Steiner and the Hypnotic Cue

CHAPTER 23 Face Off

David went ‘radge’ after I disclosed my ‘flash of genius’. I was a bit disappointed, because I had spent ages gazing out of my room window, looking dreamily at the lights of Jerusalem in the distance, creating an irrefutable argument in my mind. 

“Don’t be insane … It will take weeks for your face to heal. What about your passport? Will they let you leave the country? Do you ever think about anything?” he shouted.

He had a point there. Don’t think I hadn’t thought about it. There was a problem with my passport anyway. It was three years old and every airport questioned me. I had changed quite a bit. When challenged again, I was just going to argue the toss with them.

“I’m wanting to get out of here tomorrow, if we can get a flight,” he continued.

“Well, you go then! I’m staying. I’m going to get it done.”

“Don’t waste your money on this rubbish. Haven’t I always told you:

“A fool and his money

are soon parted.”

“Aye, but that didn’t stop you spending thousands getting all your teeth capped when we were in Bulgaria, did it?”

I had my stubborn head on. He had seen this before and knew there was no reasoning with me. But he tried for about a hour, before giving up.

“I can’t  leave you here, Steiner … you’re only 16. I promised Scott and your family. You’re not safe in a city like this, alone.”

Two days later, I was lying in a hospital bed, my face covered in bandages and my wallet a few thousand pounds lighter.

The clinic was only too happy to take it from me. They  just asked a few scant questions about allergies; showed me some reconstructions on a computer and booked me in.

Three weeks later, I was healed enough to leave the country.

In the meantime, David had become Mr. tourist and had travelled everywhere—to that place they made the Indiana Jones film, to the Roman ruins at Jerash, to Moses burial place, to that place where they filmed the Hurt Locker and even to the valley where they made Lawrence of Arabia.

Meanwhile I had to hang around my hotel room getting bored stupid—the TV wasn’t too bad, but I’m not the sort of person to just watch telly all day.

Time passed slowly. I wished I was back in school—honestly, it was that bad.

With the bandages off and the swelling down, I looked a bit different, but not too much. I just hoped that when I was back in Scotland people in the street would not recognise me easily. How could I go back when everyone would be expecting me to be a star?

I couldn’t face people.

Remember my motto?

‘Embarrassment is a villain to be crushed.’ 

I also decided to dye my hair and make it a little blonder.

That was embarrassing.

Loads of boys at school had done it, though,  and the Woodwork Teacher spent a fortune on dye to look younger; so, although this was not my style, I talked myself into it.