Chalice

Bill had only read about six pages in his favorite book, the classic novel Velocity by Dean Koontz, when his name was called for his check-up.

"Hi Julie," he said pleasantly to the nurse. She had known him since he was sixteen and had been the one to call his name and take his stats whenever he had an appointment since she started at the doctor's office. He had an attachment to her.

It wasn't like he was just going to go around showing his weight to just anybody.

"How have you been this past month, Bill?"

Bill kicked off his shoes and stepped on the scale. "Oh, you know, same old, same old. Teaching high school kids, breathing in salty air, and obsessing over everything touristy about my town."

Julie smiled. "You seemed to have gained a few pounds since your last visit."

"My husband has been stuffing me with Chinese and Italian food. What can I do?"

"The few extra pounds are okay. Just make sure you exercise as well, okay? You don't need love handles." Julie's face was covered in a smile.

Bill scoffed. "Love handles? Me? Please."

Julie laughed. "All right, grab your shoes, into the room we go."

Not bothering to put them back on, Bill followed the petite nurse into the room with the crinkly wax paper sheets that he loved to play with. He hopped up on the bench, wiggling a little and smiling at the crackly noise. He was so glad that this was something that had never changed over the years.

"I feel like such a child. It's like I'm sitting on butterscotch candy wrappers."

"No one can ever accuse you of acting your own age. Open up."

Bill stuck his tongue out and allowed the small sensor attached to a reading machine the size of a credit card to be placed on his tongue.

The miniscule machine beeped after a few moments, and Julie looked at it. "98.6. Perfect."

"Like everything else on me!" Bill said happily after she took the disk off his tongue, smiling.

"You sound like such diva."

"Well, it takes talent to display this much awesome, Julie."

She rolled her eyes and laughed as he pulled his sleeve up. She attached an automated blood pressure cuff to his arm, Bill keeping completely still. He hated the blood pressure check, the stupid thing always felt like it was trying to slice his arm off. The less he fidgeted, the faster it would get done.

Finally, Julie made an approving noise and stripped off blood pressure cuff, then wrote down a few things on his file. "Okay, Dr. Rosenthal will be with you soon."

"Until next time, sexy lady," Bill said with a smirk. Julie smiled and exited the room, leaving Bill to sit there alone. He looked at the clock on his phone.

Five minutes, tops, and he would finally do what he wanted.

~+~

"Is there any special reason why we are inviting as many people as we can to the beach for a bonfire and Bill isn't even here?" Georg looked suspiciously at Tom while the two of them shopped for bonfire essentials. "Did you two fight?"

"Georg, how long have you known us?" Tom asked, looking at hot dogs. He was fairly picky when it came to processed meats. Georg thought it was ironic.

"You? Since freshman year. Bill? Since sophomore year. College. Why?"

"And how many times have you heard of us fighting?"

Georg thought about it. "I don't know, maybe twice?"

"So why would this be a time when we're fighting?"

"Because Bill isn't here?"

Tom rolled his eyes and smiled as he tossed a few packages of hot dogs in their shopping basket. "He had a doctor's appointment, late, and he decided instead of driving home from Shasta in the dark, he's just going to spend the night there. He suggested I hang out with my buddies. So I am."

"Is this like a guys only thing or are we allowed to bring like girlfriends and spouses?"

"Please, the more the merrier. You'll help me pay for this shit, though. I'm not feeding everyone out of my own pocket."

"Why do I have to help pay?"

"Because you offered to come shopping with me."

"Screw that."

"You and I can go together and I'll be the designated driver."

Georg looked at Tom for a good ten seconds before sticking his hand out. "But I will allow you one beer to keep you alive."

"I don't know what I would do without you," Tom said, shaking Georg's hand, then pushing the cart towards the chip aisle. Georg shrugged.

"You'd probably be dead, my brother."

Tom nodded. "No, I wouldn't be."

Georg laughed. "Come on! We need calories and cholesterol!"

~+~

"Well, Bill, it's very nice to see you again."

Dr. Charlotte Rosenthal was a chipper woman in her late forties with a no-nonsense haircut and rimless glasses. Bill absolutely adored her, she'd been his doctor since he was four, and when she moved her practice from Clear Lake to Shasta, he followed her.

"It's nice to see you too, Dr. Rosenthal. Did you put highlights in your hair?"

She smiled as she read over Bill's medical file. "Thank you for noticing. I just figured it would be peppy for the summer season."

