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MACAIREKELSEY’S SECRETI have no recollection of the accident. Not even one of those fragmented pieces of memorythat surges suddenly out of a half-sleep. No bits or glimpses of the tumbling sky or the shinyasphalt.My three children were at home with their baby sitter and I was on my way to the city tosee a play. I was going to meet my husband at his office. All that I can remember clearly. Then,mysteriously, darkness falls over my mind and the next thing I know I’m staring at an openwindow.My first reaction is annoyance. It’s January and the window shouldn’t be open. Who left itopen? I want to tell somebody to shut it, not to waste heat, but I am incapable of speech.Then I realize that sun is pouring into the room and everything is bathed in its milky light.The breeze accompanying it is balmy and scented with spring. Confused, I look around. Aslender woman is sitting in a chair next to the window, reading a red book. She’s dressed innavy blue, and is about thirty I’d say. Younger than I. Her hair is scraped back in a tight bun.It’s a soft yellow. She dabs at her red-rimmed eyes, and her hands on the book tremble slightlyas she turns the pages. Otherwise she’s perfectly still.My eyes are the only things that work. I try to open my mouth to speak, I cannot. Myfingers don’t even wiggle. It’s as if I’m not part of this body lying so lightly on the neat bed.And yet I can feel the slight weight of the sheet against my legs and the pink woolen blanket isitchy under my fingers. I can feel myself breathing.There are no machines around me to suggest I’m in a hospital, but I know that’s where Iam. The white walls, stark and bare, are proof enough. There’s a television set in the corner of the room, and the woman is sitting on a folding metal chair. She turns another page and dabs ather eyes with the tips of her fingers.1

MACAIREWho is she? I make a huge effort to raise my hand, and a sharp pain, like a tiny needle,chases itself around my skull. It’s no use. I can’t move. Something is holding me pressed to the pillow. By shifting my eyes I can just barely make out the arm of some huge, steel contraptionhovering over my head. It seems to be behind the bed. Suddenly I’m terribly frightened. I don’tremember the accident, but I remember my husband and my children. Someone must tell themnot to wait for me. I picture my husband pacing in his office, and the children lookinganxiously at the clock.My panic grows, my heart starts to race and I’m drenched in cold sweat. Blood is pounding in my ears. The room darkens, tips, and I slide into unconsciousness once again.This time my dreams are troubled. Voices I don’t recognize are all around me. Someonekeeps repeating "Kelsey! Kelsey!".Who’s Kelsey? In my dream I’m sitting in a pink room. It looks like a little girl’s room.There are posters of ballet dancers on the wall and stuffed animals on the bed. A bowl of goldfish is perched on a white dresser. I can walk around, and I slowly drift from one thing toanother, touching the stuffed animals, peering at the goldfish. I even dip my finger in the water,it’s tepid. I examine the posters on the wall. I pick up a doll and smooth her hair. I remember my daughter, only three, and I hug the doll tightly and feel tears sliding down my cheeks. Mychest tightens. The room starts to vanish, but just before the scene fades completely away I seea little girl sitting on the bed. Had she been there all along? I didn’t notice her before. Shelooks at me. Her face is heart-shaped and grave. Blond hair falls straight to her shoulders.She’s terribly thin and pale. Her eyes, a deep, steely blue, hold mine. Then she slowly raises her finger to her lips. "Shhh," she says. "Keep the secret."

"Kelsey! Kelsey!"

I opened my eyes.I did it consciously. My eyes opened, and I saw a doctor bending over me. He was neither young nor old. He was Asian, and had gold-rimmed glasses. Behind him stood a rather stoutnurse. And right behind her was the woman I saw reading. She’s the one calling Kelsey. Shewas looking straight at me and her hands flew up to her mouth."Kelsey! Kelsey, can you hear me?"I don’t know who Kelsey is. My name is Vivian. But I heard her. "Yes," I whispered.The doctor smiled. The nurse took a startled step backwards. The woman gave a joyful cryand swooped down upon me. I realized that there was nothing pinning me to the pillowanymore. I was free. Only a whisper of pain remained. Tentatively I reached my hand up to myhead. A bandage swathed it.2

MACAIRE"Please," I said. "What happened? Where am I?" My voice was raw and broken. Forcing itout of my throat hurt."Kelsey..." For some reason the doctor was calling me Kelsey too. "You’re in the hospitalSt. Anne in Nanterre. The operation was a success. We’ve managed to take out the part of your brain that was sick and replace it with a well part. Can you understand what I’m saying?Your cancer has been cured my dear."I nodded. The words were clear enough, but the meaning was obscure. "I had a braintumor?" I asked weakly.The doctor beamed and nodded. The slender woman was still holding my hand and smiling broadly. The nurse watched me strangely. Like a cat watches a viper I remember thinking."Kelsey darling, you’re going to get better now. Soon we’ll take you home." The womanleaned over and kissed me. I was perplexed."Who is Kelsey?" I asked.The woman gasped and jerked backwards. She looked at the doctor, her mouth openedsoundlessly."You are," he said gently."No I’m not," I said firmly. "There must be a mistake.""The mirror," said the nurse. "Show her the mirror, it will all come back." Those were her first words. I didn’t like her voice. It was hard and grated in my head.Silver flashed as the doctor picked up a hand mirror from the table next to him and held itup in front of my face.Dark blue eyes stared back at me. Dark blue eyes in a heart-shaped, pale face. A white bandage hid the hair. But whosoever hair it hid it wasn’t mine. The eyes were not mine, nor was the face. "I don’t understand," I said weakly. "Who is that?""Don’t you recognize your face Kelsey?" asked the doctor. His voice held the slightesttrace of worry.I started to shake. It was uncontrollable. My body was seized with an argue that blurredmy vision and clattered my teeth together. "I’m n-not K-Kelsey," I managed to stutter. "Please,w-what’s hap-pening?"The slender woman started to speak, but the doctor put his hand on her arm. "Leave mealone with your daughter," he said.The nurse took the woman from the room and shut the door. The doctor waited a fewminutes. We stared at each other in silence. Questions tumbled and jostled in my head, tanglingup and making coherent speech impossible. The doctor seemed to understand this. He pulledup a chair and sat by my bed.3

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Kelsey's Secret

sci-fi novella about a woman who wakes up in another person't body.

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Category:	Creative Writing > Short Stories
Rating:	(2 Ratings)
Upload Date:	01/17/2008
Copyright:	Attribution Non-commercial
Tags:	fiction science Literature-Short-Stories fiction science Literature-Short-Stories (fewer)