Shaking Off the Dust

By Rhianna Samuels

Excerpt - New, PG-13



I followed the boys through a maze of corridors to the PET scanner. One of Shimodo's research associates arrived, an earnest, red-haired young man in his late twenties.

“We borrow the PET scanner and MRI two nights a week for our research. Our grant pays the hospital for its use. Our research subjects are scheduled after ten p.m., although we can be bumped for an emergency.” Shimodo kept a polite conversation going. He'd introduced me to Carl after he'd finished setting up the equipment. I gave Shimodo a minute to get in the room that held the controls.

“How long have you known Shimodo?” I quizzed.

Carl gave me a reproachful look. “I've worked with Professor Shimodo for six years.”

“So, is he mean? Always has to have his way or what?” I asked to see his reaction and because I knew Shimodo could hear every word.

The speaker in the room clicked on and Shimodo spoke, “Hannah, behave. Carl, ignore her, she's mad at me. She's a caffeine addict and she's going cold turkey.”

Carl grinned at me. “It's a bitch, isn't it? He doesn't know I still sneak a cup once in a while.”

“I heard that and we will discuss it very soon,” Shimodo added.

That got an even bigger grin out of Carl. He hooked me up to a monitor hanging from my chest. “Okay, Professor, we're ready.”

Shimodo asked, “Are you comfortable?”

“You're kidding, right?” I snapped back.

“Okay, Hannah, we're ready to go here. You can call him.”

“Tom, come out, come out wherever you are.” He appeared bending over my face. “Dammit, Tom, I asked you not to do that.”

“Are you all right, ma'am?” Carl was in the room with me.

“I'm peachy, Carl.”

“Hannah has the ability to communicate with the dead, Carl. We are going to be recording her so please refrain from talking until we're done,” Shimodo said.

For the next hour, Tom told me names and details about half-a-dozen plane crash victims. It was all he could remember clearly. I repeated each word and every so often the scanner would go on and off. I didn't cry this time, so I was making strides in my mood surges. I waited patiently for them to unhook me, but Tom decided to have a seat at my feet. I should say on my feet.

“Get off me, Tom. It's already cold in here.” I kicked, trying to shake him loose.

Carl watched like he'd inadvertently walked into a psych ward.

Shimodo came over. “Tom,” he said in a low rumble. “You're going to make her mad enough that she won't let us finish the tests. Be nice to Hannah.”

Tom jumped off the scanner and pushed a hand through Shimodo's arm.

Shimodo was worried about his project, me. I love being objectified by a scientist. “Hey, Carl, ever been touched by a ghost?” I asked. “Go on, Tom, show him what he's missing.”

“You're just mean,” Tom accused.

“Seriously. Tom's going to touch you, well actually, pass his hand through some part of you. You'll know when he does. Would that be okay?”

Carl looked at me, then at Shimodo who nodded his head.

“Yeah, I guess.” He expected to be the butt of a joke.

“Tom, it's your chance to be tested,” I said. “And I am not mean. Bitchy yes, mean no.”

All three men smiled.

Tom stepped over to Carl and passed a hand through his shoulder. The young man jumped, surprise and shock in his eyes. “He touched my shoulder, didn't he?”

I nodded. “He likes to sit on feet too. So when your toes freeze up, it's usually him.”

“He only likes to sit on your feet, Hannah.” Shimodo glanced at me, his face solemn, then he winked. “The MRI is available now. I need to map your brain to assess what damage is residual from your surgery and your electrical shock this week.”

Carl looked at me like I was an alien. An extraterrestrial he was prepared to vivisect on the spot. I could see the excitement in his eyes. He walked beside me as we headed to the MRI, trying to get up enough nerve to ask questions.

“Spit it out, Carl. You're going to choke on your tongue if you don't.”

Shimodo looked back at me, shaking his head. He did that a lot.

“You're the one in all the news reports. I saw you on CNN. You just went down like… How did he find you?” He pointed at Shimodo.

I stopped. Tom and Shimodo moved up the hall.

“Tom is Shimodo's best friend. Tom took me to him. Actually I drove.”

“All those people you were talking about in the scanner?”

“Plane crash victims with Tom. We're trying to help them.” I started walking again. The boys had turned a corner and were out of sight now. “What's Shimodo like to work with?”

“The best. I'm lucky to be in this research program. He's a nice guy. Every woman in the research program and some of the men have been throwing themselves at him for years. He could have the pick of the students, but he's never been interested. Always a gentleman though.” His voice was conspiratorial.

“Is he gay?” The really beautiful ones usually were. At least that was my excuse why they were never attracted to me. “I heard he had a fiancée for a while.” I was pretty convinced he wasn't gay, but I hoped Carl would elaborate on the other woman. I couldn't ask Tom for details. He'd give me crap about it all. He already lectured me.

“I don't think he is gay. He dates women. He never dates students.” Carl's expressive face said I was transparent in my questions. “He was engaged once that I know of, they were in med school together. She's got a huge neurology group in town and wanted him to go into practice with her. He opted to do research. I guess she didn't like the idea of being the primary moneymaker. I heard that he was the one who broke it off, not her.”

Tom appeared in my face again. “Gossiping, Hannah?”

“That's none of your business, what this young man and I discuss. Now go away, Tom.”

Shimodo reappeared at the end of the hall, tapping his finger on his watch. “We should hurry, Hannah. You'll have to put a gown on, you've got a zipper and metal in your bra.”

“How silly of me to think I might escape with some dignity intact…dammit! I can't even think of an end to that sentence. I told you I'd be too tired for this.”

“You should have drunk all the tea at the restaurant. It helps with the memory.” He kept a straight face.

I jerked the gown from his hand. “Piss off, Shimodo.”

“Mood swings, Carl. Tom has determined she has a lot of mood swings.” He laughed.

I slammed the dressing-room door and changed.