The man opening the door for him was a complete stranger.
As they entered, the man pressed a button on his small, handheld ticket machine. Looking down at the number, the newcomer couldn’t help wondering what it meant. Something told him that his destiny was in some way linked to the number. Without speaking, the door attendant pointed down a long, narrow hallway. He only nodded and pointed again at the newcomer’s questioning frown. Although not well lit, he could see that the passage was very long; in fact, he wasn’t able to make out its end. Still in a daze from the impact and the ear-piercing sounds of the crash, he began to walk forward. He knew this was what he was supposed to do; he just didn’t know why. In truth, he had no proper understanding about any of it. After just a few paces, he found a door on the right. It had an illuminated number on it, but it was not the one on his ticket. He looked back, but the attendant had gone.
Pausing to gaze down the passage, his eyes now adjusting, he could make out a series of glowing numbers on either side, in a staggered formation. Moving on, he found the next door on the left was also lit with a number, but not the one he held. Walking much faster now, he worked his way along for several minutes, checking numbers. Then, with a strange sense of unexpected relief, he finally came to his appointed door. Before entering, he stood for some time trying to remember exactly what it was that brought him here. It was all a blur. There was a great deal that he didn’t know.
He opened the door and walked in…
Everything before had gone. In that moment everything changed. He had changed. Now, small, naked and emerging, he would never have cause to wonder how the usual missing nine-month period had been skipped, or how the timing of it could have possibly been managed.
He would never remember what had gone before, nor would he remember the squeals that he makes.
Sounds both normal and familiar, that now echo through the maternity ward.
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