Accelerate - Part 4
20/07/2005

To read the first part of this series, click here.

The next few days dragged for Lucky as never before. Many times he was tempted to proceed with later stages of the plan but he succeeded in curbing his impatience. More speed was needed yet and so he must wait for his next visit to the clinic. Each day seemed an age and Lucky spent much of them in sleeping, his internal clock so confused by the slow passage of time that he dozed off haphazardly, often waking in the small hours of the night in consequence.

It was just as well, perhaps, that he overslept on the day of the clinic, this sparing him an agonizing wait before his appointment time. He dressed quickly and left his digs in haste, striding past the dawdling pedestrians and noticing for the first time how cars in the street seemed to trickle along like treacle poured from a can. At the clinic, he paused briefly to rein in his excitement and to prepare for the camouflage of slow motion. Then, moving as though in a dream, he pushed the door and entered.

His journey had been so rushed that he was on time and had only moments to wait before being ushered through to see the doctor. Once again it was Dr Megana who sat behind the desk, head down and pen lazily scratching at a yellow form as she finished entering the results of the previous examination. Without waiting to be asked, Lucky headed for the bench, moving like a child pretending slow motion. He lay down carefully, inch by inch, and waited.

Minutes seemed to pass before Dr Megana stopped writing and turned her attention to Lucky. He watched as she rose and drifted across the room towards him. He submitted as the long drawn out process of inspection began and nodded or shook his head to the inevitable questions, forcing himself to allow a suitable pause after each one was delivered in deep and extended tones. It seemed that the examination might go on forever and Lucky had a moment of near panic when she checked his pulse. Would she notice that his heart now beat at an abnormal pace? But she said nothing and Lucky realized that his physical functions must not be affected.

At last the physical examination was over and Lucky was able to sit up as Dr Megana turned to the cabinet beside the bench. He watched her every movement as she slowly opened the top drawer, reached in and withdrew the bottle containing the pink tablets. So slow were her movements that Lucky was able to estimate the number of tablets as the bottle was opened and placed on top of the cabinet. Twenty-five, maybe thirty. His eyes did not leave the bottle as the doctor then filled a small plastic cup with water from the basin in the corner. Time dragged even slower as she returned to the bench and set the cup down beside the bottle.

Lucky's control was under siege from his excitement and impatience as he waited for his weekly dose to be shaken from the bottle, the urge to tear it from her and do it himself nearly overpowering. But he forced his body to remain in slow motion, lazily reaching for the cup and the tablet that was placed beside it with such deliberate and careful precision. In slow motion he placed the tablet in his mouth and followed it with a long draft from the cup, the water pouring unhurriedly into his mouth to be swallowed when he could bear the wait no longer.

Dr Megana was saying something as he finished but Lucky could decipher no meaning, so intently was he watching for the moment he had awaited so long. He dropped the emptied cup into the bin and watched as she put the top back on the bottle. His eyes remained on the bottle as she replaced it in the drawer. He noted its exact position before the drawer was closed, saw for the first time the small yellow mark on the lid that must indicate it contained the real thing, watched as the drawer slid shut with infinite slowness. Now he must wait for the exact moment, that instant when Dr Megana turned to move to the desk.

But she did not. To Lucky's exasperation, Dr Megana continued to drone on and on, mouthing some dreary and soulful nonsense while his impatience mounted to the point of torture. Suddenly he could stand no more and, as quickly as he could, he reached forward, opened the drawer, grabbed the bottle and put it in his shirt pocket, closing the drawer as he did so. Then he looked up to see the doctor's reaction, ready to run and confident in his ability to outpace any hue and cry.

Incredibly, Dr Megana acted as though nothing had happened. Her mouth still opened and closed as before, her lugubrious lecture continuing unabated, the words spilling in a lazy torrent upon the thick and lifeless air. Once again, Lucky was surprised at the full import of his speed, yet confirmed in the belief that his plan could work.

Dr Megana rumbled to a stop at last and turned slowly towards the desk. Lucky stood up, relief flowing through him that this interminable session was over. For the last time, he resumed his slow motion mimicry and paced step by step towards the door. As he inched it open, he turned slowly and gave the doctor a languid wave. To Lucky's surprise, she had not yet reached the desk and he realized that, even when forcing himself to move slowly, he was still too fast for the normal world. Pretense was no longer available to him.

He shrugged, abandoned slow motion, and left the clinic without stopping to pick up his payment.

--ooOoo--

To go directly to the fifth part of this series, click here.

Clive

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