Isolde Grinned Up At Me

  • by Kentwith a thin little nose between silver-rimmed spectacles
  • So why did the building planners put two toilets in the same stall?
  • They could… “experiment” on you
  • “Wash your face before you hug your mother,”
  • missing only one thing: a unicorn

Tune in next time part 462      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Isolde grinned up at me from the floor where she sat in a veritable heap of newborns.

“Does this fortress have an obstetrician!” I bellowed.

“Relax,” Isolde lilted. “I’ve already asked about it.”

A door opened and an elderly woman with a thin little nose between silver-rimmed spectacles marched in. Her ears bore multiple piercings, most of them festooned with shark’s teeth, and her exposed shoulders and forearms were coated in elaborate circus-themed tattoos. She tutted, drying her hands with a paper towel. “So why did the building planners put two toilets in the same stall? I’m serious here, I’m asking, so if some wise-ass says ‘to get to the other side’ I’m turning right back around.” She fixed me with a look over the tops of her glasses. “Do you know? You look like you’re in charge around here. Anyway, it does create opportunities to get to know each other, if you’re open-minded.”

Too many bizarre things had happened too rapidly, leaving my mind susceptible to her grandmotherly charm. Inwardly I stammered in search of an answer. They hoped it… They didn’t… They could… “experiment” on you in there? Fortunately none of it was out loud.

“Yes, I’m an obstetrician, and I’m also a doula and a sixth-degree black belt and I’m here to save the day.” The old woman stooped and hefted one of the tiny babies. “Wash your face before you hug your mother,” the multi-talented fortress obstetrician said, producing a pack of sterile wipes from her bag and cleaning the infant all over.

“Thank you,” Isolde said, accepting the clean babe while the woman proceeded to the next one. “What is your name?”

“You may address me as Doctor Nanna, all the cool kids are doing it.”

In what seemed like no time at all Isolde cradled her entire litter, all cleaned up, and four footmen arrived with a palanquin to convey her to the nursery that I hadn’t known was being prepared for the royal rugrats. But Isolde clearly liked it, with all its cartoony clouds and candy-colored, trademark-infringing bears. So, I said, “I hope you like it.”

Doctor Nanna spoke up, saying, “Not too shabby. It’s missing only one thing: a unicorn.”

The twitch of her left eyelid might have been an incidental, involuntary thing, but for the fact that “missing a unicorn” was Hopscotch Academy slang that only the teachers had ever employed.

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