In about forty-five seconds I was back in the waiting room with the kind secretary, who, sadly, made me sign a paper. I think I promised not to reveal any trade secrets. And I won't.
I felt a little uncomfortable. The atmosphere was strange. It felt like I'd been let into a secret – something not quite right – and I was happy to leave. In the outer room, the two women knitted desperately. People were arriving, and the younger woman was showing them around. The older woman sat, her feet on a foot warmer, and a cat on her lap. She wore a white cap, had a small growth on her cheek, and her glasses were on her nose. She looked at me over her glasses. Her calm expression worried me. Two young men were shown in, and she gave them the same quick glance. She seemed to know everything about them and me. I didn't feel good about it. She seemed mysterious and powerful. Later, I often thought of them, guarding a mysterious place, knitting black wool, one introducing people to the unknown, the other watching the young faces with calm, old eyes. Many of those she looked at never saw her again.
I had another appointment with the doctor. "Just a formality," the secretary assured me, seeming very involved in my problems. A young man, probably a clerk – the office was very quiet – came from upstairs and took me to see the doctor. He was poorly dressed, with ink spots on his jacket and a big, loose tie. It was a little early, so I suggested a drink, and he relaxed and became friendly. Over our drinks, he praised the company, and I asked why he didn't go to work abroad. He immediately became serious. "'I'm not as stupid as I look,' he said, and finished his drink. Then we left.
The doctor checked my pulse. "Good, good," he said, and then suddenly asked to measure my head. I agreed, and he used a measuring tool to take measurements. He was wearing an old coat and slippers. I thought he was a bit strange. "I always measure the heads of those going abroad," he explained. "For science." "And when they come back?" I asked. "Oh, I never see them," he said. "The changes happen inside, you know." He smiled. "So you're going abroad. That's interesting." He looked at me carefully and made a note. "Any mental illness in your family?" he asked. I was angry. "Is that for science too?" "It would be interesting to study mental changes," he said, ignoring my anger, "but…" "Are you a psychiatrist?" I asked. "Every doctor should be, a little," he replied calmly. "I have a theory you men going abroad can help prove. That's my contribution to my country's gain from this important colony. I leave the wealth to others. Forgive my questions, but you're the first British man I've examined…" I quickly said I wasn't a typical British man. "If I were," I said, "I wouldn't be talking to you like this." "What you say is deep, and probably wrong," he laughed. "Avoid getting angry and avoid the strong sun. Goodbye. In the tropics, you must stay calm." He raised a finger. "Keep calm, keep calm."