Flash 01: Out Of The Blue

I hadn't been there very long when it happened. I was in the middle of a swing when I was suddenly enveloped in a strange green light. My whole body was in sheer agony. It felt as if every molecule in me was about to fly apart. I don't even remember falling to the ground. The next thing I knew, I woke up here, in the hospital.

A tap on the door brought me back to reality. I looked up and saw Lucy, the nurse, walking into the room, pushing a cart. I looked at the clock and saw she had been gone for nearly a half-hour.

"Sorry I'm running late," she said. "We're just a bit short-handed today and I got sidetracked."

"No problem," I told her. "I was lost in my own thoughts anyway." She handed me a menu and I looked it over. Everything looked tasty, and I couldn't make up my mind so I asked Lucy what she recommended.

"The grilled chicken breast is really quite good," she said. "It also comes with garlic green beans and garlic mashed potatoes."

"That sounds good," I said as I picked up the hospital phone to place my order. After I finished, she began changing my bandages.

"You know, everyone is really amazed at how well and how fast you're healing," she said as she removed the bandages.

"Thanks," I said.

"God, what beautiful blue eyes he has. I've never seen such piercing blue eyes before," I heard her say. There was only one problem, though. Her lips never moved. And what does she mean, blue eyes, I asked myself. My eyes are brown.

"What was that about my eyes?" I asked. She looked at me, surprise on her face.

"I... didn't say anything about your eyes," she said. "Oh, my God. I thought about how piercing your eyes are. So... blue. But I didn't say anything. At least, not out loud." I let that sink in for a moment before continuing.

"But my eyes are brown, not blue," I said. She shook her head.

"Oh no, they're blue alright. With a tiny gold speck on one side. Here, take a look," she said, grabbing a small mirror from the counter. She handed it to me and I looked. Sure enough, they were a piercing sky blue and had a tiny gold speck next to the pupil, on the outboard side. What the hell, I asked myself. I handed the mirror back.

"Is my driver's license here?" I asked her.

"If it's in your wallet, sure," she said.

"Can you get it, please?" I asked. She went to the wardrobe and pulled my wallet out of my trousers. I grabbed my license and showed it to her. It clearly indicated the color of my eyes: brown.

"Oh my God," she said. "I'd better tell Dr. Simpson about this." By then, my food had arrived, and I was starving, so Lucy let the orderly place my meal on the bed tray and left me to eat in peace. I had just finished my pudding when Lucy and Dr. Simpson came into the room. He immediately came to my side and looked down at me for a moment.

"Lucy told me about your eyes, Mr. Drake. Mind if I take a quick look?" he asked.

"Not at all," I said. He sat down and flashed his light into my eyes and looked at them carefully. "Is it possible for a person's eyes to change color?" I asked when he sat back.

"I have heard of cases where eyes have changed hues," he said. "But I've never known anyone to have such a drastic change like yours. And I don't recall seeing the specks of gold before. I think it would be best if we have a specialist take a look." I looked and saw Lucy had left the room, so I told the doctor how I had heard her thinking about my eyes. He said nothing for a few minutes but a frown crossed his face. I could tell what he was thinking.

"I assure you, doc, I'm not making this up and I certainly don't want attention. I just want to get back to my life," I said. He seemed a bit shocked when I repeated his unspoken concerns back to him.

"Alright, Mr. Drake," he said. "You had a pretty unnerving experience and your brain has absorbed a great deal of energy. I'll schedule some tests tomorrow and have someone speak with you about this... phenomenon."

"Thank you, Dr. Simpson," I said as he stood up. Lucy came in as the doctor left the room.

"Do you need anything before I head out for the day?" she asked.

"I was wondering if anyone called my wife to let her know I'm awake," I said.

"Yes, I called her earlier. She said she would come see you when she could break free," she said. I could sense the sadness in her voice. And in her mind. This was unnerving, I thought. I nodded my head.

"Thanks," I said.

"I'll see you in the morning," she said.

"I'll see you then," I told her. She smiled before turning away. I tried to watch some television, hoping that Battlestar Gallactica reruns would help take my mind off my problems. They didn't, however. I ordered dinner and had just finished when I heard a tapping at the door -- it was Ginger.

