She wears black scrubs, her left chest decorated with the same yellow logo that the security officers wore. “Miss Owens, Miss Carver, it’s a pleasure to meet you both.” Her voice is delicate, yet authoritative when she speaks.
She hands us each a bag. “Here is your clothing that you will be wearing after your decontamination. You must not open the bag until after your wash. There is a silver drawer in each shower stall. You are to place every article of clothing currently on your body into the drawer. That includes undergarments, accessories, and shoes. They will be cleaned and returned to your dormitory for you later this evening.
“The wash is on a timed cycle. You will have seven minutes. Please use your time well. You need to be cleaned from head to toe. This includes hair and any makeup products that might be on your face. When you are completed, please use the exit door in the shower stall. I will meet you on the other side. Do either of you have any questions?”
We both shake our heads no. “Very well. Stalls one and two have been prepared for you.”
She gestures to a wall off to the side of the room. Zoë and I head over and each open a door. She gives me one last look before she steps inside hers, letting the door close behind her and leaving me alone in the locker room with Veronica. I take a deep breath and step inside my own stall.
The shower stall that I was expecting does not exist. The room I have stepped into is a large, fully tiled bathroom in varying shades of beige and brown. There is a dividing wall midway through the room. In one half of the room is the shower, with multiple jets on three walls and overhead. In the other half of the room there is a dressing area complete with plush white towels, a sink, a toilet and many small details that I cannot take in all at once.
As the door clicks shut, I turn to look at it. It has completely vanished into the tiles and blends seamlessly into the wall. There is no way to open the door and return to the locker room.
A small beep rings out. A green light flashes and a stainless steel rack slides out from the wall. The same robotic woman’s voice commands me, “please place sterile clothing satchel in bin.”
I set the bag of sterile clothing where I am instructed. I remove my clothing and pile everything up on the floor in front of the bench. I set the key to our room in the bin next to the sterile bag. The pendant and the twine bracelet stay exactly where they are.
Even though I am completely alone in the room, I feel incredibly exposed. I scoop all of my belongings up and look around the room for the bin I am supposed to place them in. A brushed chrome drawer catches my eye. When I approach it, I see the words, ‘contaminated materials’ etched in the metal. I slowly slide the drawer open and drop them in.
As I slide it closed, a shiver runs across my body. I feel as if I am being watched. I bend my arms and cover my chest with them, folding my hands under my chin as I scan the room for cameras.
I apprehensively walk over to the shower. To my delight, the tile floor is heated. When I step inside of the shower’s boundaries, a small, computerized keypad sparks to life. A rectangular button emblazoned with the word ‘START’ blinks and beeps incessantly. I hesitantly press it, bracing myself for whatever is about to happen.
Square shaped showerheads slowly emerge from all three of the walls at both chest and knee level. A larger one lowers from the ceiling. Small puffs of steam billow out of the squares, warming my skin and almost comforting me. The keypad beeps twice and a timer reading 7:00 lights up. Perfectly warm water rains down on me from above, soaking my hair.
The keypad beeps again. A small chrome tube pops out from the wall. It appears to be a soap dispenser. I place my hand underneath it and a delightfully scented shampoo fills my palm. Notes of lavender, citrus, and pine fill the air. I step slightly out of the way of the overhead shower and lather my hair, scrubbing my scalp a little more than usual. I rinse the suds out and