Friday, August 29, 2008

LETTERS FROM HELLSING XII

I felt quite subdued as we wandered through the estate but managed to nod politely as Walter pointed out various items of architectural or historical interest. I should have been happy. I was, after all, out of the dungeon and away from the lab staff but what Walter had said in the elevator really bothered me.

“Possibly” human? What did he mean by that?

Not dead. Good.

Not undead. Even better.

Possibly not human? Surely Walter was just torturing me but... The lab staff seemed far more interested my test results than simple healing would warrant. Then there was how they were isolating me from the rest of the staff. The techs were always grumbling about having to go up and fetch their own food instead of it being brought down because of me and Walter always brought me my dinner. Even now, the few people who we encountered in the halls had their curiosity cut short by a single forbidding look from my guide. Clearly, this was to be a private tour.

Possibly not human? What then? I desperately wanted to demand further explanation from Walter but sensed the futility of trying to force information from him that he was disinclined to give. Besides I was not entirely certain that I was truly forgiven for that night on the stairs and then there was the fact that I was, well, afraid of what the answer might be. So I followed him about fingering drapes and staring unseeing at paintings until Walter indicated it was time to move on to the next room.

At some point, I realized that Walter had stopped talking. Had he asked me a question?

“Sorry what?”

“Are you all right Ms. Doyle?”

Of course I’m NOT all right! I’m not even sure I’m human! “Oh yes Walter, I’m fine.”

“I am afraid you are not enjoying yourself.”

“No, really I am. I just got distracted. It’s all quite lovely, please continue. I believe you said the drapes were Italian?”

“French.”

“Ah yes, French.”

He gave me an appraising look.

“Perhaps you need a rest.”

“No, I’m fine. Really.” No Walter please don’t send me back. I’ll be good.

The silence was deafening.

Come on Walter, just tell me I’m human. That it was just a big joke. We’ll laugh and laugh and we can go through every stick of furniture in the house and I will be charming and make witty and insightful comments. Please, just tell me I’m human. Please.

“There is something I would like to show you.” He said finally. I followed Walter trying to look both enthusiastic and attentive. I’m sure I looked like a moron. When we reached the elevator Walter said quite casually, “I read an interesting article in your Time magazine recently.”

“Oh yes?”

“It related the results of a study of delayed reaction to traumatic situations of American soldiers returning from combat.” He glanced at me as he pressed the call button.

“Post Traumatic Stress?”

“Yes. It seems that it can resurface weeks, months or even years later unexpectedly causing the soldier to act quite out of character to even a seemingly normal situation.”

Was this an olive branch I wondered, relaxing slightly when I saw him push the button for the 1st floor. Not going back to the dungeon just yet.

“Apparently the effects and duration of their symptoms can be directly linked to the environment in which the subject is initially placed to recover.” There was that appraising look again.

“It sounds like a good article.” I said “I’ll have to try and read it.”

“I am afraid Ms. Doyle that for obvious reasons we have not been able to provide you with a very nurturing environment in which to recover.”

Before I could respond, the elevator doors opened and Walter stepped out. I had no choice but to follow. We walked a short distance to a pair of huge wooden carved panel doors. “Ah, here we are. I think this portion of the tour will be more to your liking.” He said as he opened the doors.

How can I describe it?

Angels singing. Beams of light cascading from heaven. Ode to Joy playing in the background. It was...the Library.

Oh bliss!

I think I cried. It was so beautiful.

Wooden chairs and tables, rolling ladders. A card catalog for goodness sake sitting there prim and proper in the middle of the room. Then of course there were all of those books. Row upon row as far as the eye could see.

Sigh.

And the smell, ah, the smell! Paper, leather and warm wood with just a hint of beeswax and lemon oil. A true bibliophile can hyperventilate on such wonderful scent.

What sweet ambrosia. What bliss!

“Oh...Walter...” Was all I could manage. I took one or two steps into the room and stood. I was literally trembling with joy.

Monday, August 25, 2008

LETTERS FROM HELLSING XI

The next morning, I was entertaining myself by placing bets as to whether the plasma bag going into my right arm would empty before the pint bag coming out of my left would be full (I sometimes cheat by squeezing my left hand into a fist to make the blood come out faster. It’s sad really), When a miracle occurred. I was addressed directly, in the lab, by name.

“Good morning Ms. Doyle. Are you well?”

Hurray! It’s Walter! No wait. Oh, who cares, human interaction.

“Good morning Walter. I am not sure if I am well.” I glanced at the nurse who was adjusting my plasma flow to go faster (the house always wins) and asked her. “Am I well?”

She totally ignored me but spoke to Walter instead. “Good morning Mr. Dollneaz!” She gushed. Such an unexpected pleasure to see you. Can I help you with anything?” Emphasis on the word 'anything'. What the?

“Yes Miss Pringle. I would like to see Ms. Doyle’s progress report please.”

“Oh, well, this isn’t your usual time Mr. Dollneaz.”

8:07pm on the dot. I thought.

“We don’t have anything prepared. Perhaps if you came back in about an hour, we could put something together for you.”

“That’s quite alright Miss Pringle, I’ll just review her charts.”

Miss Pringle snatched up the clipboard pressing it tightly to her small bosom. “Oh Mr. Dollneaz it’s such boring technical stuff. Why don’t you tell me what you need and I will check the patient’s chart for the information.” Was she batting her eyes at him? Ewww!

“Please do not trouble yourself on my account Miss Pringle. I assure you I know exactly where to look for what I need.” He said plucking it from her unresisting fingers.