"How right you are. I'd highlight mine, but how do you highlight black hair?"

"I notice your hair has an odd, red tint to it when it's in the sun."

"That'll be the brownish-blonde showing underneath, I swear, I need to re-dye it soon. So, are we going to start?"

"Oh, I don't see why not. You know the drill, sleeve up."

For the second time, Bill pulled his sleeve up almost the entire way to his shoulder. Dr. Rosenthal slid a thin device that resembled the blood pressure cuff in miniature around his arm and made it tight. She swabbed the crease in his elbow with alcohol.

"So, have you been taking your medication?" she asked as she pulled a needle out of its sterile packaging.

"Twice a day, every day, except for a few weeks ago. I kind of skipped a dose. I was running late and didn't have the time so I figured I would be okay."

"Did you experience anything out of the ordinary?" She positioned the needle on his arm.

"Nothing other than the wicked bruises I got from my klutziness and my stupid husband."

"Hickey?"

Bill grimaced. "Like you wouldn't believe."

Dr. Rosenthal smiled as she drew blood from Bill's arm. "Did you get mad at him?"

"Like you wouldn't believe."

She laughed this time, pulling the needle out of his arm and pressing a cotton ball with a clotting factor on it onto the spot where she had drawn blood. "I see. Anything else since then? Did you do anything different the next time?"

"The next morning, I tried to make up for it and added a few more milligrams. Is that okay?"

"As long as you didn't inject yourself twice in a row, I don't see why not. The drug was made so fluctuation was allowed, because many people have a hard time getting it the right amount every time. A few milligrams won't hurt."

Bill smiled. "Good."

"Now, I will be right back, I need to take your blood off to the lab for a moment, and when I come back, we'll talk about another little thing on this file while we wait for the results, okay?"

Bill had a feeling he knew what she wanted to talk about. "Okay."

She smiled and walked out of the room. Bill exhaled and checked his arm. A small bruise was around the site where he had gotten stabbed but that was normal. It happened every time.

In a few moments, Dr. Rosenthal was back. "Okay, now we only need to wait for that, make sure there are no other irregularities in your blood that we need to be aware of. Now, there is something significant on your chart. You've thought about going through with the Chalice procedure?"

Bill nodded and crossed his legs. "Yes, I want to go through with it."

"And what does your husband think about this?"

"He doesn't know about it. There is no law stating that I have to get a surgery with my spouse's consent, and I want the option. I haven't thoroughly convinced him to have kids yet, but I figure that when he finally decides he's ready, then I'll be ready as well. No waiting period, I'll already be ready with the equipment. I wouldn't take the estrogen until we decided."

"Well, usually we recommend that both partners consent to this, but you seem to be very set in your resolve. You are planning on telling him you are getting it though, yes?"

"Oh, of course."

"Well, you seemed to have everything all planned out. I can't stop you."

Bill smiled, then folded his hands. "So, what does the whole surgery entail? What will I have to do in preparation, how long does recovery take, that sort of stuff."

Dr. Rosenthal leaned back in her chair and put her glasses in her pocket. "Well, normally, what happens is we take a blood or tissue sample from the patient so that when we create the organ, we can create it with the patient's DNA so that when we actually place it in the body, there is no chance of the body seeing it as a foreign object and attacking it, thus resulting in a sometimes fatal infection. The organ will take about one to three weeks to create until it's entirely ready to be put into the body and after that, it's just a simple surgery."

"How long does surgery take?"

Dr. Rosenthal shrugged. "That all depends. I'd say, in your case, with how low your body mass index is, it would be a fairly simple procedure that would only take about five hours."

"So basically, it'd be fast because I don't have layers of fat to cut through?" He found it hard to believe that simply placing something inside of him and attaching a few tubes took five hours.

"To put it so bluntly, yes. You will have to have liquid stitches, but the amount of scarring is minimal and with the right creams and lotions, will probably go away. It usually takes, on average, about two weeks to heal completely, in which time, bed rest is highly recommended."

"Codeine knocks you out, huh?"

"Yes, it does."

"I have a question." Bill licked his lips out of habit. "I know how the whole mechanics are suppose to work, how there's a... tube, I guess, connecting the anal canal with the Chalice, but how does it filter everything out? How can it tell the difference between, well, you know."

