"Whoop, you done already," she told him. "You fast."

"I’ve been drinking a lot of water," the boy said.

Inside the private room, Doug could hear Jay having his blood pressure checked and his temperature taken. Then the woman in Muppet scrubs launched into a questionnaire. "How do you feel today?"

"…Okay."

"Have you had a tattoo in the last twelve months?"

"No."

"Have you spent a total of three months or more in the United Kingdom since 1985?"

"No."

"Have you ever had sexual contact with another man, even once?"

"W-what? No."

"Have you ever paid for sex or accepted money or drugs for sex, even once?"

"No. What is that?"

"Just a little rubbing alcohol, honey. I have to prick your finger to test your blood. Do you now use or have you ever used intravenous drugs?"

The other woman by the beds pinched off the boy’s tube, removed the needle, then pressed cotton to the wound and told him to hold it there with his arm straight up.

A voice called out from the private room where Jay had gone.

"Kendra? Can you…Kendra, can you come here?"

"Just a sec," said Kendra as she removed the full blood bag from the bed and placed it on a nearby counter, right next to another bag.

"Kendra!"

Here we go, thought Doug.

"All right, all right," Kendra answered, and turned to the boy. "You just lie there a minute till I get back."

She passed Doug and joined Jay and Muppet scrubs in the little room. "He’s a fainter, help me lift him," said Muppet scrubs, and Doug had to admire Jay’s dedication to the role. If he’d only thrown himself into last spring’s My Fair Lady auditions like that, he could have played Henry Higgins for sure.

The door closed and Doug was alone with the blood and the boy with his arm in the air. He leaped from the chair to the counter, paused for a reverent moment over the plump red bags, considered biting into one right then and there. Instead, he tucked a bag under each arm and turned.