Coin Locker Babies Read Free

dimmed while a variety of images played across the screen: waves lapping on a South Pacific beach; skiers negotiating new powder snow; a herd of giraffes running in slow motion against a sunset; a white sailboat cresting the waves; thousands of tropical fish skimming along a coral reef; birds and gliders, ballerinas and trapeze artists. The images changed only very gradually, in the tiniest of increments—the size of the waves, the intensity of the setting sun, the color of the reef, the speed of the yacht, the scenery on the stage. By the time the changes became imperceptible and consciousness had begun to fade, the room had grown completely dark. As for the sound, it had been playing from the time the boys entered the place at an almost inaudible volume, but as the room grew dark and the images slowed, it gradually increased to a crescendo just as they fell asleep. Somewhere between fifty and eighty minutes later the boys would wake up from their nap, but the tape loop would still be showing the same images so they would have no sense that time had passed. To add to the illusion, the treatment was scheduled from 10:30 A . M . to noon, the time of day when the change in the angle of the sun is least noticeable. There were even ways to compensate for days when the weather didn’t cooperate with the illusion; for example, when it was clear in the morning but started to rain while the boys were inside, the sound of rain could be added to the audio in the room several minutes before they regained consciousness, and the lighting was adjusted to resemble a rainy day. Throughout all this, however, Kiku and Hashi were not told that they were being treated at all; they thought they were just going to the hospital to see a movie, and a movie is what they saw.
    Within a week, results were apparent. As the sessionsprogressed and the boys got used to the treatment room, the nuns were no longer needed as chaperones. In a month’s time, the psychiatrist was using hypnotism in place of the sleeping drug and exploring the changes in the boys’ subconscious brought on by the “rechanneling” of their special energy.
    “What do you see when you hear that noise?” he asked.
    “The sea,” they answered together.
    Kiku would describe the image flashing on the inside of his eyeballs: his own small body being held up to heaven by the bearded Christ standing on a cliff overlooking the ocean. He was wrapped in something soft, and a cool breeze was blowing. The sea was calm and sparkling. The treatment continued for about three months, at which point the psychiatrist called in the nuns again.
    “The therapy is nearly finished. The important thing now is to avoid giving the boys any idea how much they’ve changed. Above all, you mustn’t tell them about the heartbeat or anything else we’ve been doing here.”
    Kiku and Hashi, waiting in the corridor, stared out the window at the golden glow of the sky and, below, a line of deep green ginkgo trees trembling in the wind. As the elevator doors opened, they turned to look at an old man, his chest bandaged and a tube extending from one nostril, who was being wheeled into the hall. A young girl carrying a large bunch of lilies was talking to the nurse pushing him along. Kiku and Hashi went up closer to him. His veins were visible under the transparent skin, while his lips were moist and red. His ankles were strapped to the trolley with leather belts, and tiny spots of blood oozed from around the needles of the tubes attached to both arms. The old man opened his eyes and, seeing the boys peering down at him, twisted the corners of his mouth into a smile. At that moment, the nunsemerged from the room directly in front of them repeating the doctor’s last words:
    “They don’t realize that they’ve changed; they think it’s the world that changed.”

2
    An adoption was finally arranged for Kiku and Hashi during the summer before they were to begin school. The nuns persuaded a couple who had