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Chapter 2 - Glow

  I awoke to a loud, irritating, repetitive beep. My head ached like never before and nausea simmered in my stomach. It took a significant amount of effort to open my eyes to find the source of the sound. A drip monitor stood shamelessly next to my bed, beeping its little heart away.

  “Glad to see you are finally awake!”

  Exhausted, I had to concentrate hard to focus on the person standing next to me. A nurse named Bridget, according to the badge on her uniform, was staring back at me. She looked too young to be a nurse.

  I closed my eyes again and when I opened them an eyewink later, she was still waiting.

  “Just your left arm please, need to take your vitals.” She sounded friendly and happy and annoying, aggravating my earth-shattering headache. She didn’t introduce herself and I didn’t feel like talking much, as I feared that my head might explode.

  As I lifted my arm from under the covers, the movement felt slow and heavier than usual. A little bell rang softly beneath the thick feeling in my head but I disregarded it. The blundering feeling I attributed to a side effect of some or other type of medicine from the drip.

  I closed my eyes again and held my arm out to her. She connected one little gizmo to my finger and another around my arm for the blood pressure measurement.

  “Are you feeling any pain or is anything else the matter?” she asked in that annoyingly friendly tone while she waited for the two machines to take their readings.

  Desperate for relief, I braved the pain that talking brought. “Yes, I have a splitting headache. And my hands and feet feel rather numb. Could it be from the meds?”

  “I doubt it, but we can ask the doctor when he makes his rounds. In the meantime I’ll bring you something he prescribed for the pain.” This time she sounded even more cheerful.

  I frowned. “Do you know why I’m in here?”

  “Some rare type of virus, doctor said. Don’t think it’s contagious though, he would have ordered isolation. You can ask him later.” And with that, she disappeared.

  The bell rang loud and clear this time. I waited for Bridget’s footsteps to fade before I raised both my arms. They were definitely feeling heavy and numb. And then I noticed for the first time how odd my hands looked.

  A very thin almost transparent layer of what looked like soft-glowing heat waves spiralled from my fingertips, circled around each finger like a mini-tornado, then flowed down to my palms. It extended about one centimetre beyond my skin around my fingers, and became undetectably narrow around my wrist. Blood rushed underneath the skin around the fuming areas; it was hot and almost pulsating, but painless.

  Shocked, I yanked the sheet off me and frantically inspected my feet and legs. I gasped with relief that they were normal. I peeked underneath the silly hospital dress. The rest was normal too.

  I placed my hands against each other and the spirals circled around both fingers. When I touched my arm, it felt normal against the skin but the spirals dived into my arm, leaving a small red spot.

  Panic scared my poor headache out of its senses. I had no idea what had happened to me, or what had been done to me, but I didn’t like it one bit. Too strange. Too weird. No illness or virus could possibly explain this!

  I seriously considered calling Bridget back… but then argued that she must have noticed my hands. Although she seemed completely unaware of it all: surely, she would have reacted to something so unfamiliar and unusual? Maybe she was simply polite. Or scared.

  I took a deep breath to calm myself down. I’ve never been somebody who believed in fairy tales and magic and I’ve always had a very logical and analytical approach to life. I urged myself to think clearly, and concluded that Bridget had not noticed the glowing fumes around my hands. It appeared that I was seeing something that no one else was.

  I had to test my theory.

  With a firm hand, I pressed the button to call her. I’d ask her straight out if she could see something strange with me. She was the ideal objective person as she seemed friendly and sympathetic, but at the same time she was completely insignificant in my life.

  The bell sounded somewhere in the hallway and I forced myself to stop staring at my hands. I heard a pair of rushed footsteps. Bridget came in with a small tray and a little box of medicine and a glass of water on it.

  “Didn’t forget about you. Here’s your medication for the pain,” she smiled at me apologetically. I had forgotten about the meds. It saved me the embarrassment of asking a semi-stranger an awkward question.

  She held out the little blue pill and a glass of water towards me. She didn’t leave, and it was clear she was waiting for me to swallow. I didn’t think anything of it, took the pill and threw it in my mouth.

  “That should help soon,” she half-smiled. “And oh, I forgot to tell you. Your mother was here all day; she’s very worried about you. She had to go but said that she would be back tomorrow,” she said, still staring at me. I was increasingly uncomfortable under her steady gawk.

