Sweet Teeth

The Dentist had seen all sorts of teeth at the academy - teeth lidded with tartar, teeth the colour of young corn, teeth with silver fillings shivering into nothing. Sometimes too, he had found teeth so perfectly formed, so stunningly white, that you would feel ashamed of your own smile. This kid, he could plainly see, had those teeth.

‘Wow, you have lovely teeth there!’

He extracted the mirror from her mouth and pulled off his glove. The Hi Fi fizzed in the corner of the room, its chatter further disturbed by the sound of the running tap. He glanced at the posters above the sink - here is what your tooth would like if we cut it in half, here is what your tooth would look like if it has a smiley face and arms and legs and brushed itself. He dried his hands and sat back down next to her.

‘You must hardly eat any sweets at all.’

‘I don’t, Mum doesn’t let me, like, not even as a treat.’

‘Well it sounds like your Mum’s very sensible, you have beautiful teeth. Some of the best I’ve ever seen on a girl your age.’

‘Really?”

The kid sounded genuinely proud.

‘I mean it, kid!’

He noticed that she was humming along to a song on the radio.

‘You like the music?’ he asked.

‘It’s ok.’ she said, tapping her tiny feet.

‘I don’t even know it. Who is this?’

‘Katy Perry. You don’t know Katy Perry?’

‘No, I’m afraid I don’t. I suppose you learn something new every day! Anyway, I think we’re all done here, but I want to see you again next week, so that we can fit you with a gum shield to protect those lovely teeth of yours. Can you ask your mum if that’s ok?’

‘Sure.’

She jumped forward out of the chair, swung her school rucksack onto her back and arranged her long hair behind her. The Dentist opened the door and followed her into the waiting room. She was so young but already she seemed so style conscious. Her hair was an unnatural blonde, she had on some scruffy canvas shoes and a chequered and hooded coat.

‘See you next week then!’

Once she had gone he leaned on the desk and faced The Receptionist, who passed him an ashtray from inside a drawer. He took a camel and a lighter out of his pocket and took a soothing, head-rushing drag. The Receptionist went to the door, locked it and flipped the sign. The day had gone slowly until now.

‘The last one had beautiful teeth, you know.’

The Dentist sounded wistful and stared up at the ceiling. There were drawings of birds, the sun and an aeroplane just as there were in the surgery. They were meant to distract the kids. The Receptionist took the cigarette from his mouth and took a drag on it herself. She let a ribbon of smoke escape her lips and handed him a pack of brown paper envelopes. They both smiled and watched the smoke strain to reach the birds.

The Receptionist walked past The Kid on her way to the postbox. It was a trip that she cherished, it was her bit of fresh air, away from the children and their parents, and she could smoke on the way back. Besides this, she liked the immense responsibility the envelopes gave her. She liked their strangely significant weight and she liked to rattle them in her hand. When she walked past The Kid, she smiled and said that her Dentist was ready for her and waiting. She watched The Kid walk in and close the door behind her, swinging the sign into view - Sweet Teeth: My Child’s Dentist.

In the surgery, The Dentist had his hands in The Kid’s mouth, pressing a mould around her teeth.

‘Does that feel ok?’

‘Unh hnh’

‘Great. This will be worth it I promise, just a precaution to protect these beautiful teeth! Wouldn’t want them damaged now.’

The Kid cast her eyes around the room. A small window showed that outside she wasn’t missing much, and she appraised the humour and appeal of the tooth posters on each wall. The decorated ceiling seemed fairly pathetic. The Dentist’s desk held the most interest for her. There was a silver tray of files, some pens, some brown envelopes and a computer which hummed and watched her like a vacant, unblinking eye. She stared back at it.

The Dentist couldn’t help liking her eyes. Their eyes are always so wide when they have someone’s hands in their mouth. He pointed towards the Hi Fi.

‘Do you like the music by the way? It’s Katy Perry. I went out and bought the CD the other day, on your recommendation its good.’

