I look down at my black watch. 8:00 a.m. it reads. Crap! I think, I'm gonna be late! I promised Dr. Staier I would meet with him today. About what? I don't know. But I have to be there. I run outside and jump on my black and red motorcycle. It's a Ducati 1198 superbike. I start it up and ride down the cracked street, avoiding potholes. I rack my brain, trying to think of where he said to meet him. Tubkie's Cafe or something. I look around the small city for it, and find it easily, it's right next to the mechanics shop. I park my motorcycle in the parking lot and walk into the restaurant, if you could even call it that. I ask the guy at the counter for a caramel frappuccino. I pay for it and take a sip. Delicious. I look around the small shop and my gaze locks on the familiar face of Dr. Staier.
I walk towards him and sit down across from his seat at the small round table. He looks at me with that unnerving gaze of his. I shuffle in my seat, suddenly uncomfortable.
"We've found out why you don't have the disease." He says. I look up at him, surprised.
"What?" I ask.
"You heard me," He says, "We've been taking many blood tests from each of our patients and you're the only one in the whole state that doesn't have the disease. You're immune. And we've found out why. You have a very strange blood type. One that we've never seen before. Your blood is very precious. It makes you immune. We could use your blood. Just about one ounce of it will make a person immune, according to our studies." He looks at me expectantly.
"So you're asking me to give up my blood to make everyone in the world immune to the disease. I only have so much blood you know. I would be dead after only 20 people." I say, furious that he thinks I would give up all my blood to a bunch of people I don't even know.
"Robyn, we're- I'm not asking you to give up all your blood. We want to use a small portion, just an ounce, to see if it really does work!" His face is starting to turn slightly red.
"And then?" I ask.
"And then we figure out what to do from there. All we're asking is for a small little portion of your blood. For the good of the world."
I shake my head in disbelief.
"But who would you use my blood on?" I ask. I'm the only one immune. Even Dr. Staier isn't immune, he's just in the very early stages of the disease.
"We're going to test every person in the country to see if there's anyone who doesn't have the disease yet. And that's who we'll give it to." He tells me as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
"But what if that person is already immune?" I ask, "What if they have my type of blood?"
"They won't." He says, the finality in his tone is clear. He's not even going to consider the possibility.
"Whatever," I say, "It's worth a shot." I don't say he can use my blood because he's convinced me, but because if my blood really can make people immune, then even if every diseased person dies, I won't be the only one left.
Dr. Staier nods and stands up.
"Wait, that's it?" I ask
"Yes," He says, "all we needed was your approval, and now we have it."
For some reason just him saying that makes me want to change my mind and say no. But it's too late for that now. I can't go back. Dr. Staier walks out the door, leaving me to drink my frappuccino and think about what he said. I finish my drink and throw the cup away. Then I walk through the door and hop on my motorcycle. I start it up, but don't go straight to the hospital, instead, I take a drive around town, not stopping at stop lights or anything. I ride to the edge of the mountains, at a spot in the woods. This is where I come when I need to get away, or think.
Right now, it's both. I dismount my motorcycle and head to a small clearing in the forest. I lay down on the ground and look up at the sky, blue with lots of clouds drifting by.
"Hey," I hear. I sit up quickly. It's just Damonte. I give him a weak smile.
"You okay?" He asks.
"Yeah," I say, "I'm fine, just tired."
"You wanna talk about it?" He asks. He knows me so well.
"I'm just a little mad 'cause Dr. Staier wants me to basically give up my blood to a bunch of people to test and see if they'll become immune. But he said I won't even know who is going to get my blood. I don't want to give up all my blood to some random person, especially not if I don't even know for sure if it'll work."
"And what did you say?" He asks.
"Well, I didn't really have a choice." I retort. He nods, not at all affected by my rude words. Damonte is one of my best friends. Has been since the Second Grade. He lives his life, everyday, hoping he won't get caught. He's 100% Hispanic and his parents are both illegal. If they get found out, and have to leave, then he leaves too.
"Sometimes you just have to let God work his ways and trust him to help you through the good, and the bad." I shake my head and laugh,
"Damonte, I don't know why you can always be so positive."
"It's because I have God on my side, and he keeps me happy." I don't agree with Damonte's beliefs about "God," because there can't be some mystical being in the sky that... nevermind... it just doesn't make sense.
"Did you check on your family today?" Damonte asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.
"Yeah. Sometimes, I feel like they would be better off at home, with me. I feel like they just get worse at the hospital. I don't know, it sounds crazy." He nods his understanding.
He walks towards me and holds out his hand. I take it and he pulls me up so I'm standing. I suddenly have the urge to cry. I know that Damonte isn't immune. He'll die. And there's nothing I can do to stop it. Tears build up behind my eyes and I force myself not to cry. Damonte seems to see my watery eyes and pulls me into a hug. I let myself cry on his shoulder. I know he won't care because he cares about me. I cry until I can't cry anymore and Damonte drives me back to the hospital on my motorcycle.