  Although the thought of my mother was very comforting, the realization hit me that Bridget was trying to distract me to get me to swallow the pill. My heartbeat picked up and my self-defence mechanism kicked in. To look convincing, I took a big sip from the glass of water, then held the tablet under my tongue as I swallowed.

  “You can press the little button if you need something else,” she said with a smirk as she walked out.

  I waited for her footsteps to fade away. As soon as I was alone, I took the pill out of my mouth with my still-fuming hands. I looked around for a place to discard it where she wouldn’t find it and decided on the window.

  I sat up slowly, weakened by a growing sensation of hunger and thirst. I kept my neck and pounding head as still as possible. Pressing heavily on the drip stand, I moved my weight to my legs as I got up from the bed. My limbs were so heavy that I broke out in a sweat. My muscles tensed beyond their capability in an attempt to move my legs and I fell to one knee.

  After a few moments, I gathered enough energy to stand. Even more slowly than before, I moved forward, one small step at a time. By the time I reached the window, my hospital gown was soaking wet.

  I pulled up the window and threw the pill into the bushes way below. The fresh air felt good. It cooled my face down, and my tidal waves of nerves reduced to a few ripples as I convinced myself that Bridget wasn’t actually harmful.

  The breeze tousled my hair and I closed my eyes to the peacefulness that surrounded me. I was relaxed and free, and raised my heavy arms so that I could feel the wind against my skin. My breathing slowed as I inhaled deeper and deeper. Time stood still.

  I don’t know how long I stood there with my hospital gown pressing against my body, enjoying the outside. Raindrops against my face broke my trance. I opened my eyes and looked out on dark menacing clouds.

  I was baffled – I had just looked at a peaceful sunny day moments ago, with the leaves rustling and the afternoon sunlight dappling the trees nearby. Now the whole world had turned into a forceful storm, and the sudden thunder strikes were so violent and close that they made me take a step back. Maybe I had stood there longer than I had realized. I looked up at the sky again, not able to believe the sudden change.

  Aware again, drowsiness set in. I started the never-ending mile back to bed. Only moments after I reached my bed, Bridget came in. She saw the open window and rushed to close it.

  “I’ll just close this for you. I didn’t see it was open. Looks like a big storm is on its way very suddenly, isn’t it?” she said in an uneven, high-pitched voice, and then turned to me. “Why don’t you rest for a while; I see you are almost asleep.”

  Her frown changed to what a smile, a smiled that looked like her first genuine smile. She was pleased about something. Maybe that blue pill was meant to make me sleep after all.

  There was a thought in the back of my head that I just couldn’t retrieve. My body was aching, heavy and exhausted, and my consciousness was slipping away. The last
thing I saw was Bridget standing next to my bed with that smile on her face…

  I was walking in a wood; somehow I knew I had never been here before. Everything was calm and peaceful. The carpet of leaves that covered the ground turned my footsteps into soft rhythmic rustles. It was a beautiful day. The blue sky peeked through the leaves of the trees overhead and the green of the forest wrapped around me. My soul resonated with awareness and my heart pounded in appreciation of the sight that greeted me.

  As I walked through the trees, something shiny caught my attention. It was an illuminated flower! It shone as if it had its own personal little sun shining in it. It stood out from everything else and I couldn’t help but move towards it. When I reached the spot, I bent over for a better look at the remarkable soft grey flower. The forest blurred and the flower turned into a pair of striking eyes in front of me. Then the face around the eyes gradually took form.

  It was Duncan!

  He smiled at me and I was lost in his eyes again. We didn’t talk, only stared at each other as emotion welled up inside me. Then, all of a sudden, the weather changed and grew dark and overcast. His expression changed too, to one of vigilance. He kept looking over my shoulder and I turned around to see what was bothering him but couldn’t see anything that would make me fret. I turned back to him just as he grabbed my arm.

  “Run!” Duncan shouted. He pulled me in his direction with a strong jerk. I followed him blindly and unthinkingly, running wildly through the forest.

  “It’s his shadow!” he screamed, obviously frightened.

  Something big and strong was chasing us, and it was gaining on us. Too afraid to look back, I kept on moving. Duncan’s breathing was loud next to mine. Adrenaline pumped through my system and my heart raced at full speed. The fear inside me grew bigger and bigger with every step. I grabbed Duncan’s hand, but it disappeared in mine and when I looked across at him, he was gone. Far away in the woods, I heard an earth-shattering scream. I had a terrible omen that he was being hurt and I truly feared for him. Leaves and twigs cracked behind me and a scream ripped through me.

