The Turtle Woman

Niall came back like promised after he had released his human cargo in Dublin. Lux turned the yellow on again, I became all alert and nervous. I sensed that something decisive was at hand. „Can I talk to you alone for a minute?“ Niall asked me soon after the exchange of greetings. „Why? Anna and I have no secrets.“ „Emily, I’m going down to the lounge,“ Anna cut in, „I think you should talk to him on your own. You’re a big girl. I’ll be within calling distance and can fend off François in case he wants to bring you another cup of tea or massage your feet again.“ So Niall and I faced each other, sitting on the two upholstered chairs with the tiny round table inbetween. „Emily, tell me what’s really wrong with you!“ I went stiff: „What do you mean? I was exhausted like I told you and coming down with the flu.“ „I don’t believe one word!“ „What do you care? How dare you put the screws on me? You’re overstepping!“ „I know, but I’m doing it for a reason. I have a feeling I know what your real problem is and that I can help.“ I grabbed the handles of my chair, trying to push myself up to go to the door and call for Anna. Panic seized me. Lux flew in front of my face, blinding me with the strongest light he had to offer, and my knees went weak. I fell back into the chair. „Please, Emily, I mean no harm. Hear me out! Let me show you something, maybe then you’ll understand.“ Niall stood up and opened his shirt. On the left side of his naked breast, half hidden under the dark fur of his chest hair, was a huge, horseshoe-shaped scar, ragged and with red welts. Niall spoke slowly and in a low voice: „I had a shell on my breast for many years. It’s gone, I was able to get rid of it. It is possible to get rid of a thing like this!“ He closed the buttons of his shirt and sat down again. All my defenses broke down, I put my hand to my mouth and bit the knuckle of my index finger, incredulous and shaking at what I had just seen and heard. Niall watched me, his smokey grey eyes tried to catch mine with a mixed message of understanding and sympathy. He finally hypnotized me into calming down, I took my hand away from my mouth and stared at the marks my teeth had left on the knuckle. „Emily, are you ready to talk? Do you want to tell me your story, or do you want to hear mine first?“ I let out a deep breath and pulled up the blanket which lay on my knees. He helped me to put it over my shoulders. „Tell me your story!“ I whispered. He did.