Elysium Dreams

Ten

There were three of us in the autopsy room. Xavier, Dr. Ericson, and myself, we were all wearing respirators and vinyl suits to help with the overwhelming smell of Pine-Sol. I sat on a stool, just a few feet from the medical doctors. They were busy examining things. I was busy trying not to examine anything. I knew the moment would come when Xavier called my name and I would have to get up and go look at something horrifying, but I'd delay that moment as long as possible. In the meantime, I just listened to Xavier talk into his recorder.

He was busy describing the body. There were only a few ways to say that the victim didn't have any skin left, but Xavier managed to turn this into a ten minute sentence. He might not be meticulous in appearance, but almost nothing missed his attention when he was with a body.

Dr. Ericson was closer to the body. Almost at Xavier's elbow to be honest, but, like me, he was silent. He was more interested in watching what Xavier was doing than I was. My face was starting to sweat beneath the mask.

"Eureka!" Xavier said. It sounded muffled and strange through the respirators. If there hadn't been another person in the room with us, I would have made a sarcastic comment.

"What?" I asked instead, standing up and walking to the body.

Xavier looked at me. He was wearing goggles that made him look like a goldfish and, with the respirator, the picture he made was completely comical.

"Look at this," Xavier was pulling apart two pieces on the arm of our victim. I saw nothing.

"Ok," I said. He let go of the arm and then did it again. "Don't you see it?" He asked.

"No, but I do not have bug eyes either," I pointed out to him. Dr. Ericson gave me a look. Most coroners have to have a sense of humor. In our line of work, it isn't just a necessity, it's a life preserver. Without it, we would all go insane and most likely be locked up or practicing vigilantes.

Dr. Ericson seemed to be the exception. He was frowning at me.

"Sorry," I said to him quietly.

"I understand," Dr. Ericson dismissed it. "Most of my colleagues develop it as well."

"There is a tiny puncture mark on her arm," Xavier interrupted.

"And that means?" I asked.

"That means I think we know how they are subdued," Xavier told me. "Nothing seems to be showing up on the toxicology screens, so I don't know what he's using."

"It seems unlikely that in the few hours they are in his care that a sedative would leave the system," I said.

"True," Xavier took off the goggles. "Maybe she got a shot for something else."

"Shingles, flu, pneumonia," Dr. Ericson offered.

"She's a teacher," I added. "It could be anything, even a tetanus shot."

"Damn, so much for the 'eureka,'" Xavier sighed. "This body doesn't seem any more remarkable than the others."

"Not remarkable? It has no skin," Dr. Ericson pointed out.

"That's not what I meant. I meant that the body doesn't seem to give up any more clues than the others," Xavier corrected his wording.

"Let's get outside, get some fresh air," I suggested.

"You just want a cigarette," Xavier looked at me.

"Come on," I yanked on his arm and dragged him out into the hall. There we stripped off the vinyl protective suits and the respirators. Sweat showed on the foreheads of the two men. I was sure my forehead would look the same. I shoved the vinyl suit into a closet and then wiped my brow.