When this little kid, Kelvin sees Kade and Kelly his eyes grow wide with terror and he grabs my hand, tugging at it like a frightened puppy, “Come away from them, they have the dirty disease and you don’t have your helmet on,” he says, struggling not to cry.
I stare at the concern in his little face and I’m again teased by a strong recognition; yet in all my time in captivity I was never introduced to any children.
......
Kade is instinctively gentle and empathetic with him, “Hey, it’s OK kid, no need to worry – we haven’t really got the dirty disease,” he says, with a friendly wink.
The kids eyes widen even further, “Really, then I need to go tell The surgeon that you don’t have it,” he says, rushing toward the exit.
I grab him and drop to his level, “Of course they have the disease, The Surgeon never makes mistakes,” I say, putting my helmet back on and throwing Kade a knowing glance that says, ‘let me handle this.’
“Did they lie to me?” He asks, with a hurtful look.
“Yes, they told a little lie, to make you feel better, that’s all,” I say, in an effort to reassure him.
The kid shakes his head, “It’s very, very bad to tell lies. We must tell The Surgeon that they’ve told lies so she can make sure they suffer on the naughty chair,” he says.
I look over at Kade and Kelly, “You two go back to your isolation room so you can treat the dirty disease and take care of my fiancé.” I turn my attention back to the kid, “There’s no need for you to tell The Surgeon about their silly joke; you and I can stay here and have fun getting to know each other, would you like that?” I ask, with what I think is my best kid friendly voice.
He smiles, “Sure, I like having fun.”
I stand up and dismiss Kade and Kelly with a headshake. They understand my thinking (I have to keep this kid on our side.) They depart, knowing that I’ll inform them of everything I find out from this strange little boy.
......
As soon as Kade and Kelly have gone the kid relaxes, “I don’t like being near people with the dirty disease, it’s very bad and can make you die if you don’t have a suit on,” he says, looking around the chill-out area with a childish excitement.
He notices the monitors, “OH MY!” He squeals, “The Love Rush, look at it, it’s very terrifying – I’m not allowed to ride it,” he says.
“Why not?” I ask, suddenly realizing that this kid could be a useful source of information.
“Because it does bad things – sometimes.”
“What kind of bad things?”
He walks toward me, takes my hand, looks at me with big earnest eyes and says, “Some people go on it as one person and come off it sliced clean in two,” he says, in a low whisper.
“Why would people want to ride a roller coaster that might slice them in two? That’s not fun,” I say.
He makes a sudden attempt to sound older, “Because The surgeon and her team like watching fear on peoples faces, they find that fun – and they want to have lots of fun at The Wedding,” he says.
“Oh, OK – do you like The Surgeon?” I ask.
He becomes shy and lowers his head, “I have to like her, we all have to like her.”
I crouch down to his level, “Hey, you can tell me the truth you know, I won’t tell anybody, trust me.”
His head shoots up to my eye level, “THAT IS THE TRUTH!” He hollers.
