But maybe not all is lost.
As I rub this pill between my finger and thumb, I suspect it has a coating on it, so I pick up a different pill. I try the same technique, grinding it against the floor, and I can tell I have a chance to succeed here. Finally, it gives way under the pressure, but it doesn’t turn into a fine dust like I’d hoped. Instead, I can feel hard bits under my fingers. I try crushing the smaller pieces but it seems futile, so get them as small as I can and then fan my hand back and forth over the area, hoping to spread it around so it’s not obvious.
I’m thinking this isn’t going to work, but I’m not quite ready to give up yet.
Feeling around, I identify the capsule and pick it up. It takes a bit, but I manage to pry the two sides apart. This one might be easier than the pills after all. I pour out its contents onto the floor, but I touch what should be a pile of fine powder to instead discover dozens of microbeads.
Oh, no.
If I spread these all over my room, they might be easy to detect. In the dark, I can’t tell what color they are. If they’re reddish like the outside of the capsule or some other bright color, they might be easy to identify against the tile.
But it’s not like I can get them back in the capsule.
Now I’m outright panicking, something I’ve assured myself I don’t do, but I force myself to take a few deep breaths, trying to think rationally. After all, I have all night if I need to, but I’ve already declared this experiment a complete disaster. First, I pick up the remaining pills I will not be trying to destroy, sliding them under my pillow. Then, I try to make sure I have the capsule and its contents in one neat pile. I pinch some beads between my finger and thumb and then slide across the floor until I catch some of the light spilling in from the window—but it’s not bright enough for me to really be able to tell the color.
There’s also light coming in from the hallway—through the window and underneath the door. It’s risky, I know, but I don’t know what else to do. Carefully, I get up on my feet and I walk slowly toward the door. I consider moving up against the wall, but there’s some light hitting it from outside. When I get close to the door, I see someone walking the hall, so I duck, getting down on the floor quickly. I place my cheek against the floor, trying to see underneath the door, but the gap isn’t big enough to see far, even when I get close. Because I don’t see a shadow, I hope whoever was out there doesn’t suspect a thing, and that’s why they’re not looking through the window.
But maybe there’s enough light here that I can examine the capsule beads. I hold out the palm of my left hand but I already know by looking that I won’t be able to see anything down here.
I’m going to have to stand up.
Slowly, I do, but I make sure I’m to the side of the window. My heart is beating hard enough in my chest that I can feel it, and I’m holding my breath. Once I’m fully upright, I look through the window to the right side where I can see—and just down the hall, I catch the back of someone, probably the person who just passed a bit ago.
Now’s my chance.
I open my palm again in the light coming through the window and unpinch my fingers to release the beads. They appear to be a mix of white and burgundy beads, meaning they might be really easy to spot.
But I’m not ready to give up yet.
Just as I start to lower my hand, I see a female tech marching up the hallway toward my door.
Shit. I’ve been caught.
9
I’m not even going to run to my bed. What’s the use? But I put down my hand and back away from the door, my mind racing as I try to come up with some excuse.
They’ll know, though. All it’ll take will be one look at my bed and the floor next to it.
I close my eyes and clench my jaw, waiting to hear the sound of the door unlocking.
But it never happens.
Opening my eyes, I allow myself to take a deep breath, and then I hear voices in the hallway. Cautiously, I inch forward and peek to the right. The tech who’d been rushing past my door was trying to get the guard’s attention and, in fact, he’s walked back this way to meet her. She wasn’t hurrying toward my door like I’d thought.
From here, the tech and guard seem to be flirting.
I can’t make out words until she playfully slaps him on the arm and then walks this way again. I’m in the shadows now, so I hope she can’t see me, but as she gets closer to my room, I can tell she’s not paying that kind of attention anyway. “See ya later, Marco!” she says, turning her head before bouncing past my room.
Again, I let out a long, slow breath of air, knowing I just got extremely lucky.
So back to the microbeads. I can’t just scatter them like I wanted. I could scatter them under my bed, but I’m sure a thorough cleaning would find them easily.
Oh, but I also think the baseboard around my room is a darker color. Maybe I could get away with pushing the beads up against it, especially under my bed, and then pray the sweeping isn’t as thorough as it could be.
But I need to make sure the baseboard is dark before I even try.
I get down on my hands and knees next to the door to examine it. Finally, something tonight has gone my way. It’s dark, all right, but I discover something else that might save me: it’s not wood. Instead, it’s rubbery. I start to move my fingers along the top of it to see if I can pry it away from the wall, but it’s stuck on there pretty well. I continue following it along the length of the floor, and it’s not going to budge, which makes me suspect I’m back to square one.
But when I get to the exterior wall, I discover the rubber baseboard there is a bit loose. That’s all I need. I turn and begin feeling carefully with my fingers around the area where I think the capsule contents are and I eventually find them. First, I pick up the outer shell and place it near my pillow and then I try to pick up every stupid little bead I can get my fingers on. It begins to feel painstaking, but then I realize it’s just as easy to pick them up by pressing the pad of my finger into them and then sliding the finger on the opposite palm. Soon, I have most of them if not all in my hand, and then I slide on my knees toward the loose baseboard.
This is the easy part.
I hold my palm up close to the wall and carefully brush the beads off with the opposite index finger. Then I feel along the inside of the baseboard. Unlike the other section, this part has lost most of its stickiness, but I still think it will do the trick. I press it back against the wall and then let out another long breath of air.
Crawling over toward my bed, I brush all around the area where I’d been sitting, just in case there’s any leftover evidence I’m unable to see in the dark. Then I feel up on my bed. It takes some time, but I finally find the two sides of the capsule, and I cram one end into the other before sliding it under the pillow with the other pills.
That means there is no easy way to dispose of the medicine. I’m back to flushing unless or until I can figure something else out.
But at least tonight sleep comes easily.
*
This morning, Rose has reappeared like a ray of sunshine. I give her half a smile as I feel under my pillow for the pills and then, as I sit up, I pretend to be stretching when, really, I’m looking for evidence of my activity last night. When I see a few beads that look like boulders to my eyes against the pale tiles, I place my foot on them. “How did you sleep, Anna?”