Dr. Rosenthal smiled. "Yes, I know. Whenever it's not in use, it's sealed off with a ring of muscle that we place around it, almost like a sphincter. It will have sensors, nerve endings, that react with the prostate and arousal centers in the brain, and when aroused to a certain level, the sphincter opens up and lets in what matter it wants, basically."

"Cool. And, how do the gametes form? Does it work with the sexual organs I already have or is it its own thing?"

"It's a little bit of both. It sort of... Recognizes what your sexual organs do and it copies it, creating X and Y gametes."

Bill paused, his eyebrows furrowed. "But... Tom has X and Y, too. What happens when two Y's match up?"

"They won't," Dr. Rosenthal said simply. "I don't what it is, maybe it's like trying to shove two magnets together the way they're not supposed to go. They simply don't fuse with one another."

"Well, at least I won't have little mutant babies with like eight eyes or something. Oh, on that note, will it do anything if I don't use it? Like, if I can never persuade my husband to have kids, will I have to have it removed or anything?"

"No, it will just be apart of you that you don't use, like your appendix. And nothing will happen if you don't take the estrogen."

"And about the menstrual cycle..."

"Ah, yes. Everyone asks that. Well, the first one that takes place happens about a month after the initial surgery, mainly because it's got a little more to get rid of the first time, and that's normal. And after that, every sixty days exactly, it has another cycle. So, be on the lookout, and keep track."

Bill nodded. "And, I've heard stories of men lactating. Is that true?"

"There are several cases of men lactating, yes, but it's very rare. Odds are, it won't happen to you if you plan to have children."

"Now, how would the surgery happen? Where does it go in?"

"Why don't I show you? Stand up for me, please."

Bill hopped off the bench. Dr. Rosenthal put her glasses back on. "What we would normally do is make an incision from here to here." She put her hands on Bill's stomach, indicating the spot a below his navel. "And the incision curves upwards right under the navel, and that skin would be pulled down, slightly, like a flap, so we could get better entry."

"It really has to be that big?" Bill asked, looking down. He thought surgeries could be done with just small little holes and cameras on sticks.

"Considering the size of the organ, yes. In fact, the main reason the size is the what it is is just to let in the actual organ. In fact, the connections that have to be made could probably be done by just inserting a scope and scalpel."

"You said the scarring was minimal. That doesn't seem so minimal."

Dr. Rosenthal pursed her lips. "Well, in your case, with your hemophilia, I would say the scar would be quite large and harder to get rid of than most people's, because it would be harder for your body to get the wound to scab and heal, even with the medication, but it wouldn't be something you couldn't live with. You'd probably have to up your dosage a little with your meds."

"Fun."

"Any other concerns you might have before I go get the blood results?"

"How bad will my stretch marks be?"

The doctor smiled. "Now, that is something I can't answer. Stretch marks vary from person to person. I, personally, had a massive amount when I became pregnant with my daughter. My sister didn't have one stretch mark and she's had four kids. It all depends."

"So I have absolutely no way of knowing. Great." Bill gave a fake enthusiastic smile and thumbs up.

"That's the spirit!" the doctor said in the exact same tone. Bill rolled his eyes and smiled. "Now, I will be right back with your blood test. If you have any more questions about the Chalice procedure, have them ready when I get back."

~+~

"No, no, no, put me down, put me down, put me down, put me down right now, I swear to God, you had better not, don't, put me down, no, no, put me down on dry sand, put me down on dry sand!"

Tom was wriggling and twisting like a cat about to be thrown in a bathtub. Georg had a hold on his arms and Tom's coworker Brent held onto his legs. They were bound and determined to toss Tom into the cold water.

Tom was fighting the two men for all he was worth.

Both Brent and Georg rolled their eyes and tossed Tom unceremoniously onto the sand as Tom started to make an awful, high-pitched whine that made him sound like a bitchy queen.

"That hurt my ass, you pricks!" Tom said, standing up and chasing after them.

"You really want to start something with us again, Tom? Do you really want to start something? We'll ignore the queen scream and throw you right smack into the ocean!" Brent said, holding his hands up in a 'bring it on' fashion.

Tom sent them both the finger before walking over to Tina, another one of his coworkers who could make a driftwood fire better than anyone he knew. She'd lived here her entire life and had made her first driftwood fire when she was eight.

Tom absolutely adored her attitude and spunk. She was his female best friend.

"Have I ever told you that if I were straight, I'd marry you in a heartbeat?"

