Marx Girl

“In the back of my arm.”

“Show me.”

Ben turns and lifts his sleeve up.

“Take your shirt off,” Cam orders.

Ben takes his shirt off over his head, and Cam studies the small mark. He pushes on the scar. “How big is it?” he asks.

“It’s like a small test tube cylinder, I think. I don’t know. I couldn’t really see what they were doing.”

Cam rubs his thumb over the scar to try and feel where it is. “What happens when I take it out? Is an alarm going to go off somewhere?”

Ben shrugs. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t fucking think so? I could get into some serious shit for doing this.”

“Don’t do it then,” Ben replies.

Oh, God, Ben hates asking for help as it is. I had to drag him here. “Come on, Cameron. Please,” I beg.

He inhales as he looks at it again. “I only have numbing cream. I didn’t bring any local anaesthetic home.”

“It’s fine.” Ben shakes his head. “Just do it. I don’t need anaesthetic.”

Cam raises an eyebrow. “Fine, come into my office; the lighting is the best in there.” He grabs his medical bag from near the front door, and we follow him. He pulls out the chair for Ben to sit on and moves the desk lamp over so it shines on Ben’s arm.

“This will numb it.” He rubs the cream onto Ben’s arm and takes out a scalpel, opening it and freeing it from its packaging. I put my hands over my mouth nervously. Cam concentrates and takes a piece of gauze, holding it close to where the scar is.

“Okay, so I’m going to open up the same scar.”

“Yep,” Ben replies calmly.

“Is it going to hurt?” I ask.

“A little,” Cam mutters as he puts on a pair of gloves, completely distracted by the task at hand. He runs his thumb up and over the scar as he feels for the chip. ‘’How long has this been here?” he asks as he concentrates.

“Six years,” Ben says flatly.

“Why you taking it out now?”

Ben’s eyes flicker to me. “I told you already.”

Cam’s eyes flash up and then he smiles broadly. “You want it out, Didge?”

“Damn straight, I do. I don’t trust this shit,” I snap.

Cam frowns as he cuts into Ben’s arm, and blood starts to trickle. “I would want it out, too.” He cuts deeper and the blood starts to run. He wipes it with the gauze.

I feel the blood start to drain from my face and my feet go tingly. I don’t feel so good. “Oh, jeez,” I whisper.

“Wait outside,” Ben orders.

Cam gets some long tweezers and starts to dig around in the cut. Ben winces.

“Is that hurting?” I whisper.

Ben doesn’t answer and Cam really gets in there with the tweezers. “I can’t seem to grab it.” He struggles as he tries to pull it.

I feel faint. “Oh, my God. This is horrible.”

Cam narrows his eyes as he really digs deep into the cut.

I cringe and close my eyes for my poor Ben.

“Shit,” Cam whispers.

“What?”

“I don’t think I can get it out.”

“What? Why?” I frown.

“I think it’s attached to the bone.”

“Cut if off,” Ben replies calmly.

Huh? My eyes widen as I watch on.

Cut it off? Cut what off?

Cam narrows his eyes as he digs deeper, and Ben’s eyes close as his body flinches from Cameron’s tugging.

Blood streams down his arm from the wound. Cam casually wipes it up with gauze.

More blood. More tugging. More… Oh, boy.

Blood trickles down into the gauze.

Cameron picks up the scalpel again and my legs turn to jelly.

“I’m going to have to scrape the bone a little to try and loosen it. Do you need something to bite down on?” Cameron asks.

“I’m good,” Ben replies calmly.

I look at the scalpel with the blood dripping from it, and begin to feel ill.

Oh… hell.

Cameron goes back in and Ben clenches his jaw as he looks straight ahead.

“Are you okay?” I whisper.

“Yep,” Ben replies, stony and still.

Of course, he’s okay. He’s not a yellow-bellied, weak-stomached wimp like you.

I clench my teeth to try and focus on supporting Ben.

“I’m fine,” I whisper.

Ben’s eyes meet mine and a frown crosses his brow. “You okay, Didge?”

“I’m… I’m fine,” I stammer.

Cam lifts the scalpel again and wipes the blood off the blade with the gauze.

My stomach turns.

Oh, dear God. I feel the blood drain from my head and the room starts to spin.

“Wait outside, Bridget,” Ben demands.

Cam screws up his face as he digs around the cut with force.

I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m… I’m… so not fine.

I hit the floor with a thud.

“Fuck,” Cameron snaps. “Keep still until I gauze you,” I hear Cameron’s foggy voice.

Next thing I know, I’m being lifted onto the lounge in the office by Ben’s strong arms.

“You okay?” he whispers softly as he wipes the hair from my forehead.

I nod and go to sit back up. “Oh, hell,” I whisper, embarrassed.