He glanced down at the chart frowning slightly then began flipping though the pages. “Ms. Doyle, you seem to be doing quite well, all things considered.” He glanced up from the chart at Miss Pringle with an unreadable expression on his face. “Surprisingly well, wouldn’t say Miss Pringle?”

“Well I’m not, that is to say, the patient seems to be progressing but I’m not...”

“Yes quite well I would say.” Said Walter interrupting her dithering.

“Oh yes?” I said totally confused. “That’s good to know.”

“Certainly well enough for a short break from the laboratory.” He continued.

“Oh yes?” I said again cautiously hopeful.

“Perhaps Ms. Doyle you would care to accompany me upstairs this afternoon?”

“Yes.” I said quickly, quivering like a dog who has just been shown his leash.

“A brief tour of the house perhaps?”

“Sounds nice.” I said casually, my mental tail wagging furiously. Walkies! Yeah!

“Mr Dollneaz. I’m not sure that’s possible.” Said Miss Pringle.

Grrrrr! Bad nurse!

“She seems quite up to it.”

Yes! Walkies! Wag, wag, wag. (Dear God what is wrong with me?)

“I’m just not sure that it’s appropriate to remove our patient without the Doctor’s permission.”

Grrrrr! Bad Miss Pringle....grrrr. Bark! Bark!

“Appropriate, Miss Pringle?” Walter asked fixing her with a look that could freeze boiling water on Mercury.

***Mental note; Walter does not like to be argued with.***

“I, well. It’s just that we have a lot of tests to run and I’m not the doctor so I can’t make that....” She rambled before the glacier that was Walter's look froze her to the floor.

“Would 12:15 suit you Ms. Doyle?” Asked Walter consulting his pocket watch which I am sure is more accurate than the atomic clock in Greenwich.

“It would.”

“Very good. Then I shall return in one hour to fetch you. Please be ready.”

“We can go now if you’d like.” I hinted, not liking the look in Miss Pringle’s eye.

“ I am afraid I have one or two things I must attend to first Ms. Doyle but I shall return at 12:15.” He said. “Miss Pringle, if you would be so kind as to alert Dr. Levin to our plans? Let him know that he can relate any concerns directly to me when I return.”

“Of course Mr. Dollneaz.”

He snapped the chart shut and handed it back to her.

“Will that be all Mr. Dollneaz?”

“Yes, thank you.” He said heading for the door. He stopped in the doorway and turned back to her. “I, of course, look forward to reading that report when I return.” He said. His face once again a placid lake of bland politeness (there be dragons here).

“Ms. Doyle.” He said nodding to me and was gone.

I almost felt sorry for Miss Pringle as I had watched the cold granite boulder of Butlertude grind over her. Almost. Had she not been aware of Walter’s evil butler superpowers? If not, she certainly was now. Poor thing.

That man was scary and yet here I was psyched out of my mind to wander off with him. For all I knew he had just been waiting for me to get well enough so that he could take me outside and kick the trash out of me for the stupid stunt I pulled on the night I arrived. Nah, Walter didn’t seem the type to hit girls...I hoped.

***Mental note; No more pissing off Walter.***

And yet, I could not wait for him to come back and get me out of this horrible room. So I happily sat for the next hour, 58 minutes 35 seconds actually, humming show tunes because there was no singing allowed in the lab (no really, they posted a sign my 2nd day here) and wagged my mental tail while I waited for walkies. I didn’t even get upset when miss Pringle “accidentally” rammed the needle and punched a hole in my vein while changing out my plasma bag. Stupid flat chested b... I mean, Hey, these things happen. ‘There’s a bright golden haze on the meadow...’ Wag, wag.

---------------------------------------------------------


“Shall we take the elevator this time or would you prefer the stairs?” Asked Walter innocently.

Oh. Ha, ha, ha! OK, I guess I deserve that.

“Look Walter, Mr. Dollneaz.”

“Walter is fine.”

“Walter, I am sorry.”

“Ms. Doyle?” Walter’s face was a study of practised innocent incomprehension.

OK, so he’s going to make me work for it. “About the night I arrived I mean.  I behaved....badly.”

Walter waived it off with a dismissive gesture. “Think nothing of it.” He said ushering me into the elevator.

“But still, I don’t think I made a very good first impression.”

“I assure you Ms. Doyle you made quite an impression.” He said pressing the button.

Is he teasing me? Impossible. Seras assures me Walter has no sense of humour. “Sooo,” I said after a moments awkward silence. “Did I get a clean bill of health?” I asked gesturing towards the medical report tucked under his arm.

“Not quite but you seem to be progressing quite well medically.”

“Well that’s good I suppose and my, that is, the question of my...viability? Any progress on that?”

“Ah yes, Ms. Doyle you will be pleased to know that it has been determined that you are not a vampire.”

“Oh yes?”

“Nor a ghoul.”

“Well that is good news.”

“Yes”

“It’s nice to be human again.”

“Oh, I didn’t say that.”

“What?!”

“I did not say you were human.”

“But you just said.”

“I said we have determined that you are neither a vampire nor a ghoul.”

“Then I’m human.”

“Not necessarily.”

“Well I’m not a fish!”

“Certainly not.”

“Then I’m human!”

“Possibly.”

There it is again. He has to be messing with me. Of course I’m human. Aren’t I? What else could I be? Surely it’s just some mean little butler joke but he seems so serious. Damn him! I’m sure I’m human! But I’m having my doubts about Walter.