Never-NeverLand—Chapter 9
Donatello cleared his throat, "So Cabbage, how did you fit in with this nuero-wire project?"
Cabbage smiled sadly, "It was the first experimental surgery I ever designed and performed."
Donatello sat forward. "Are you telling me that your first surgery involved reconstruction of your sister's hands?!"
Cabbage pushed down hard on a knot in Leo's tricep, making him grunt. "No, I had performed numerous other surgeries. I'd also designed more than a dozen reconstruction procedures that other surgical teams used on their operating tables. Which is why I was the obvious candidate to plan and execute this particular surgery. It's the difference between planning or participating in something and actually being IN CHARGE of both aspects of it."
Leonardo looked down at Cabbage, "I thought you said you were ten or eleven years old?"
Cabbage looked to Shima and Pipes. "You guys ready to trade out?"
Shima nodded and vacated her position as storyteller. Sterling slid backward along the door and woke up when Cabbage pushed her upright again. "It's ok. Shima's just tired of talking. You can go back to sleep." Sterling nodded and leaned her shell against her sister, but her eyes stayed open.
Pipes clapped Leo on the shoulder, and leaned close speaking in a stage-whisper. +"Margo's been hitting the sauce again. I didn't want to have to tell you in front of the others. You have no idea what it's doing to Devon. He's making a fool of himself over Charlene. And all because of you, Todd."+
Leonardo traded confused glances with Raphael and Donatello.
Mike sat forward, "Todd?"
Cabbage rolled her eyes. "The first and only time they let her watch TV was during rehab. I don't think I've ever gotten her to explain half the things she quotes, but mostly, I blame the drugs."
Pipes moved over to Donatello, and looked over her shoulder. +"It's no good, can't you see?! How many times do I have to tell you? No, no, don't say anything. Just remember: when this nightmare is over, I'll still have Scott."+ She put her hand on Donnie's shell. +"All you'll have is a pocketful of memories and lint."+
Pipes bust up laughing at the sight of Leonardo's confused expression. Mike couldn't stop himself from joining in; Leo's face was priceless. Even Raphael chuckled quietly, 'So much for getting Leo to relax. She's got him wondering if she's gonna suddenly hit him with a fish or something.'
Donatello just wasn't sure he wanted a massage from this one. She was still laughing WAY too hard. "What's so funny?"
+"Leo!"+ Pipes waved vaguely at him. +"He looks like a stunned bunny!"+
Mikey lost it again.
Donnie rolled his eyes, but smiled hugely. He settled down comfortably in between Shima and Pipes, sighing happily when they started in on his shoulders.
Leonardo shrugged off the 'stunned bunny' comment and addressed Cabbage. "So how old were you? When you inserted nuero-wire into your sister's hands?"
Cabbage hugged her knees, "I was ten or eleven. I know that seems obscenely young, but then we were NOT children. We were mutants. Our educations were focused on our field of study. We didn't get a well-rounded education. There were no questions like 'what are you gonna be when you grow up?' There were no choices. We didn't go home at 3pm to watch TV. We didn't have P.E. or recess or after-school community sing-alongs."
"The humans wanted results, and we obeyed. They had me dissecting cadavers when I was seven. By that time, Shima spoke four or five different languages fluently. Sterling was studying for her Engineering Certification Exams."
"We worked. That's what mutants do."
"At the time, it didn't seem strange. I had been trained to perform surgeries and conduct laboratory experiments. It didn't matter to me that I was only eleven. I had never known what real eleven year olds did. I was not human. It didn't matter what human children did. For all I knew, I was at middle age already for a mutant turtle. I did what I was told, and planned the best possible augmentation for my sister and the nineteen others who underwent the same surgery."
"I practiced using mock-up wiring on various cadavers. I experimented with various resistances and physical support structures. I collaborated with Sterling to design the most mechanically sound model for support, strength, and flexibility. I researched contortionistic techniques and muscle adaptations. I ran tests on Pipes' skin's elasticity. I didn't want to install implants that would rip out her epidermal layers. I smuggled mineral supplements into her food for the months preceding the surgery, hoping that her bones would be strong enough to handle the stresses that the nuero-wires would put on them. Short of stress-testing, I had no way of knowing whether her bones would break. I smuggled cartilage implants into the operating room and replaced discs in her knuckles. Though it became evident that I couldn't replace half of them until I'd first broken the bones at the points were they had fused."
+"Yup. She took my hands apart, polished the parts, wired 'em together and lubed 'em down before she threw the whole thing back together!"+ Pipes yawned. +"Oooo-Ah! Excuse me."+ She leaned on Donatello's arm. +"She's a brilliant doctor. I was really lucky."+
Cabbage stared at her toes. "I put you through a lot of pain and danger. I'm lucky I didn't kill you."
Pipes was at her sister's side. +"Don't. Ok? It's eight years later, and I'm healthy. You're the only reason I can still use my hands at all, let alone with any degree of skill. Yes, it was terrible. I don't wanna do it again, but if I had to, I'd want you to do the honors."+
Pipes flexed her hands proudly. +"You rebuilt something that the humans didn't think was salvageable. I trained twice as hard when you were done and did things with only six fingers in music that humans can only aspire to do with ten. Sure, it's not natural, but then again…+" She chuckled quietly, +"Neither am I."+
Pipes smiled and playfully backhanded Cabbage's shoulder. +"Cheer up! We've still got those five questions that the guys have to answer truthfully, remember?"+
You can blame the stomach flu for my sudden spate of creative output. You can also blame the stomach flu if you think the whole nuero-wire thing is shite. Hell, blame the stomach-flu for global warming, euthanasia, the existence of dung beetles, and Pat Sajack. I already have. Please send me an email. I'm sick and lonely, hence the weird-ass chapter 8 thing. Review me, flame me, reconstruct my cat's skeletal structure using Lincoln Logs and Bubble Yum, whatever. sniffle, quease, quease, naus, naus. Thank you to the folks who've written things this week. I appreciate being able to read THE NEXT CHAPTER OF_________. Always a good time. J I really thought I needed to say something at the end of this chapter. I guess I did. --kyabetsu