She felt someone dab her head in places.
“This is going to keep your head still. So, make Mr. Nisha happy and don’t try to move. Okay?”
“’Kay.”
Movement. Lilly forced her eyes open. Gloved hands had clamped a heavy metal frame to her head while somebody turned the screws. There was no pain—just a dull squeezing across the top of her skull.
When they were through, her head was frozen in place. And all she could see was the thick metal bar across her eyes—and hands turning knobs and moving things.
For a brief spell, she closed her eyes, and …
She was at Crescent Lake Beach with her mom and dad. Her mother was saying not to go out into deep water.
“Lilly, don’t fall asleep. We need you to be awake to talk to us, okay? Just watch the video.”
“‘Kay,” she said. On the television monitor she was still dancing with Mr. Nisha. She looked so silly with him attached to her like that, his big fat trunk swaying with the music.
Someplace in the background she thought she heard the squealing of the gurney.
“Because the brain is completely encased in bone, reaching surgical targets is more difficult than for surgeries on other parts of the body. And the reason, of course, is that critical structures or vessels limit the choice of possible trajectories. But that’s not our concern here.”
Then Lilly heard another voice. “Doctor, the first target is two millimeters below the midcommissural line and twelve millimeters laterally which locates us in the subthalamic nucleus.”
“Good,” the doctor said. “This halo structure has major advantages over conventional stereotaxic frames for determining coordinates,” he continued, although Lilly had no idea what he was saying. “It’s precisely calibrated with little stopples to prevent the probes from straying or probing too far. It’s one of the wonders of finely tooled machines—the ultimate in precision drilling.”
She closed her eyes. Someplace in the fog she heard, “Don’t be afraid. It’s not going to hurt.”
Small voices. Kids blurred on the beach behind her as she waded into deeper water. “Not too far.” She tried to look back at the beach, to her mother sitting on the blanket. She could hear her calling her name, but because of the big metal thing on her head, she couldn’t turn.
“Lilly, look at the movie and tell me your name.”
“Lilly Bellingham.”
“Good girl.”
She closed her eyes and was back at the lake, now in waist-deep water. Voices on the shore fading, and her mother calling her name. “That’s far enough.” Suddenly she heard something that snapped her eyes open.
She tried to turn her head, but it was anchored in place.
The sound was right behind her. On top of her.
“Lilly, do you feel anything?” Miss Vera.
“Uhnnn.”
“What’s that?”
“No, I don’t.” Her words sounded clear.
“Good. What’s your name?”
“I told you it’s Lilly Bellingham.”
The buzzing was louder, almost as if there were some kind of bug in her head trying to get out.
“How you doing, Lilly?”
“Fine.”
More buzzing at the other side of her head. And a funny tingling sensation deep inside as hands worked away on the instruments.
Suddenly the drilling stopped.
“Lilly, how you doin’?”
“Fine.”
She started to doze off, when the same man in the green mask said, “First hollow needle, please.”
“Localization?”
“Target.”
“Good.”
Out of the crack of her eyes, she saw a hand with a large hypodermic needle full of cloudy pink stuff.
“Lilly, tell me your name.”
“Lilly Bellingham.”
She waded farther into the water up to her chest. Strange, the water was turning cloudy. She tried to look back to shore, but could not turn her head. She heard her mother’s voice.
“Needle.”
A little later, somebody said something. “Lilly, tell me your name.”
“Lil-ly Bell-ing-ham.”
“Good girl. Needle.”
The water was turning pink. A milky pink. Like calamine lotion.
“Lilly, what’s your name?”
“Lilbingum.”
“What’s that?”
“Lilbingum.”
“Good girl. Needle.”
Lilly moved deeper into the water which she knew was not a good idea because her mother said not to go in past her waist especially after eating, and she had just eaten a sandwich what kind she forgot but she just could not stop moving away from shore and the funny thing was that the water became cloudier as she moved deeper— cloudy pinkish-white and bright as if it were blending in with the blank white clouds on the horizon or as if the water were turning into milk which was so strange because it was dark brownish-green earlier when she walked into it and she could see her feet through it but now it was cloudy white like the sky ahead and above—just a big white mass.
“Lilly!” Her mother, calling from far away.
She opened her eyes.
“Needle.”
So many needles.
“Lilly, tell me your name.”
“Libum.”
“What’s that?”
“Lib.”
“Needle.”
Lilly could barely hear her mother calling her. She wanted to call back and tell her mom that she could not stop and that she had to come and bring her back before it was too late—but the strange thing was she could not answer her.
“Lilly? Are you okay? Tell me your name, Lilly.”
Lilly opened her eyes.
The woman’s face was right above her. And behind her on the television monitor was a picture of a little girl. She could see it clearly and she could hear her words.
“Your name, Lilly. Tell me your name.”
She had no idea.
48