“Did you scrub yourself well?” Alfred lifts the boy’s face and examines.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Show me your nails.” They are trimmed and neat. He then examines his shoes which are clean and polished. “You did not comb your hair.” Peter runs his fingers between his hair to set them then puts on his cap.
A chauffeur is waiting in a steam car by the entrance of the manor. A Footman opens the door for the car and Alfred lets Peter get in first. They ride into the city listening to the hissing of the steam and the rhythmic chugging of the locomotive. They meander between mills and factories, then enter the carriageway. They see airships floating in the sky which have a sepia hue caused by the smog covered sun.
Alfred stares at his mechanical leg which evokes images of the surgery. He can feel the cool frame of the operating table brushing against his arm. A clouded voice belonging to the doctor echoes in his ears, “Ready?”
He can feel a stiff yet smooth surgical clamp which the surgeon attaches below his kneecap. He gulps down some wine from a glass that the doctor offers him. He can see an assistant in front of him, sharpening a scalpel from which sparks fly in random directions, the screeching from the metal is deafening. The assistant then picks up a saw for filing and he can hear a scraping sound. The doctor gives him a small nod and offers another glass of wine. The smooth blade of the knife reflects the light in the surgery room when it is ready. It will be quick. His mouth is stuffed with rolled cloth and his teeth grind the fabric, when he is ready for the blade to slice him. He can feel the roughness of the rope on his right leg that fastens it to the table, another rope is tied to his left thigh. The doctor picks up the scalpel and takes a firm grip on Alfred’s thigh, then in one swift movement he makes an incision. Alfred grunts trying to supress the agony. It feels like a swarm stinging him. His arms spasm and his eyes become teary. The assistant holds him down, locking his hands on the table. The doctor quickly places a rag doused in chloroform on his face. He breathes in the chemical and his muscles relax, his eyelids feel heavy, then the assistant takes it away from his mouth. The doctor uses a towel to clean the tissues and the assistant holds the piece of cloth in place, then the surgeon picks up a hacksaw. Alfred has a faint sense as he feels the crooked blade of the saw cutting through his bones, turning them into powder. The pressure he feels on his hip due to the movement of the saw is too intense and he loses his consciousness.