  I woke up with a jerk, my hand over my mouth, tears streaming down my face. Surprised by my own emotions and reaction, I realized that I had an unexplainable connection with Duncan.

  It was a scary thought.

  All of a sudden, I had an urge to know if he was real or not. Determined, I got up from my bed, drip and all. I ignored the heavy feeling that somehow didn’t feel so heavy anymore, and picked up my file from the tray at the foot of the bed.

  I flipped through the pages of daily blood pressure charts. Then a pathological report. I didn’t understand half of the stuff written there, only the phrase:’ Meningitis: negative’. I flipped to the next page and it was another report. Turning it over, I discovered that there were several pages of reports. It was clear that I had been in hospital for at least six days and that still no confirmed diagnosis had been made. It did not feel like six days; I could only recall a few very brief moments.

  My hands were still glowing. That was all it took to convince me that Duncan was real. I was thrilled. Suddenly his words came back to me: “There are people who know about this gift and will do anything to take it away from you ….You cannot trust anyone... be extremely careful and suspicious... no matter who they are.”

  Goosebumps popped out all over my skin. I was in danger. And the immediate threat was Bridget, who had probably been drugging me.

  My mind went into overdrive, a million thoughts spinning around like comets: escape routes; clothes; food; money; transport; a hiding place; people to trust.

  I was still considering my options when the beep of the drip monitor sounded. Without thinking, I ripped the drip from my arm, grabbed my coat from the coat hanger and headed for the window. It was dark outside and the sound of a soft drizzle was barely audible from inside the noisy hospital. Not even the fact that I was on the second floor of the building stopped me.

  Pain shot through my ankles as my bare feet hit the pavement and I crumpled to my hands and knees. Shocked, but too afraid to give the pain any attention, I scanned the area around me.

  One end of the building was too dark for me to make anything out; at the other end a brightly lit road was visible, about twenty metres away. The area looked like a typical city centre with skyscrapers and flashing lights and lots of traffic. Immediately across the road, I could see a public park with palm trees and a central fountain. The sight of the park kindled a memory of safety and protection.

  My options were limited. Fear motivated, I crawled in the direction of the park while keeping a frantic look-out for anyone watching or following me. I couldn’t make out any figures inside the cars parked higher up the street, but didn’t wait for my eyes to adjust and headed on.

  As rushed as my escape attempt was, I couldn’t quite get rid of the heavy feeling pulling me back. I was moving slower than a snail, but my heart was doing its best to keep up. The wet pavement smeared my poor coat heavily as I dragged it along. It was an absolute mess, but it was cold outside, and I put it on.

  I had no idea how to cross the road without drawing too much attention. With shaking hands and a determined mind, I continued. This wasn’t the time for self-pity and dejection.

  After a few more paces, I became aware of the pain again. My ankles were throbbing and the skin was coming off my hands and knees, so I stopped for a short rest.

  By the time I reached the corner, my hands were completely raw. I knew I had to stand up. I collected my guts and stood up slowly. At first it was okay, just standing, but as I took the first step, I almost fell back to my knees. It took all my concentration to stay focused on the target and ignore the pain and exhaustion.

  As I moved out of the shadows, the blood on my hands and knees was glaringly obvious and I closed the buttons of my dirt- and blood-smeared coat. Luckily it covered most of my knees. An elderly woman stared at me from a taxi waiting at the traffic light. Her gaze urged me into motion. A girl with bare feet in the rain, blood on her hands and knees and a skimpy little hospital gown sticking out of a dirtied coat was sure to draw attention. Fortunately, she was at such a distance that I doubted she could have seen the glow around my hands.

  Each individual step was pure agony and when I finally reached the edge of the park, I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. I collapsed in the middle of some dense shrubbery and gave myself over to the hopelessness of the situation.

  A wave of nausea hit me at the memory of home. Only a few days ago I was safe, back at home, with my mother taking care of me and making me a dish of mac-and-cheese whenever things got tough.

  After a while, the smell of the moist, muddy earth had a calming and soporific effect. I turned on my side and looked up. A small piece of the crescent moon was just visible in the cloudy sky.

