The Waiting Room

“So, you’re Mr. Kincade?” asked Maxwell.

“I am, but you can call me Erik,” said a skinny wheelchair-bound man. Kincade waved over a nurse, who stooped down to whisper something in his ear. He nodded several times, and Maxwell saw Kincade shot an unpleasant glance in Maxwell’s direction. A few more words passed between Kincade and the nurse, and then middle-aged woman disappeared through a door.

There was a long silence between the two men, alone in the waiting room. Both of them were wearing thin surgical gowns. Even with the baggy clothing, it was clear that Maxwell had a strong, well-tuned body. He was tall, had a chiselled jaw, and short-trimmed amber hair. Kincade’s body was decrepit -- bony and slouching, with deep pouches of skin beneath both eyes. He barely had any hair left. The two men could have been entirely different species.

Maxwell glared at Kincade, daring him to return the eye contact. Kincade looked displeased. Eventually, he stole a glance in Maxwell’s direction.

“It appears,” said Kincade, “that there is some delay.”

“I know,” said Maxwell. “My name’s Max, by the way. Not that it matters much.”

Maxwell stood, walked over, and extended a hand to Kincade. The old man looked up, narrowed his eyes. After a moment, he reached out a shivering hand and shook Maxwell’s.

“Thanks for that. Really, I mean it,” said Maxwell. He returned to his seat. “You know, I always wondered who they’d matched me with. I hoped it wasn’t some rockstar or asshole politician. Of course, I can’t sing, so I don’t know why I thought rockstar.”

Kincade nodded politely. He opened his mouth to speak a few times before finally muttering, “You’re nervous, I’m guessing.”

Maxwell shook his head.

“Not really, no. I’m just-- y’know-- taking it all in. We’re delayed, and I’m just trying to enjoy a little conversation before they put us under.”

“I take it you opted not to be transferred, then? Brave man,” Kincade smiled, but Maxwell saw something more lustful than admiring in that smile.

“Yep,” Maxwell said, “no offense. I just don’t know how long I could make it like… well, like that. Besides, if you sign the DNR, the transfer funds go to your family and whatnot.”

“Ah, I see. And, by the way, no offense taken. We wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t ready to toss this old thing aside.”

Kincade’s voice caught, and he started into a fit of coughing.

“So, have you done this before?” asked Maxwell.

“Nope,” said Kincade, “this is my first.”

“Are you nervous, then?”

“A little. I’ve done far more dangerous things in my life, though. And if something goes wrong, I suppose I’ve used my time as best I could have. No regrets, so they say.”

“Right. I’ve got a few of those,” said Maxwell. “Too many stupid things I did when I was a kid. Heh, I guess I still am a kid to you, right? Anyway, I’m hoping this will make up for some of the mistakes I made.”

Kincade nodded. His eyes trailed off, and he didn’t say anything.

“I’ve got a kid, just so you know,” said Maxwell. “My girlfriend and I, we’ve got a little girl. I wish I could see them both. It’s been more than a year since they left. But I’m giving little Sadie all the money from this operation. So, I just thought you might like to know-- y’know?-- that your money’s all going to a good cause.”

Kincade nodded again. It seemed to be the only thing he knew how to do. Maxwell wondered how many awkward situations the older man had ever had to sit through.

“What’s the first thing you’re gonna do?” asked Maxwell. “When you’re rocking all of this?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

“That’s a lot of bull.”

Kincade looked startled.

“I mean, I respect that you’re being polite and all, but my respect ain’t worth shit, and it means less and less every minute we’re here waiting. But don’t tell me you haven’t been thinking about it. You wouldn’t have paid so much if you didn’t know exactly what you want to do as soon as you step out of here. Or, if you really don’t know, and you haven’t thought about it, well then you don’t deserve a scrap of the respect I had for you.”

“Yes…” said Kincade, after a moment of recollecting himself. “I suppose I do know what I want to do. The first thing I’m going to do is walk into the first fast food restaurant I see, and order the largest, greasiest thing on the menu.”

Kincade smiled, and Maxwell laughed.

“Yes!” said Maxwell, “That’s more like it Mr. Kincade. I knew you were a smart man.”

“It’s been thirty years since I was able to eat that kind of slop without supplements. I don’t even remember what it tastes like.”

“Well, I don’t blame you,” said Maxwell. “It’s a cruel world when we can’t enjoy the simple pleasures of life. Tell you what, there is a ma and pa sandwich joint on 3rd and Taswell, and they make the best damned cheesesteak sandwiches you ever tasted.”

Kincade stared off into the middle-distance again, and he frowned. His mouth started to move again, and eventually he managed to say, “I always wanted to make the world a better place. This time, I’ll do better.”

Maxwell tilted his head and sighed. “You better. For both our sakes.”

The door swung open, and the nurse returned.

“Mr. Kincade, we’re ready for you now.”

Kincade nodded, and the woman pushed his wheelchair into the next room. A moment later, the nurse returned and motioned Maxwell inside.

Maxwell took a deep breath. He looked around at the sterile room, pale in the fluorescent light.

“Goodbye, lousy-ass office,” he said. Maxwell stepped through the door.

Hours passed. Finally, a young man with amber hair emerged, smiling. Kincade examined his new hands, his new arms, his new everything. It was like a fresh start.

A nurse wheeled away the lifeless corpse that had been Erik Kincade, and was now nobody.

Kincade had to sign some papers, and then he was free to go. As he stepped into the world, a new man, he tried to remember the name of the man whose body he’d bought. It wasn’t coming to mind, and Kincade let it go. It didn’t matter.

All that mattered was the rumble in his stomach and the smell of food in the air.