Specimen by Irina Kovalyova

Author:Irina Kovalyova
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: House of Anansi Press Inc
Published: 2015-05-21T17:02:46+00:00

3

The moment the security officer left our room, Song became different. It was as if her entire body had undergone a transformation. Her back straightened. Her face brightened up. The grimness, so pronounced in her face just moments ago, had given way to something resembling cheer. Which was a strange thing to see in someone apparently so aggrieved.

She sat on one of the beds and bounced up and down.

“I’ve passed my first assignment,” she said, and grinned from ear to ear.

“What’s that?”

“You.”

I accepted her words at face value. Pavel had warned me that I’d have a minder in North Korea, and Song didn’t seem too bad. I could’ve got a far creepier person, I imagined, and silently thanked my lucky stars. At the same time, I was intrigued by her metamorphosis and waited to see what would happen next. She was silent, however, so I set my suitcase on the bed and began to unpack. As I was taking my clothes out, I sensed an oncoming headache.

A jug of water stood on the table. I poured myself a glass. Then I fished an aspirin out of my backpack, popped it into my mouth, and ground down on the bitter pill.

Song was watching me from the bed, still bouncing on it.

“Dinner’s in an hour,” she said.

I turned to face her. “I won’t go. I’m tired. I have no appetite anyway. I just feel like sleeping. I think I’ll just wash up and go to bed.”

She stopped bouncing and for a few moments sat perfectly still, like a statue, her hands folded neatly on her knees.

“Okay,” she said finally. “I’ll accompany you to the bathroom when you’re ready.”

“There’s no need.” I laughed. “The bathroom is just down the hall, right? I’m sure I’ll find it. ”

“No.” She shook her head vigorously. “You don’t understand. I must go with you everywhere you go. Those are my orders.”

Okay, I thought, this will be interesting, and turned back to my suitcase.

Song, meanwhile, reached for her own satchel and brought out a small notebook. Gazing sideways at me, she wrote something down in it in pencil, tore the page out, and passed it to me.

It read: WAIT TILL NIGHT FALLS TOMORROW.

I started and began to open my mouth to say something, although I had no idea what that something would be, when she silently pointed to the ceiling with a finger and then brought it to her lips. Suddenly she lunged toward me and snatched the note out of my hands. In another instant she crumpled it, stuffed it into her mouth, and swallowed it whole.

I was so shocked by her actions I had to sit down on the bed.

We stared at each other in silence, trying to read each other’s thoughts.

“I’m ready to go to the bathroom now, Comrade,” I said at last, louder than I meant to. “Please, show me the way.”

At the other end of the dim hallway was a tiled room with a long, trough-like sink. The toilet stalls had no doors, and it took me a moment to realize what that meant for doing what my grandmother called “poopeeri.

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