Elixir by Eric Walters Page B

expression.
    â€œI know it sounds cruel. Sometimes it feels cruel. But we have to make hard decisions, do things that aren’t necessarily pleasant, to try to save human lives. Do you understand?”
    I was too numb to say anything.
    â€œRuthie, are you all right?” Dr. Banting asked. “You’re terribly pale … perhaps I shouldn’t have mentioned any of this … are you feeling nauseated again?”
    I staggered to my feet. “I have to go,” I stammered. I rushed off, leaving Dr. Banting sitting under the tree.
    â€œ SO, ARE YOU GOING to tell me what’s bothering you?” my mother asked, rinsing her mop in the pail of grey, soapy water.
    â€œWhat makes you think something’s bothering me?”
    She let out a deep sigh and leaned the mop against the wall. “Ruth, I’m your mother. I know you better than you know yourself, and I can always tell when something’s wrong. And not only do I know something’s wrong now, I know you want to talk to me about it.”
    â€œWhy do you think that?”
    â€œWell, you’ve been leaning against that wall watching me clean this washroom for the past fifteen minutes. Either you like watching me work, or you enjoy the view, or you have something you want to say.” And with that she took the mop and began washing the floor again.
    For a split second I was tempted to tell her I was there for the view, just to prove her wrong, but of course she was right. She was almost always right. That was both reassuring and terribly annoying. Besides, I did want to talk. Or more correctly, I needed to talk.
    â€œWell?” she asked.
    â€œIt’s about those dogs upstairs,” I said.
    â€œThe dogs that are being used for medical research.”
    â€œYes! Did you read that pamphlet?”
    â€œI read it.”
    â€œAll of it?” I asked.
    â€œFront to back.”
    â€œThen you know what could be happening to those poor dogs!”
    â€œI know what could be happening, but I don’t know for sure and neither do you.”
    â€œBut I do know!”
    â€œI told you, just because you read it in a pamphlet doesn’t mean it’s true,” she warned.
    â€œI didn’t just read it, I saw it!”
    My mother stopped mopping and looked up at me. I knew from her expression that I shouldn’t have said that, and I knew what was coming next.
    â€œJust how do you know what’s happening to those dogs?” she asked.
    I swallowed hard. “I was in there … in the room … in the kennel.”
    â€œAnd why would you be in there?” she asked. Her voice was calm, but I picked up a hint of anger.
    â€œI just wanted to see,” I mumbled.
    My mother slowly wiped her soapy hands on her apron and walked over to me, putting her hands on my shoulders.
    â€œI should have realized you might do that after reading the pamphlet. I should have warned you againstgoing. You’re a good girl and you’ve never defied your mother. I should have figured your curiosity would get the better of you. Haven’t you ever heard that curiosity killed the cat?”
    â€œIt’s not the cats I’m worried about, it’s the dogs! Did you know that most of those dogs belong to Dr. Banting?”
    â€œI was aware that he was responsible for most of them,” she answered.
    â€œYou were aware and you didn’t tell me?” I demanded.
    â€œWhy would I?” she asked. “It’s not the business of either you or me.”
    â€œBut they’re killing dogs.”
    â€œYou can’t be sure of that.”
    â€œI am. Dr. Banting told me. He and Mr. Best are performing operations to give them diabetes, and then eventually the dog dies because they’ve given it a disease that there’s no cure for and—”
    â€œThey’re involved in medical research to try to save lives,” my mother said, cutting me off. “Human