, but this is too much!” Kessai said irritably. “Well alright, I’ll go sort out this mess.”

            After retrieving the special contamination suit from her office, Kessai made her way to the maternity department. The squeak of her rubber training shoes against the linoleum floor echoed down the hallway which reeked with the usual hospital stench, that unforgettable smell of medical supplies partly mixed with the odor of cleaning detergent. As she neared the room, the cries of a baby became clearly audible. No wonder McGraw said the baby was healthy…what powerful lungs! Across the doorway to the room, someone had stuck yellow tape with the words CAUTION: DO NOT CROSS in ominous black letters. A gently humming pump had been placed next to the door and was currently filtering the air in the sealed room to ensure none leaked back out into the hallway. More procedure than necessity, Kessai thought to herself, but you never can be too careful these days.

Tugging her auburn hair out the way, she pulled the hood of the gleaming white suit over her head. A clear square in the front allowed her to see out and, grinning, she imagined herself as an astronaut. Smiling to herself, she stripped the tape from the entrance and hastily stepped into the room; behind her, the door sealed shut. Insistent wails filled the room – the frustrated infant was flailing in the crib where she had been abandoned. Ignoring the dead mother in the bed next to her, Kessai looked down at the screaming baby. The girl’s face was scrunched in anger with her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth wide open, revealing soft, toothless gums. Kessai gently picked up the baby and rocked her tenderly. Poor little thing, she thought, so tiny and alone yet very pretty… almost like a doll. After a few moments she offered the newborn a warm bottle of baby formula and its features instantly relaxed as its tiny lips latched onto the teat. While gazing at the orphan Kessai started to hum and she stroked the girl’s wispy blond hair. Then the baby opened her eyes for the first time – that was all it took.

In a moment the world froze and time ceased to exist. Kessai gazed deeply into the bottomless depths and she gasped for breath. No human had ever had eyes that color – indeed no such color can be imagined – it was beyond comprehension… light yet dark, even shining metallic for an instant, an instant that melted reality. The eyes had a light all of their own; clear and bright with fresh tears, they were glassy pools that held a universe. Whole galaxies whirled around in the ever-expanding vacuum, seeming to float in a darkness that burst with color. The mirrored pupils were twin black holes that swallowed an infinite depth and echoed a demonic roar. In a split second that lasted for eternity, all the knowledge of the universe became lucid: enlightenment beyond any conceptual scale, a true nirvana. Divine power pulsed and ebbed like a thunderous tidal wave fueled by a raw storm of rage and passion. Only pure energy remained: a perpetual vibration of chaos and order – destruction and creation. Lost in the newborn’s eyes, Kessai’s life slowly snuffed from her body as the portal to her soul became unlocked. She collapsed lifeless to the floor next to the previous victim.

The baby started to cry anew.

This book, which features some of my work, is currently being sold at the ABC

(American Book Center) in The Hague, Netherlands.

Please buy "Sparklers" (edited by Dr. Mavis Donner) as all profits are going towards... 

The War Child Foundation!

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