The Last Hiccup by Christopher Meades Read Free Book Online

sludge that threatened to expel itself at any moment. Vladimir’s tone conveyed such wrath, such piercing intent, that Markus’s jovial expression immediately fled and was replaced by pure, unbridled fear.
    â€œWhy don’t you love her anymore?” Markus said.
    â€œBecause . . .” Vladimir started talking. And for the next hour he didn’t stop.

    â€œNever again, my friend, never again,” Markus said.
    Just three minutes before, Sergei had popped his head into Markus’s office, an unsuspecting expression on his face. Without hesitation Vladimir hopped off his chair, walked over and stood beside his doctor. Sergei patted the boy on the head and asked Markus if they were still scheduled to meet again at the same time on Monday. Markus, who for the past hour had gripped his canes tighter and tighter until he felt a numbing, wistful ache in his hands, stood up, precariously at first, his canes quivering in wide, haphazard shakes, and fled the room, knocking over a stack of papers on his way out — anything to evade Vladimir’s penetrating stare. Sergei stood in place, dumbfounded, the hiccupping boy clinging to his pant leg.
    Fifteen minutes later, Sergei was watching Vladimir from the window of Markus’s office. He had taken the boy across the street to a café and purchased him a
syrniki
— cheese and apple pancake — as a treat, then left him outside with strict instructions not to speak to anyone. Sergei was wary of allowing Vladimir to roam free after having spent so much time inside the hospital. From the window, young Vlad appeared to be behaving himself. He was kneeling beside Sergei’s automobile on a patch of lawn the snow had forgotten, absently pulling frozen strands of grass from the ground with one hand as he devoured the pastry in the other.
    Sergei offered his friend a cup of coffee from the café. “Lots of sugar with a few drops of milk?” he said with a forced smile. Markus’s tiny misshapen hands reached out with great reluctance and drank down the lukewarm beverage in one swift gulp. Not even the sweet taste of sugar could rid Markus of his dour countenance. Sergei would have to be careful. His old friend had the appearance of a wounded animal ready to attack.
    â€œWhat happened in here?” he said. “Why the histrionics? Why can’t Vladimir just wait in the next room?”
    â€œThe boy is mentally unstable,” Markus said. “That is what happened. You brought me a patient devoid of human emotion, so callous and vile a soul that when he dies the devil himself will be afraid of him.”
    â€œSurely you exaggerate.”
    Markus burst from his chair, his cheeks flushed red with anger. “I am not exaggerating!”
    Sergei spoke as calmly as he could. “Were you able to decipher whether the hiccups are a symptom of some larger mental issue? Is there any chance the boy is faking them?”
    â€œDamn it, Sergei! Forget about the hiccups! Who cares if the boy yelps every four seconds? You can’t see the forest for the trees, old chap. The hiccups aren’t the problem. The boy is a sociopath. That is the problem.”
    â€œWhat do you mean the boy’s a sociopath?”
    Markus howled his response. “A madman! A lunatic! An antisocial, deranged beast! Whatever description you want to use, Vladimir meets all the requirements.”
    â€œBut he’s just a boy.”
    â€œHe is for now, old chap. But mark my words — one day that boy will grow into a man, and when he does, he will bring pain and suffering to all those around him. And you, Sergei, will find yourself mired in this evil creature’s depraved quagmire.”
    â€œBe reasonable,” Sergei said. “I’ve never seen any evidence of this. The boy doesn’t lash out. He’s never hurt a nurse or an orderly. There’s no overabundance of strangled cats on the hospital grounds. Vladimir has met with