C.E. Murphy - Thunderbird Falls

The phone rang on my way out the door. My stomach seized up and I ran back, snatching it out of the cradle. A woman demanded, “Are you alive?”

“What?” God, my voice sounded as dreadful as it had in the desert. I cleared it and tried again. “I mean, yes.”

“This is Phoebe. You were supposed to be here fifty minutes ago. Fencing lesson?”

“Oh. Oh, God. I’m sorry. Last night got kind of weird.” I felt the snake’s weight slither around my shoulders, settling more comfortably. That was just so totally not cool I couldn’t even begin to express it. The tortoise was much more circumspect. I knew he was there somewhere, waiting for me to need him. I liked that a lot more than the slithery snake. “I just got home. I’m on my way to work. I completely spaced it.”

“Everything okay?” I could hear the frown in her voice.

“Yeah. More or less. Look, I’ve really got to go, so I’ll call you back and reschedule later, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. I just wanted to be sure you were okay.”

I wondered what she’d say if I said, “Sure, fine, except the sunburn that isn’t there, the lack of sleep, the thirty-pound snake on my shoulders, and the way the lights keep imploding their color.” Fortunately for both of us, I didn’t really want to say it, and instead said, “Thanks for checking up on me. I’ll call. Bye.” I hung up and made a break for the great outdoors and Petite.

The sky went yellow and the sun went black when I stepped outside. I flung my equipment bag into Petite’s passenger seat, dropped into the driver seat, and fumbled for my sunglasses, wondering if the traffic lights were going freak out the way the rest of the lights were. That would be a real pain in the ass. I tried to remember if the order was red-yellow-green or red-green-yellow as I drove down the street.

It was red-yellow-green, but watching the yellow burst into incandescent blue was so interesting I ran the light and nearly T-boned a Camero. I didn’t blame the guy for leaning on his horn. After that I bit my tongue and paid significant attention to what I was doing.

By the time I reached the hospital I’d figured it out. The color inversion wasn’t a constant: it just happened when light changed, and then faded back to normal. I’d be okay for the day as long as I was cautious, though I’d have to hope I wouldn’t need to identify any runaway vehicles, because my first glance at anything seemed to come up with entirely the wrong colors.

Colin’s pale hair looked black and silky as death, for example. It faded back into blond as I sat down by his bed, grinning crookedly at him. He opened one eye and lifted an eyebrow. “Couldn’t get enough of me, huh?”

“Guess not.” My voice fell into that irritatingly quiet hospital voice that people use. “How you doing?”

“Better, with an Amazon visiting me. They killed off their sick and weak, you know. For the good of the tribe.”

My eyebrows went up too. “I didn’t know. I don’t think they mentioned that in the comic books.”

“Different kind of Amazon. You could be one of that kind.” he said, looking me over critically. “Except, no offense, you’ve got nothing on Lynda Carter.”

I laughed out loud, shaking the hospital voice off. “You’re not old enough to know who Lynda Carter is.”

“Dude,” he said, sincerely, “I’m not dead .”

I laughed again. “And ‘not dead’ is all it takes?”

“Damn straight,” Colin said with a nod, then sank back into the covers, looking weary.

“Hey,” I said, quiet again. “I can only stay for a minute, okay? But I wanted to come by and say hi. Say a couple words of Amazon healing over you, that sort of thing, huh?”

Colin smiled without opening his eyes again. “Every little bit helps. Thanks, Joanne.”

I put my hand on his shoulder. The snake didn’t need telling; it just coiled its way down from my shoulders to wrap itself around Colin’s.

My vision smashed into inversion, the walls and bed, Colin’s white skin and blond hair, all going black with hard shimmering blue edges. The lights overhead seemed to pop out, emitting blackness, and for a moment I could see the spirit-snake, his pale tans and browns all gone to blue and greens like they had in the Lower World. I jerked my hand off Colin’s shoulder and put it to my head. He opened his eyes, frowning. “Joanne?”

“It’s…I’ve got something weird going on with my vision this morning. It’s okay. It just went all freaky.” The effect was fading now, although the edges of things seemed a little dimmer, still hanging on to their reversed colors.

“You’ve probably got a brain tumor,” Colin said cheerfully. I gaped at him, then laughed silently, shoulders shaking.

“Thank you. Thanks, Colin, that makes me feel a lot better.” Please , I asked the snake. Give him the strength and protection he needs. Thank you. I’ll do my best to honor you . I smiled, partly for the snake and partly for Colin. I’ll heed my teacher .

My vision popped black again, and I fumbled my way out of the hospital, hoping I’d make it to work on time.

I clocked in no more than two minutes late. The precinct building lights snapped to inverse colors every time I opened a door, and I tripped over backwardly shadowed stairs and my own feet three times trying to get to the front door. Getting outside into the heat and morning sunlight was almost a relief. At least it was consistent, even if every breath I dragged in tasted of overheated street tar and dust.

At lunch I radioed Bruce at the front desk and asked him to punch me out so I’d have more time to go visit Gary. He told me that was illegal and did it anyway.

I felt a little silly pulling into the hospital parking lot in the patrol car, as if there ought to be a dire emergency that justified the black and white. A couple of visitors gave me curious looks as I strode through the parking lot, suddenly in a hurry to see the old man.

He was in PT when I got there. A critical nurse examined me from head to toe before asking, “Are you his daughter?”

Out of the various questions I’d expected upon showing up in uniform, that wasn’t one of them. I tried counting on my fingers how old Gary’d have been when he fathered me if I were his daughter and came up with a reasonable number as an answer. “Yes. I’m also on lunch break, so do you think I could maybe see him, please?”

“Well.” The nurse tapped lacquered nails against the desk, examining me again. “I suppose. But if the therapist says no, you’ll have to go immediately, miss.”

For the first time in my life I had to swallow the urge to correct her with “Officer.” It took a couple of seconds, and then I put on a cheery smile and said, “Sure, of course.”

Her expression said I wasn’t fooling anyone. “Second floor.”

“Thank you.” I got out of there at a brisk pace, uncertain how long my bout of transparent politeness was going to last.

The PT room had half a dozen patients in it. None of them looked particularly patient, least of all Gary, who bore the expression of a constipated rhino as he trod a treadmill. A cute blond woman sat in a chair beside the treadmill, saying, “Two minutes,” in a voice that wasn’t so much encouraging as it was uncompromising. She gave me a gimlet stare and I pointed to a chair near hers, eyes wide in a question. She pursed her lips, eyed her watch, and nodded once, sharply. I scurried past Gary to the chair, giving him a broad wink that I was pretty sure the PT couldn’t see. He cracked a slow grin that brightened him up all over, and picked up his pace a bit.

He looked better. Much better, like the vitality I was used to seeing in him had been replenished wholesale and the only reason he was there was because they wouldn’t let him go home yet. A little bubble of joy lit up inside me. I hadn’t been able to properly fix his heart, but maybe the energy I’d lent him had done some good. Even with my vision flipping inside-out, he looked better. I sat there grinning stupidly until the therapist said, “Cool down,” and slowed the treadmill. After another minute, she glanced from her watch to me to Gary. “Five minutes. Drink water.” Then she got up and left, leaving me grinning after her.