The Kid could only raise her eyebrows with excitement.

‘Hnh!’

‘Good. Ok, now...bite.’

The Kid bit into the hot, waxy plastic. The way it searched so unashamedly into the crannies of her gums and teeth made her uncomfortable, and she winced a bit.

‘Sorry! Don’t worry, it’ll be over in a bit. And...open.’

The Dentist reached in and delicately pinched the mould away from The Kid’s gums.

‘There you go.’

He placed the mould on a metallic tray by the sink and turned up the CD player. The music came marching out of the speakers and immediately became another presence in the room. The lines of the song insisted themselves upon their exchange.

‘Ok then, we’ll have the guard ready overnight and you can come and pick it up tomorrow. What you’ll have to do then is put it in whenever your sleeping, or just not doing much, like watching telly. That sound ok?’

‘Sure.’

‘Ok kid, I’ll see you tomorrow then.’

The next day, The Receptionist sent The Kid straight through without a smile. When she walked into the surgery, The Dentist was smoking through the half-open window. He noticed her expression of surprise but did nothing to soothe it.

‘Ah, here for the Guard then!’

The Kid nodded.

‘Ok, I’ll just get it.’

He leaned towards a drawer in his desk, cigarette still in hand. He opened the drawer and reached inside, but something made him stop still.

‘Actually, before I give you the guard. Do you mind if I look at those lovely teeth again, just to check? I’ll put Katy Perry on.’

The Kid smiled.

‘Ok.’

The Dentist put in the CD and returned to the chair, which The Kid had instinctively sat herself down in. Without looking at her, and delicately balancing his cigarette in his hand, he fastened her wrists to the chair’s handles with the straps that were necessary to restrain patients in the more painful procedures. He turned the lamp into her face and transferred his cigarette to his mouth. Taking a little care not to dribble ash into her face or her eyes, he reached for his dental mirror and poked it into her mouth, he didn’t bother with the gloves this time.

‘Have you been eating sweets?’

She shook her head as hard as she could, she was more than a little confused and nervous.

‘Calm down, calm down. Have you been eating sweets? Be honest with me now.’

She shook her head again, less wildly. The Dentist wedged a plastic guide into her open mouth - to keep the gums parted.

‘Listen to me. Do you know what sweets have in them? They have a lot of sugar, and all the sugar from the sweets gets stuck in your teeth, ok? Now sometimes, because it gets stuck in your teeth, the sugar comes into contact with food. And do you know what happens when food and sugar meet in your teeth? They create acid. Acid, kid, and that’s very bad for your teeth. OK? So I’m going to ask you again, have you been eating sweets?
’
The Kid shook her head weakly. She was about to cry.

‘Then why is there a hole in this one? Why is there a big, disgusting hole?’

The Kid started to cry, her eyes were screwed tight - no longer wide.

‘Sorry to do this, but that tooth’s going to have to come out.’

The Dentist left the chair’s side, threw his cigarette out the window and closed it. He then went to his desk and opened his drawer, he threw some envelopes on the table and pulled out a pair of clumsy looking pliers. He put the black edges of the plier around her strikingly tiny tooth.

Tears streamed straight down the side of The Kid’s face as she rocked against the straps.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll try not to twist it, and if it hurts just look at the aeroplanes, ok?’

He struck the tight pliers with the ball of his wrist to disturb the tooth from its place in the gum. The impact caused blood to explode instantly in The Kid’s mouth, and her whole body arched upwards with pain. The Kid screamed a scream that was denied consonants. The Dentist then wrenched the tooth clean out of her gum. The Kid’s scream turned to a pitch so high that it became almost soundless. A watery trail of blood flowed down her chin.

The dentist pressed the newly fashioned dental mould to her raw gum, and turned to wash the tooth in sink.

When it was clean, he held it into the lamplight and observed it. It was a perfect, flawless tooth. The Dentist went to his desk and dropped it neatly into a brown envelope. Written on the envelope were the words Sweet Teeth.