Chapter 1

Medical research can sometimes be compared to flying a commercial aircraft... many hours of boredom punctuated by moments of frazzling activity... such as when the weather closes in... or in the lab when many weeks of testing conclude and there is hurried need to statistically analyze and evaluate. Most times I wait, reviewing interim reports which need to be monitored for gross malfunction, experiments going bad. But otherwise letting the passage of time bring results.

So the boredom often brings thoughts of Sunny Sudenskaya and her proposal. Short hair, boyish good looks, appropriately attired she could pass for an altar boy. Yet I recall the shoulder movement, intended to project those glands and attract, which they did. She is alluring, a temptress. And in knowing my ‘hobby’ she tempts most seductively. The deep guttural voice, accented, is provocative on a dark haired girl of some one hundred pounds. She is not to be forgotten.

In my field of medical devices, I have access to a sophisticated metal working shop. We make artificial joints... mainly knees and hips. We even do knuckles. Each of those is custom made... the high expense reserved for the occasional professional who too early in life has lost the use of a finger through arthritis or injury.

So making implements for Sunny’s desired arroycoo is easy. I am known to work late in the lab. And the scrap pile of nickel cobalt yields dozens of small bits which will not be missed. Shaping such to my needs and polishing to fine smoothness takes time, but as I picture such adorning the lithe form of Sunny, the time goes quickly. The alloy is readily accepted by the human body. And is strong.

Research on the internet brings some ideas. Gadgets for introducing grommets to clothing, leather and canvas attract my attention. With a master’s degree in mechanical engineering, it appears to me that one such apparatus, used in sail making, can be purchased and modified. Sunny’s flesh will more easily yield than the coarse and rugged textiles used on large yachts. But I have plans for the temptress which will take her far beyond her current limits and what she envisions.

In nearing readiness, I call a plumbing supply store. Having sketched what I need, I list the number of feet of pipe along with numerous fittings. It is an easy matter to fax the order and have all delivered to Sunny’s loft.

***

Weeks later we meet again. Same restaurant near me. Same time, late afternoon. The maitre d’ glances at Sunny with concern. She offers no concession that she will not light up again. Always challenging.

“Some men arrived. Brought in lots of metal,” Sunny exclaims as we are shown to a table. “Am I expecting a plumbing problem?”

A girlish giggle disguises a tinge of concern. My planned frame is now just a pile of pipes that Sunny obviously cannot mentally transform to usefulness.

“You will see in time,” I vaguely reply.

We sit. She brazenly orders wine, knowing she is not old enough to drink. Knowing once again to challenge the rules. I am going to have fun taming her.

I come to the point as our drink order is completed and the waiter leaves us alone.

“Before we begin, taking you down a road from which you will not return, I want to show you this.”

I retrieve from my jacket pocket what appears to be a staple gun. Modified after many hours of toil I load it with a finely crafted lump of nickel cobalt and thread my napkin between two jutting prongs. With a forceful press there comes a click, a notable snap and the prongs pinch the cloth.

“Presto.”

I toss the napkin to Sunny. Embedded in the corner is a newly made small hole bordered by a circle of metal of one centimeter.

“In one motion it penetrates, pushes aside the cloth to widen the opening and rolls the bordering metal to seal with permanency. A grommet... but penetrating quite formidably.”

An amazed Sunny toys with her fingers. The dull metal is securely attached.

“I’d show you again but the nickel cobalt is rather expensive.”

“The metal is hard, yes?” her excitement exposing her normally cloaked accent.

“Extremely,” I advise as her fingers toy, amazed with the smoothness of the finished opening.

While she busies herself I find a clasp in my pocket, reach forth and clip it through the hole. With zeal, Sunny reaches to grasp the clasp and dangles the napkin over the table. She giggles.

“This can be... me?” she utters in a combination of apprehension and odd joy.

The waiter approaches and the napkin is lowered, even Sunny having some sense of decorum. We are silent as the drinks are poured. Chardonnay for her. A cold brew for me.

“Yes, it will be you. Consider carefully. I have made many grommets... and of various sizes.”

Sunny’s eyes glaze over, obviously fantasizing some sadomasochistic scene. Her hand goes to the napkin to inspect again, pulling the clasp to ensure permanency. She seems to shiver as the well embedded grommet withstands her testing stress. My hand goes to her wine.

“You’re not twenty one,” I admonish. “You’re going to learn to be a good girl.”

She lugubriously pouts as I slide away her glass.

***