"Have I ever told you that if you were straight, I'd reject your marriage in a heartbeat?"

Tom clutched his chest. "I'm hurt. Really. I think my heart is broken."

Tina made a face of sympathy. "Aw, honey, you don't have a heart."

Tom pretended to be offended. Many said the two had the dynamic quality of Jack and Karen from Will and Grace, which came on the retro channel every now and then. It was simply made worse because Tina had that high-pitched, almost nasally voice. And when Tom did the bitchy queen act he was so famous for, it was like watching the show in real life.

"So, how's the fire coming?" Tom asked, looking at the odd, small pile of sticks Tina had arranged.

"I have absolutely no idea, I didn't think to check if it was a boy or girl."

Tom burst out laughing. "See, this is why I love you."

"Wanna elope?"

"Very much."

"Too bad."

Tom fell back on the sand, his face distraught. "Again, I am denied the love of my life through sarcasm!"

"You think you'd be used to it by now, Tom," Georg said, setting out a blanket.

"You're all fired!" Tom wailed, rolling over onto his stomach in the sand.

Tina poked at him with one of her sticks. "Up you get, my dear queen."

"I don't enjoy being called a queen."

"And why is that?"

Tom puffed out his chest. "Because I am not a queen!"

"So stop acting like one, honey."

Tina quickly lit the fire with a splash of lighter fluid and a strategically placed match. She quickly piled more wood on top of the tiny flame and let it get bigger and bigger. Tom stared at it, inexplicably mesmerized.

"It's not going anywhere, Tom. You don't need to watch it." Georg tossed Tom a Coke, grabbing a beer for himself. Tom rolled his eyes.

"So says you." Tom cracked the tab. "And wasn't I allowed at least one beer tonight for my good behavior?"

"You get that later, Sparky. You need to be able to appreciate it, so you get a few Cokes first."

"Oh, great. Thanks, Georg." Tom grimaced. He wanted a beer and he wanted one now. Ah, well, he'd live. "Dude, I'm hungry. Hand me the package of hot dogs and one of those fork things. Thank you!"

Tom held the hot dog over the fire, watching it cook while everyone mingled and laughed around him. Tina nudged his arm.

"Whatcha thinkin' about?"

Tom shrugged. "Just wonder if Bill's doctor appointment went okay."

"I highly doubt they found something else wrong with him. They've had twenty-two years. If they couldn't figure everything out in that amount of time, then they need to have their doctor's licenses ripped up."

A very, very loud shriek from Jess, Brent's girlfriend, interrupted what Tom was going to say in reply as Brent chased her around with a piece of washed-up seaweed. Tom wondered why he wasn't doing what he normally did and rounded up as many as he could, than hopped on each of the little air sacks to hear them pop.

Maybe he was trying to flirt. Tom didn't know if gay flirting was different than straight flirting. He hoped not.

"Your processed meat is going to catch on fire," Tina pointed out, nodding towards Tom's hot dog.

Tom pulled it away from the fire and smiled at the crispy, nearly blackened, outer layer. "Nova! You. Slave." He pointed at Georg. "Toss me the mustard."

Georg smirked and threw the bottle at Tom. Tom let out a very undignified squeal and threw his arms over his face as the bottle hit his stomach. He groaned and glared at Georg, who snickered.

Tom looked over at Tina. "Kiss it better?"

Tina gave him a sweet smile. "Bite me."

Georg roared with laughter.

~+~

"But, but, can't you just, like, scratch away part of my dead skin or something? Come on, I'll yank out a few hairs for you!"

Dr. Rosenthal stared at Bill with an amused expression, gently tapping the glass syringe against her arm as Bill tried desperately to get out of getting more blood drawn.

"I mean, if you really need my blood, can't you just use what you took earlier?"

"You know, you don't seem all that serious about getting this surgery done."

Bill's face paled, and he moaned as he pulled his sleeve back up, stuck his arm out, and hung his head.

"It's barely even a syringe full, calm down!" Dr. Rosenthal laughed. "And I'm not going to lie to you, pressing a needle in where your bruise has formed is going to hurt."

"Aren't you supposed to say things like 'you'll feel a slight pressure' so I don't freak?"

"You know as well as I do that you won't believe me," Dr. Rosenthal replied, repeating the steps she took earlier to draw Bill's blood.

