Shaun Jeffrey - Dead Man's Eye

A second later the man moved, his legs twitching. Then he sat up and grabbed the severed limb. Despite the distance, Joanna thought the sliced end looked like a cut of meat marbled with fat and muscle. But strangest of all was that although the man’s arm had been severed, he had what appeared to be a black limb protruding from the shoulder.

The man started to stand, and a strange black shadow surrounded him like a dark phosphorous corona. The nimbus was so black, it looked like an absolute absence of light, as though the man had been carved out of his surroundings.

Joanna covered her face with her hands. Either her eyes were playing tricks on her, or she was going mad…

She shuddered. Maybe there was something even worse than a world of darkness.

“So Miss Raines, what’s the problem?”

Joanna stared at the doctor and exhaled slowly. Where should she start? With the fear of her transplant being rejected? Or with the fear that she might be going mad? Neither option seemed appealing, but weighing them together, she plumped for the former.

“I’m worried about the transplant. My eye feels scratchy, and when I blink, it hurts.”

“Okay, let me have a look.” He leaned forwards and scrutinised her eye. “Look up,” he said. “Now look down.” After a moment, he nodded. “The end of one of the stitches is sticking up, and when you blink, it’s causing it to rub. I can soon fix that.”

Joanna watched as he donned a pair of gloves and sterilised a pair of scissors. Although her eyesight wasn’t clear and she now doubted what she had seen, she couldn’t get the image of the one-armed man out of her head, blood gushing from the stump of his arm.

Then there was the blackness that infiltrated his body. The more she thought about it, the more she realised how ridiculous it was. What she had seen must have been a shadow, that’s all.

“Alright, Miss Raines, just lean back,” the doctor said as he stood over her and held her eyelid open with his fingers.

Joanna watched as the scissors headed towards her eyeball, growing more blurred the closer they came. She cringed. One slip and he would pierce her eye like a grape.

The need to blink became almost overpowering and she felt tears rolling down her cheek. She felt a slight irritation, then heard the scissors snick together and the doctor drew back.

“There you go, that should be better. Just try not to move your eye around a lot.”

Joanna prepared herself, and then blinked. The scratchy feeling had gone and she blinked another couple of times, savouring in the relief.

“How’s that?” the doctor asked.

“Feels fine.”

“Now is there anything else I can help you with? You’re looking very pale.”

Realising the doctor was waiting for her to reply, she shook her head. “No, everything’s fine.”

“Good. The epithelium on the surface of the eye is growing back well. Just remember to keep using the eye drops.”

After thanking the doctor, Joanna walked out of the room and into the corridor of Temple Hospital. Paintings of trees, fields and mountains adorned the clinical white walls like windows, belying the fact they were in the heart of the city.

Patients, staff and visitors bustled around Joanna, causing her to pause for a moment to allow her eyes to rest as she tried to focus her gaze.

“Hey Jo, what you doing here?”

Joanna looked up and saw her boyfriend, Stephen Cook.

“I had an appointment with the doctor.”

“You didn’t tell me. I’d have driven you in if you’d said.”

“It was a last minute thing.”

Stephen frowned. “Why, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. My eye was a little itchy, that’s all. The doc’s sorted it now.” Stephen nodded, tongue poking from the corner of his mouth, something he

always did when he was concerned or nervous. He looked at her with his chocolate brown eyes, dark hair neatly combed to make him look presentable at his reception desk in the A & E department.

“Are you sure you’re alright? You don’t look very well,” he said.

Joanna nodded, then shook her head and sighed. “There was an accident at the train station earlier. A man fell on the track and a train cut his arm off.”

“You mean Lincoln Parker. Yes, I processed him not long ago.”

“I saw him fall on the track.” She took a breath, inhaling the sterile aroma of the hospital. “It was awful. There was so much blood.”

“Jesus Jo, I didn’t know. Do you want to sit down?”

“No, I’m fine. It was just… it was awful.”

“I can imagine. Well, I can’t actually.” He stepped forwards and put an arm around her shoulder, squeezed tightly and kissed her on the cheek before stepping back, looking awkward.

Missing the warmth of his touch, Joanna held her arms out and he stepped into them and gave her a hug, their fledgling relationship still in the uncomfortable stage as they tested boundaries.

After a moment, they separated, and an embarrassing silence ensued until Joanna said, “That man that lost his arm… Is he going to be ok?”

“I guess so. I mean he’s strong. Did you see the size of him?”

“He said he was a bodybuilder.”

“You spoke to him?”

“He sat next to me on the platform.”

“Well I’ll tell you what, when they wheeled him in, you wouldn’t believe he’d just had his arm severed. Bloke was as chipper as someone who’d just won the lottery.”

Joanna frowned. “So he was conscious.”

“Yeah. Shock affects people in different ways. I think I would have passed out.”

“Where is he now?”

“In the operating room. They’re trying to save his arm but they had a hell of a job getting it off him as he wouldn’t let go of it!”

Joanna wondered whether she should tell Stephen what she had seen, but then thought better of it.

She remembered the first time they met in the hospital café after she accidentally spilt a cup of tea over him. Luckily, the tea hadn’t been too hot and they started talking, hit it off, and had now been going out with each other for a month, and she didn’t want him to think she was crazy.

Stephen looked at his watch. “I’ve got to get back to work. What are you going to do now?”

“As I’m in town, I thought I might do a bit of shopping.”

“Well take it easy and don’t overdo it. You know you’re supposed to rest your eyes.”

“Ok Doctor Cook.” She smiled.

“Well I wouldn’t like to think that you couldn’t see me in all my glory.”

“Hmm, there’s nothing like blowing your own trumpet.”

“Well if you won’t blow it for me, I have to do it myself.”

“So you’re a contortionist too!”

Stephen blushed. “I was talking metaphorically.”

Joanna liked the way Stephen got embarrassed so easily; the colour bleeding into his cheeks made him look cute. “So you mean you can’t blow it yourself.”

“If only.”

“Then I guess I’d better loosen my lips.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to seduce me.”

“You wish.”

“We could always work on it.” He winked then looked at his watch again. “I’ve really got to go now. If you’re still around later, I get off at five.”

“And what, you want me to watch?”

Stephen went a deeper shade of red. “I meant get off work.”

“Sure you did.” Joanna grinned. “I’ll see how I feel later on.” She kissed him quickly on the lips and then walked away, chuckling.

Walking around the shops tired Joanna more than she thought and by the time she arrived back at the hospital to meet Stephen, her eyes were stinging. The eye drops helped relieve some of the pain, but the thought of returning to the train station made her feel a little queasy, which is why she waited for Stephen to give her a lift home in his car.