I looked up and got the shock of my life. She looked... different. It was like looking at one of those 3-D anaglyph pictures where the red and cyan are offset somewhat. I rubbed my eyes, hoping I could focus on her but I couldn't. I looked at other objects and people, but they appeared normal. What the hell is going on, I asked myself. I tired looking back at her, but it was difficult.

"I heard you woke up, sweetheart," she said. "I just got off work so I thought I'd stop by and see you before I went home. Are you okay? What's the matter?"

"It's my... eyes," I said. "They're playing tricks on me."

"Your eyes?" she asked. "Oh, my. They're blue. And they have this strange gold speck in them. How did that happen?"

"I don't know," I said. "They're gonna have a specialist come and check them out."

Frowning, she came into the room and walked up to the bed. She reached out and touched my arm, and I felt a shock, the kind you get when you touch metal after walking across a carpet. We both jerked back momentarily.

"That was... shocking," she said as she held her hand. I looked at her face and tried to focus on her, but it was difficult.

"I guess it's just residual energy from the lightning strike," I said. I didn't know if that was true or not, but it sounded good in my head and I hoped she bought it. She smiled as she looked back at me, but her smile actually revolted me. I felt like I was in the presence of something... evil.

"What's wrong, dear?" she asked, concerned. "Aren't you glad to see me?"

"Of course," I said. "They told me you only came by once for a short visit while I was out."

"I'm sorry," she said. "I was so upset when I first saw you. You looked pretty bad when they brought you in. You look pretty good now, though."

"They said I'm healing up faster than they expected."

"I'm glad to hear that," she said. "How much longer are you going to be in here?"

"I don't know," I told her. "Maybe a few more days depending on how well I heal up."

"Good. That will give me at least another day or two with Chad," I heard her say. But, like with Lucy, her mouth never moved. Was I hearing her thoughts as well? Then she actually spoke.

"That's good," she said. "I can't wait to have you back home. It's been so lonely without you." I'll just bet, I thought.

"So, what have you been doing with yourself?" I asked.

"Oh, not much. Just working, then sitting in front of the television, thinking about you, then going to bed," she said.

"Sounds pretty boring," I said.

"Only until Chad comes by. Then we spend the night fucking each other's brains out," I heard her say. "God, I can't wait to get that monster cock of his inside me tonight." I looked up at her, and saw her mouth had never moved. This is getting scary, I thought.

"It is pretty boring," she said. "I'm just glad you're doing better, though."

"Yeah, I'm doing better," I said half-heartedly. My body might be healing, but my heart was breaking as I realized what kind of a monster I had married.

"Well, look, I'm going to head on out," she said.

"You just got here," I said.

"I'm feeling pretty grungy and I really need a shower," she said. "Plus, I'm kinda hungry." I heard more, but her mouth never moved. "And horny as hell. Chad is probably halfway to the house by now."

"So, you don't have anything planned? No visitors or anything? Not even another girl's night out?" I asked. "I figured you'd be out almost every night since I'm not home." Her face paled for a moment but she recovered quickly.

"No, nothing planned for tonight," she lied. "I might go out for a bit tomorrow. Of course, I'll stop by and see you first."

"Yeah, that might be nice," I said. "By the way, who's Chad?" She looked at me, surprised. "I've heard you mention him a couple times now."

"Chad?" she asked. "I... don't know. I don't recall mentioning him. There is a guy at the office named Chad. Chad Wheeler. He's one of the guys who runs the office."

"Drives a fancy sports car? One of those European models?"

"I think so. Why?" I heard her say something after that, but her lips never moved. "Does he know about Chad? Oh, shit." Busted, I thought to myself.

"Nothing. Just wondering," I said. I heard her breathe a sigh of relief at that. "So, you'll come by after work tomorrow?"

"Of course," she said with a smile. "You know I love you, don't you?"

"So you've said," I told her. She leaned down and gave me a patronizing kiss on the top of my head.

"Well, I'd better get going. See you tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," I told her. I watched as she left the room. My heart was broken, but I wasn't about to let her get me down. I had a lot to think about. Namely, how to get out of this farce of a marriage with my balls -- and as much of my bank account as I could -- intact.

I turned the television on and tried to watch, but I just couldn't get into it. Finally, I turned the television off and fell asleep.

