Oh. Goody.
“I need answers. Perhaps more than anyone else here. Please do whatever it takes.”
Both Berak and Saana nodded in unison. His motion was clipped, hers rueful and accompanied by a half-smile of encouragement. Both appeared determined and focused.
“You have my word, Becka. If there is something untoward going on, we will hunt out the cause.” Berak’s firm tone was reassuring, despite how much she dreaded the process.
Becka inhaled slowly, held it for five seconds, and then slowly exhaled. Just like in yoga class.
Berak motioned for her to back up a step, and Becka complied. From a bowl of brushes he plucked one with great flourish, snapping it in the air as if testing the mettle of the bristles. Appearing satisfied, he dipped one into a jar of bright, sparkly blue goo before approaching Becka.
“Hold your arms out slightly...yes good. You might recall sometimes these sting or are...uncomfortable. Please only mention any significant issues.”
As if could she have forgotten? Becka steeled her nerves and nodded. She remembered perfectly how some tests had burned, others itched, one had even bled the last time.
“Then let’s begin,” Berak said. He painted the pigment across the exposed flesh of her upper arm, the cold liquid sending a chill down her back. It itched for a moment, but the sensation quickly passed. Her headache returned, no doubt due to the stress of the process.
Saana approached her from the other side and painted a thin, goldenrod unguent patch on the top of her other arm. This one burned for a few moments, and then the sensation also faded away.
She inhaled, held it for a five count, and then exhaled again. Just like yoga. If only her head would stop aching.
The painting continued, until her arms were rainbows of colors and textures interspersed with glittering sheens. Both Saana and Berak watched her face after each application. Becka watched them for what might be construed as meaningful reactions, and got none. She fought against flinching from each new stroke of the brushes against her skin.
They moved on to her exposed shoulders and upper back. Those ached and stung, but again, each reaction faded after a few moments. The intensity of her headache neared migraine territory.
The process hurt, but thankfully not as bad as the last time. Inhale. Exhale. Release anxiety. Be yoga.
The pair moved on to her exposed legs, coating the skin with another rainbow of colors with speed and precision. Due to the repeated, if minor, assaults, her sensitivity had peaked. What was in these liquids that could be so caustic? With each new flick of the brushes, she jumped.
Saana’s expression filled with compassion. Berak’s expression hardened with determination.
Inhale. Exhale. Calm. Yoga.
Becka watched them move through the inventories of their cases, mentally counting down a tally of potentially remaining applications. Based on the pounding of her head, even one more was too many--and it appeared they intended to apply every last cream, paint, and salve available in both their arsenals.
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Screw yoga.
Becka’s head ached so badly that even the pads of her fingers and toes were sore.
“This is some serious bullshit,” Becka uttered under her breath.
“Pardon me, dear?” Saana asked, an eyebrow raised.
“Oh, nothing,” Becka muttered.
Finally the pair of testers set down their brushes and wiped off their hands. The entire process couldn’t have taken more than a dozen minutes. Becka let out a long sigh, the worst was over. Now they all watched for the paint to dry. Or bubble. Or bleed.
Despite the full-tilt migraine throbbing through her head, the rest of the testing wasn’t as bad as she’d remembered. Sure, it still felt like her skin had been rubbed raw by steel wool, not paintbrushes, but the sensations were fading quickly.
Then again, perhaps things hurt less just in comparison to her monster headache? Ow.
“As we wait for reactions, please let us know if you experience anything out of the ordinary.” Saana moved in close, examining swatches of color. Berak stood a bit further away and strolled around her in a circular pattern.
“I have an awful headache. Not sure if that counts?”
“Are they common for you?” Berak asked.
“Yes. Stress can bring them on.”
Berak nodded, but his attention was focused on the swatches.
“This is curious,” Saana said to Berak, pointing to a patch on Becka’s left shoulder. She picked up a wooden stick from her supplies and returned to gently prod the area. “Have you ever seen kaladi ointment do that?”
Becka wanted to ask ‘do what?’ but held her tongue.
“It looks like no kaladi I have ever used.” Berak harrumphed. “Perhaps it has turned?”
Saana shook her head and barked out a laugh. “I am going to pretend you did not just insult my skills and training...oh my!” Saana rounded to Becka’s right foot. “This is the ishnay treatment, correct? Or did yours go bad as well?”
“Do not be ridicu-” Berak replied, hurrying to get a closer look. “Yes, I can confirm that is the ishnay. It was a brilliant red when I applied the serum. But look at it now.” He looked up at Saana, and then met Becka’s gaze. “Remarkable.”
Becka’s migraine abated ever so slightly. Somehow their rapt attention didn’t manage to lessen her anxiety. Being interesting to a tester didn’t bode well for her curse diagnosis.
As Saana prodded the spot, Becka had no challenge picking out what the pair were looking at. Although she’d avoiding watching them apply the testing patchwork, Becka saw the patch touched by Saana’s stick paling in color, while it also appeared to dry and crack as she watched.
Becka didn’t remember this from the last time. The last time they’d waited for an hour and some of the
