The Test--Finished.

I think this is the "finished" first draft.

        

 

 

The Test

 

 

 

        He wiggled nervously in the moulded plastic chair, trying, in vain to get comfortable.

        “I hope there’s nothing wrong,’ he thought, ‘I knew I shouldn’t have gone to that party.”

        “Giles Mathias,’ the nurse called out, ‘Giles.”

        He got up, seat covered in sweat.

        “Step in here please, now what seems to be the matter?”

        “Well I need a test.”

        “What kind of test?”

        “A blood test.”

        “Okay, which one precisely?”

        “Well, um, you see I went to a party last week, and I don’t remember anything, but I know I was there for the whole week and now—”

        “Now you just want to make sure that everything is okay?” The nurse cut in.

        “Yea exactly, I mean I’ve never done anything like that before, I’ve always been safe,  so this is my first time getting the test….”

        “I am not going to preach but if you’re active you should be test and if this was the late ninety’s I would have to ask you to come back in three to six months for it, but lucky for you this is 2008, no need to wait, while I go get the kit, let me take your temperature.”

        He opened his mouth, the thin plastic rubbed against the soft-lining of tissue underneath his tongue, this only served as a momentary mental distraction taking his mind off of a test; the results of which, he considered to be a judgment sentence. 

        “Well, your temperature’s fine and I suspect that you are going to be fine too, open your mouth again  and I’ll take this swab and run it along the soft tissue and then ship it to the lab and in about twenty-four hours we’ll have your results.” The soft cotton tickled causing him to gag, “I see you aren’t very popular with the gents, not with a reflex like that.”

        “Huh, what?” he asked, not fully sure he heard her correctly.

        “Well—I am sorry if I offended you, but I saw your bracelet and just figured—”

        “No,’ he broke in, ‘you just kind of shocked me with it that’s all but really I enjoyed the levity, and no I’m not that popular,” he said, smiling. 

        “I am glad I could help, brighten your day, now we’ll call you when the results come in, or if you’d like you can call us, but we’ll need your name and this number to give it to you over the phone, but we would prefer that you come in.”

        “Okay, I’ll just call and then when they’re here I’ll stop by.”

        “Sounds good, but remember to relax and don’t let this get to you, you seem like a nice young man, I am sure you’re worried over nothing, but I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said escorting him to the waiting room door. 

        Nervously, he put on his, headed to his car, “I could just take my car off a high cliff someplace and not worry about it, or better yet a good size bottle of Absolut, orange juice combined with my dads sleeping pills would work nicely,” he said to himself, knowing that he could never really do it. 

        His mind, taunted him with images of what could be his fate tomorrow, “I am sorry Mr. Mathias you have HIV…” raced through his mind. He tried to dismiss this as fear and paranoia, but each time he closed his eyes, there was the nurse, counselor by her side carrying packets of information. With the late night talk show host and B-rated movies he tried to keep his mind from returning to what could be, “I can’t have it,’ he mumbled, ‘I’m too young, I’ve never bare backed and besides it was just a college party although there was a lot of Crystal and Poppers going around—I can’t have it no one would be that careless or would they?’” he thought, knowing in the recess of his mind that it was indeed possible. 

        “I am not going to be Stats tomorrow,” he said taking to Ambian, hoping that they’d allow him to rest undisturbed. 

        They closed the waiting room from noon to one for lunch and he sat in the parking lot waiting for the doors to reopen eating his McChicken. 

        “Hello, my name is Giles Mathias and I’m here for some test results.”

        “Oh um, when were you seen?”

        “Yesterday.”

        “Let me see if they’re back.”

        “I’m sorry they aren’t back yet you can wait they should be here sometime today, or we can call you when they get in.”

        “No-no, I don’t think I can make it if I leave, I’ll just wait.”

        “Okay, help yourself to a chair and the nurse will get you when we get them back.”

        “Alright,’ he sighed walking to a chair, ‘I can’t stand this waiting and I hate these goddamn chairs,’” he said grabbing a stack of old and tattered magazine.

        Time seemed to linger as he sat reading, “Redbook, Working Mother, Golf Digest Magazines.” He now knew which dresses to wear to make his waist look slimmer, how to cook a full gourmet meal to impress your husbands boss in thirty minutes, and how to improve his golf swing. “The only thing that could be useful is about the dress, the drag show will be here in a few months,” he thought jokingly. 

        “Giles Mathias,” the nurse called.

        He got up, palms sweaty, “so what’s, what’s the verdict?” 

        “Let’s come in here please.”

        The room was a pale blue, posters of red and rainbow ribbons hung on the wall, “A counselor will be in a minute if you need one, but giving the timing of your test in relation to your activity, it came back as negative—’

        “Negative,” the word hung in his head like a resounding chime.

        ‘we need you to come back in a month to be retested to make sure, and now are drugs a problem?’”

        “Sorry what?” he asked trying to pull himself together from his revelry.

        “Drugs? are they a problem? you know Meth, poppers, etc.,”

        “No, never I mean just that once.”

        “Okay then, well, let me show you out, and remember come back in about a month.” 

Author's Note

Thank you for your comments and reviews.

Reviews

[Dave Lounsbury]

Nice work with this. It flowed well and kept me interested throughout. The dialogue seemed very natural and the pacing was good.