I woke up sometime in the night and heard low whispers in the room. I couldn't make out what was being said, but I clearly heard two separate voices. It was quite dark, with the only light coming from the equipment next to my bed. I looked around and thought I saw two shadowy figures at the foot of my bed.

"Hello?" I asked quietly. They turned their heads to look at me and I saw two sets of strangely-shaped yellow eyes staring back. I felt a strange chill go up my spine. "Who are you?" I asked. I never got an answer as the figures dissolved into thin air right before me. Startled, I hit the call button. A nurse came in a few seconds later.

"Are you alright, Mr. Drake?" she asked. I shook my head.

"There were two people in here and then they just disappeared," I said. She looked around the room before responding.

"It looks like we're the only two people in here now," she said. "Are you sure you weren't just having a bad dream?"

"No, I'm sure there were two people right there at the foot of my bed."

"Well, no one has come in since I came on this evening, and my station is right across from your room," she said. "Why don't you lay back down and try to get some sleep."

"I don't know that I can sleep right now," I told her.

"I'll talk to the doctor and see if we can give you something. Just stay right there, okay?"

"Okay," I said. A few minutes later, she came back with a pill and gave it to me.

"This should help you go to sleep," she said. "And if you see those people back in here, call me immediately, okay?"

"Okay," I said, returning her smile. I laid back down and was soon asleep. After breakfast the next morning, Dr. Simpson came into my room with another man in medical garb.

"How are you feeling this morning, Mr. Drake?" Dr. Simspon asked.

"I'm feeling rested, thank you," I said.

"Good," he responded. "This is Dr. Allen. He's an eye specialist and he wants to give you a quick exam if that's alright with you."

"Sure," I said. Dr. Allen sat down in a stool next to my bed and looked at my eyes for a moment.

"Dr. Simpson tells me you were struck by lightning," he said.

"Yes, I was," I told him. He looked up at Dr. Simpson.

"And you saw no signs of any Lichtenberg figures?" he asked. Dr. Simpson shook his head.

"No, none." I looked at them both, wondering what they were talking about. Dr. Simpson saw the confusion on my face and explained. "Those are tattoo-like scars that result when lightning forces the red blood cells out of your capillaries, and into your epidermis. Some people who have been struck have them over very large areas of their bodies. For whatever reason, you have no such scarring whatsoever."

"Did you notice any damage to his eyes when he was brought in?" Dr. Allen asked. Dr. Simpson shook his head.

"They were glazed over when he first came in, but then they cleared fairly quickly and we saw no apparent damage," he said. Dr. Allen nodded his head and looked at me.

"There's one other thing," I said. I told them what happened when Ginger came to see me last night. They said nothing until I was finished.

"Have you experienced this with anyone or anything else?" Dr. Allen asked. I shook my head.

"No, I haven't," I told him.

"Interesting," he said. "Have you felt any pain, stinging or burning in your eyes since this happened?" Again, I shook my head.

"No," I said.

"I see. Do you wear glasses?"

"Only when I'm working on a server. I need them for reading, but that's all," I said.

"Let me take a quick look at your eyes," he said. He pulled a small scope out of his pocket, turned on the light and looked into both my eyes. When he finished, he turned it off and sat back.

"I don't see any obvious damage," he said. "No cataracts, no signs of blood in the vitreous humor. Nothing seems to be out of place. Everything appears to be okay. I'd say you got lucky. Lightning can do a great deal of damage to the eyes. Nevertheless, I'd like to do a thorough examination. I'd like you to set up an appointment with the Eye Center after you're discharged. Here's my card. You can tell them I asked you to call." He handed me a business card. "And don't wait too long. It generally takes a few weeks before they can get you in."

"I won't, thanks," I said. "What about my eyes changing color?"

"It has been known to happen, but to be honest, I've never seen a change quite as drastic as yours. I wouldn't worry too much about it at this point. Just make that appointment and we'll take a closer look at everything, okay?"

"Okay," I said. He got up, shook Dr. Simpson's hand and left.

"Well, Mr. Drake, let's check you out and get those bandages changed, shall we? We have you set for some tests later this morning," he said. Nurse Lucy came into the room with a cart of bandages and the two of them looked me over, amazed at how fast I was healing.

"It seems like most of your lesions are completely healed," Dr. Simpson said. "I see no need to keep you bandaged up like a mummy. We'll only change the dressings on what's necessary and then get you down for your tests."