  To be honest, I didn’t know if it was the relief of being safe or of being off my feet that made me feel better so quickly, but for some strange reason, the pain and the heaviness weren’t that bad any more. It crept out of me and dissipated into the mud. Under normal circumstances, a mud bath would have me grossed out, but it was heaven lying there against the rock-hard pavement.

  “You are so strong; you just need to realize it.”

  Duncan’s words were so clear that I thought at first he was standing next to me. I pushed myself up and looked around, but there was nobody near. I sat completely still and listened for movement, but I could hear nothing but the raindrops, the rhythmic beating of my heart and the city night traffic further away.

  “You are from this earth, the earth that will heal and protect you.”

  His face was as clear in my mind as the moon shining out from the clouds in the night sky was to my eyes. He was with me.

  “There is so much more to this earth than everybody thinks. It’s alive… Actually, SHE is alive.”

  I waited until the sun came up for an explanation, but Duncan was gone.

  The rays of the morning sun brou
ght some clarity to my spinning mind. The walk back to the dormitory also helped, at least to process things a little.

  My emotions had jumped from surprise to awe to confusion when I discovered that my ankles, knees and palms were completely healed. And from what I could see, the glowing fumes now covered my whole body, not only my hands. The glow was very faint and it had a deep blue shine to it. I was afraid that others would see it, so I pulled my coat as far down as possible over my legs but it didn’t help much. However, my reflection in the mirror of a public restroom about two blocks from the park gave me courage: my glow wasn’t visible.

  Both hunger and thirst tormented me so I pushed on. I chose the opposite direction, away from the hospital and kept up a steady pace. I did get a few frowns and funny stares on my way, but the reactions were mild and I was sure nobody saw anything too far out of the ordinary.

  Only once did I start to worry - the Subway sandwich shop attendant who gave me directions stared a little longer than anybody else. But it might have been because of my growling stomach. I probably would have frowned too, if a mud-bathed bare-footed mop-headed girl asked me for directions to a dormitory somewhere on the other side of town. To be honest, if it hadn’t been for my troubled mood I probably would have laughed at myself.

  I had plenty of time to think about everything, but my thoughts were distracted every time my eye caught a glimpse of a glowing limb. The glow emphasized the connection I felt with him, and I simply couldn’t believe Duncan had left me in the dark with a mystery so big. I convinced myself he had left me a message somewhere in my room.

  I reached the dorm around noon. The parking lot in front of the dormitory was packed. My station wagon was exactly where I had left it, but the trunk was empty. I rushed as fast as possible into the building. Expecting a message with answers, my hunger was completely forgotten. A girl stopped me on the stairs on my way to my room but I didn’t listen to her conversation and the poor girl must have realized quickly that I was preoccupied, because she didn’t stand there for long.

  When I entered my room, the hairs on my arms stood up. Everything was covered in a bright white glow, with the densest concentration around my luggage waiting neatly in the middle of the floor.

  I should have expected something strange, considering everything that had happened over the past week!

  When I eventually picked up my biggest suitcase, a little electric shock went through my hand and turned my own glow white around my fingers. The white parts immediately felt hotter than the rest of my hand.

  Hope welled up in my heart.

  It took no more than two minutes to unpack everything.

  No message. My phone didn’t have any messages either.

  I even considered disassembling the microwave but realized that was too unlikely.

  I sat down on the floor, disappointed and frustrated. I wanted answers and Duncan was the key to the mystery but I didn’t know how to contact him, or even if I would see him again.

  Trying to compose myself, I argued that there probably hadn’t been time, or perhaps it was too dangerous to leave a message. I wished I could talk to my mother and tell her what had happened, but I didn’t have the courage to put things into words yet. I decided to text her instead, as I didn’t trust my emotional stability. Also, she had an unrivalled ability to read between the lines and come to the correct conclusions.

  “Mom Im @ the dorm. Don’t worry. Felt betr & left hosp. Luv u, c u soon.”

  Her response came five minutes later.

  “Im so relieved dear. Take care of yourself. Come visit soon. Miss you very much. Love.”

  Comforted by her message, I got up from the floor. My stomach growled again and I grabbed one of my mom’s rusks. I had to clean up first before I went out for lunch.

  It was only in the shower that the thought came up that Duncan had quite possibly never touched my luggage. Only the guy from the parking lot who warned me against the seniors’ parking spaces had.

  I immediately discarded the idea that he was also in on the strangeness.

  ***