Bill, although mostly immune to the feel of the needle, bit his lip and let out a small noise of discomfort. Getting blood drawn was one thing. Getting blood drawn twice within the space of an hour in the exact same spot was just awful.

That was going to be one nasty bruise by the time he was out of there.

Dr. Rosenthal pulled the needle out and put a cotton ball of the clotting factor on Bill's arm.

"No, leave it off. Let me bleed to death. That was awful." Bill fell on his side across the bench, arm across his face.

"If you bleed to death, then more drawing blood was for nothing."

Bill sighed. "Fine. I guess I can survive it."

"Well, alright then. I don't think we have to do anything else here. Do you need a refill on your blood medication prescription?"

"No, I have plenty of the little vials left. Enough to last me."

"Okay, good. I will call you when everything has been prepared for your surgery, and then we can go from there. Are you going to make your next appointment on the way out?"

"Yeah, I don't see why not."

"Alright. I will see you soon, Bill."

Bill hopped off the bench and followed the doctor out the door. "Same to you, Dr. Rosenthal."

Bill walked out to the waiting room and went up to the window where the receptionist was. She looked up at him. "Scheduling another appointment?"

"Like always."

"Alright then." She pulled up what Bill assumed was the schedule and clicked on a few things. "Do you want to make it for exactly one month?"

"Can we make it so it coincides with my recovery time?"

"Ah, the Chalice procedure?"

"Mm-hmm. So we should make it for... oh, six weeks?"

"Okay, then, six weeks. Is July sixth good? Three o'clock?"

"That's perfect."

"Okay. Your phone number hasn't changed, correct? Your area code is still seven-oh-seven?"

"Yes it is."

"Well, wonderful!" She wrote down the date and time on a card and handed it to him. "I will see you then."

Bill smiled and headed out of the doctor's office, arm only slightly throbbing.

~+~

"Don' tuh me! No, sthah, no marmelos im muh 'air! Tina!"

Tom fought to talk around a mouthful of s'more as Tina brought a melting marshmallow next to his hair. He was keeping her back with one of the prongs he had stuck his marshmallows on.

"Just let her throw one at you! What could it hurt?"

Tom swallowed the large glob of melted dessert in his mouth. "The well-being of my hair!"

"DIVA!" Tina shrieked, popping the marshmallow into her mouth.

Tom blinked. "What? Wait, no, I'm not a diva!"

"Dude. I've seen you iron your jeans," Georg said.

"That was one time and I was going on a job interview!"

"And did you get the job?"

"Still working there!"

"And he has a secretary."

Each comment came from a different person. "Stop picking on me, so I'm good at what I do and I ironed my pants once! Big deal!"

Tina patted his arm. "Well, I think we all agree on one thing you deserve to be good at."

A guitar all of a sudden popped into Tom's vision. Jess stood above him, holding it for him. Tom rolled his eyes, sighed, smiled and grabbed it. He strummed it once, tuned it to his liking, then looked at everyone. "Any requests?"

"Play something we'd all know!"

Tom smiled and started playing. Tina started laughing.

"You thought we'd all know that?"

"You mean you don't?"

"Honestly, Tom, who the fuck knows the words to The Star-Spangled Banner?" Georg looked as if it was a no-brainer.

"Excuse me for being patriotic, Georg!"

"Play something we'll all know, Tom! Seriously!"

Tom sighed and toyed with his lip ring, thinking. "Oh! I got one."

Almost as soon as Tom started strumming, Tina groaned. "What is the matter with you? No one knows these stupid songs you are playing! Give me this." She took the guitar from his hands. "Georg! You play."

As soon as Georg took it from Tina's hands, Tina seemed to realize something. "You didn't want to play, did you?"

"Not a note."

"Guys, the idiot tricked us!"

"I am ashamed!" Brent started fake sobbing into Jess' shoulder.

"Oh yeah, I'm smart, I fooled you, I'm amazing," Tom said, doing a victory dance.

"You know what I just realized?" Tina said, staring at the sand.

"I'm a genius?"

"Shut up, Tom. No, I realized that the sun is just barely starting to set and we've already crammed out faces full of food. We were supposed to wait until it got dark! What are we, a bunch of animals who fear the night? God!"

Tom stared at Tina, who was still staring at the sand. She blinked a few times, then slowly looked over at Tom. "Why are you staring at me?"

Tom smiled, laughed once, and threw an arm around Tina's shoulders. "I love you so much."

"So does everyone else, Tom. So does everyone else."