Lucy wheeled me around and hovered over me as I underwent several tests, including an MRI. By the time we got back to my room, it was time for lunch, so I ordered a burger and fries. Shortly after I finished, Dr. Simpson came in the room, reports in hand.

"Good afternoon, doc," I said. "Good news, I hope." He smiled as he sat down.

"Actually, yes," he said. "According to your test results, your brain activity is about 15 to 20 percent above what is considered normal. The MRI showed everything is in good shape, no signs of internal damage or tumors. I think we can let you go home sometime late tomorrow morning."

"That sounds good to me, doc," I said.

"Tell me, Mr. Drake, do you still hear other people's thoughts?" he asked. I looked at him and for a moment, he appeared the same way Ginger had, but not as severe. I began to wonder what he was on about. "If he does, I can use that as an excuse to keep him for observation and maybe get Stan to do some exploratory surgery," I heard him say. But his lips never moved. I decided to put him off, at least for now.

"No, doc," I said. "Apparently, whatever it was that made that happen is gone now. If it's all the same to you, I'd like to get home and get back to my life."

"Of course," he said. I could see the disappointment in his face -- and in his mind. I also saw something else. Apparently, the MRI had revealed some strange new nerve clusters in my brain that no one could explain. I figured that as long as I feigned no strange abilities they would have no reason to keep me, and I certainly didn't want anyone digging around in my brain. He made some notes in his chart and stood to leave.

"Get some rest, Mr. Drake," he said. "I'll be by to check up on you later."

"Thanks," I said. Lucy prepared to leave as well, but turned back to me before she left the room.

"I'll be by in a bit to check up on you," she said. I nodded my thanks and grabbed my cell, which she had left on the nightstand, plugged into the charger. I called my parents and told them the news. They were happy to hear that I was doing better and promised to come pick me up in the morning. Dad told me they had picked my car up from the golf course and took it home.

My next call was to Ryan. He was happy to hear I was awake and would be going home tomorrow, and said he would pass the word around as everyone at the office was asking how I was doing. He also told me to take the next week off, since I had plenty of sick time.

"I want you back here at 100 percent," he said with a chuckle. I thanked him for the time off. I laid back in the bed after ending the call and tried watching some television, but my mind kept going back to Ginger. Why was she doing this to me? To us? Or did it even matter anymore?

Moreover, what do I do about it? Under normal circumstances, divorce would seem to be a no-brainer. Sure, the lawyer had probably worked up a post-nuptial agreement, but to me that was a bit like closing the barn door after the horses had already escaped. Lucy's voice brought me back to reality.

"How are you feeling?" she asked quietly as she stood next to my bed. I hadn't even heard her come in the room and was startled at the sound of her voice. "Sorry," she added. "I didn't mean to startle you. You looked like you were deep in thought."

"I was," I said. She pulled up a stool and recorded my vitals as she spoke.

"Tell me the truth," she said quietly. "What am I thinking about right now?"

"Your cat, Snagglepuss," I said without thinking. "You're wondering what trouble he's getting himself into right now." She chuckled at that.

"Yes, he's a cutie, but he tends to get into things. Last night, he..."

"Jumped off your staircase right into your plate," I said, finishing her sentence. "Sent food flying everywhere."

"Yes," she said. "That's right. I spent several minutes warming that lasagna up in my microwave." She looked at me closer before speaking. "So, you lied to Dr. Simpson. That's alright, your secret is safe with me." I looked at her, surprised.

"Thank you for that," I said. "I have no desire to be someone's guinea pig, and I sure as hell don't want anyone poking around in my brain. Does he suspect?"

"Not that I know of," she said. "But it doesn't matter. They can't do anything without your consent. Besides, your discharge papers are being put together even as we speak. You'll be out of here tomorrow morning, provided everything looks good, which I suspect it will."

"You seem sad to see me leave," I said.

"There's no secrets from there, are there? Yes, I am sad to see you leave. I guess I've gotten hooked on those big blue eyes of yours," she said.

"You do know I'm still married, right?" I asked.

"I know," she said. "But something tells me not for long. Am I right?"

"Probably not," I said. "I had just visited a lawyer shortly before... this... happened. From what he tells me, if I divorce her, I'll probably end up living in a cardboard box under a freeway somewhere while she gets half or more of everything I've ever worked for."