The Institute - Stephen King Page 0,74

Avery, and three to each of the Wilcox twins. Enough for snacks, not enough for any of the other stuff. All he wanted for himself at the present moment was a big load of protein and carbs. He didn’t care what was on tonight’s menu for supper as long as there was a lot of it.

21

The next morning Joe and Hadad took him back down to C-Level, where he was told to drink a barium solution. Tony stood by with his zap-stick, ready to administer a jolt if Luke voiced any disagreement. Once he’d drained every drop, he was led to a cubicle the size of a bathroom stall in a turnpike rest area and X-rayed. That part went all right, but as he left the cubicle, he cramped up and doubled over.

“Don’t you hurl on this floor,” Tony said. “If you’re going to do it, use the sink in the corner.”

Too late. Luke’s half-digested breakfast came up in a barium puree.

“Ah, shit. You are now going to mop that up, and when you’re done, I want the floor to be so clean I can eat off it.”

“I’ll do it,” Hadad said.

“The fuck you will.” Tony didn’t look at him or raise his voice, but Hadad flinched just the same. “You can get the mop and the bucket. The rest is Luke’s job.”

Hadad got the cleaning stuff. Luke managed to fill the bucket at the sink in the corner of the room, but he was still having stomach cramps, and his arms were trembling too badly to lower it again without spilling the soapy water everywhere. Joe did that for him, whispering “Hang in there, kid” into Luke’s ear.

“Just give him the mop,” Tony said, and Luke understood—in the new way he had of understanding things—that old Tones was enjoying himself.

Luke swabbed and rinsed. Tony surveyed his work, pronounced it unacceptable, and told him to do it again. The cramps had let up, and this time he was able to lift and lower the bucket by himself. Hadad and Joe were sitting down and discussing the chances of the Yankees and the San Diego Padres, apparently their teams of choice. On the way back to the elevator, Hadad clapped him on the back and said, “You done good, Luke. Got some tokens for him, Joey? I’m all out.”

Joe gave him four.

“What are these tests for?” Luke asked.

“Plenty of things,” Hadad said. “Don’t worry about it.”

Which was, Luke thought, perhaps the stupidest piece of advice he’d ever been given. “Am I ever getting out of here?”

“Absolutely,” Joe said. “You won’t remember a thing about it, though.”

He was lying. Again, it wasn’t mind-reading, at least as Luke had always imagined it—hearing words in his mind (or seeing them, like on the crawl at the bottom of a cable news broadcast); it was just knowing, as undeniable as gravity or the irrationality of the square root of two.

“How many more tests will there be?”

“Oh, we’ll keep you busy,” Joe said.

“Just don’t puke on a floor Tony Fizzale has to walk on,” Hadad said, and laughed heartily.

22

A new housekeeper was vacuuming the floor of his room when Luke arrived. This woman—JOLENE, according to her nametag—was plump and in her twenties.

“Where’s Maureen?” Luke asked, although he knew perfectly well. This was Maureen’s off week, and when she came back, it might not be to his part of the Institute, at least not for awhile. He hoped she was in Vermont, getting her runaway husband’s crap sorted out, but he would miss her . . . although he supposed he might see her in Back Half when it was his turn to go there.

“Mo-Mo’s off making a movie with Johnny Depp,” Jolene said. “One of those pirate things all the kids like. She’s playing the Jolly Roger.” She laughed, then said, “Why don’t you get out of here while I finish up?”

“Because I want to lie down. I don’t feel good.”

“Oh, wah-wah-wah,” Jolene said. “You kids are spoiled rotten. Have someone to clean your room, cook your meals, you got your own TV . . . you think I had a TV in my room when I was a kid? Or my own bathroom? I had three sisters and two brothers and we all fought over it.”

“We also get to swallow barium and then puke it up. You think you’d like to try some?”

I sound more like Nicky every day, Luke thought, and hey, what’s wrong with that? It’s good to have positive role models.

Jolene turned

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