TONDER Chapter 10

For two days, the examinations continued in what would appear the usual procedure for a patient of this hospital, except for the appearances of the staff and patients. At one time I counted the number of those marked with black eyes until those numbers reached a level too great for me to keep accurate count. I didn’t believe that I would grow accustomed to the appearances and didn’t believe that I had, but I certainly became less shocked at the appearances than my first initial exposure as my mingling among them became more frequent. Their appearances had become tolerable. During our moments of interaction, the blackened smoke that hung over their heads would engulf my body, circulating and dancing as if joyful. I assumed that the smoke-like apparitions were casting no apparent threat to me during a recent physical examination given to me by Dr. Borlan. During our contact, my body would become fully immersed but I never felt any physical threat from them; I felt nothing. It seemed to wander around my body as if seeking or perhaps basking in my positive air; possibly longing for something of their past. I learned to relax, observe, and play the spectator on this seemingly neutral playground of my being. 

I awoke on Saturday morning with the air of anticipation that I would be released and begin my adjustment to this new life. I had witnessed those familiar black, marbled eyes every day since the awakening and had discerned slight differences in those marked from those that were not. I assumed that there must be a hierarchy of those marked as the evidence of evil seemed prominent in some. It seemed that those with more definitive marking also possessed a less comforting demeanor; perhaps one of suffering or hate toward those around them. I still could not dissimulate those that were freshly marked from those marked for lengths of time however it seemed that the more extreme tags were left upon those of greater power. Perhaps those more influential had brought more evil within their lives in their journey to rise above the norms of day to day living. Dr. Borlan, one of the more prominently marked, entered my room to find me packing away personal belongings and gathering gifts of balloons and flowers in preparation for my discharge. By now I had grown accustomed to his appearance and had developed a sense of pity toward him and his sorrowful condition. I could not deny feeling somewhat threatened and angered by my intimidated thoughts. I felt this especially when he spoke. 

“Mr. Abel, I see that you are ready to leave?” 

“You’re right, Doc, I am ready to get home to my family. They should be here in a few minutes to pick me up.” 

“I should tell you that I would like to see you take it easy for a while. Even though we found nothing to justify your seizure, you have still suffered a pretty good blow to the head from your fall. Just take a few weeks off from work and schedule an appointment with your family doctor and have him take a look at you. I think that you are going to be just fine but I was a little worried for you, I mean if you could see yourself through my eyes you would have been pretty concerned.” 

A long stream of sarcasm dripped from my voice. 

“I’m sure that I would see things differently though your eyes; I’m sure of that.” 

“Well, Mr. Abel, take care of yourself and I hope that things go well for you. Please call me if you need anything. 

Dr. Borlan extended his open palm to shake my hand, and as I grasped it firmly the thick, black smoke again gleefully extended from his eye sockets and encircled my head, surrounding me completely while blocking my view of his treacherous face. As we parted hands, the smoke receded to their blackened nests making him once again visible for me to witness his smiling face amidst the array of evil. He turned and left the room leaving me alone in my thoughts to await the arrival of Lynn and Doyle. I felt excited to return home with them in time for our weekend. 

As I packed my socks into the duffle bag that Lynn had brought to me I heard the familiar shuffle of a child’s sneakers in the hallway accompanied by the pleasant clacking of high heel shoes. The high pitched greeting from my son caused me to turn abruptly to greet them in the doorway. 

“Daddy!” 

“Hello Doyle! Daddy has missed you!” 

Then, the sweet tone of Lynn’s soft, throaty question followed our greeting; her eye’s never parting from me and peering upward as she lowered her lips to Doyle’s ear. 

“Doyle, ask Daddy if he’s ready to go home.” 

“You don’t have to ask, Son,  Daddy’s more than ready!” 

I gathered my son into my arms as my wife followed closely beside me carrying balloons, flowers and assorted cards from well-wishers and family. We journeyed through the halls of the hospital, down the elevator, and past the hollowed eyes of the elderly lady stationed to greet those entering the hospital. One final look behind me into her steely, shadowed eyes and we continued out of the doors and on to our waiting car. As I seated myself into the front seat the black interior had seemed to absorb all of the heat of the morning sun and expelled it into my face as I positioned myself to kiss my wife upon her cheek. 

We drove home without speaking much of my hospital stay and most of the afternoon was kept relaxed and light hearted. I found myself uninterested in television as it seemed most of the persons on the screen were hideous to me. Only cartoons provided a replacement to headline news which proved a joy to my son and a mystery to my wife. The most challenging adjustment seemed to be dealing with the revealing photographs throughout our home and the truth that they displayed within their elegant frames. I discovered a number of friends that appeared marked as well as many of those who had passed before me. A certain relief laid in the knowledge that my father was not marked as I suspected he would not be. 

Lynn approached me from behind to find a tarnished silver frame cradled in my hands, encasing a faded picture of my mother and me. The photo always exemplified a carefree memory for me as it depicted a young boy of three years old seated in a faded red kiddie car. On the back of the car was a sticker that read STP which I clearly remember placing on the back for decoration. My bare feet were soiled from playing in the dirt where a garage was later erected and the child dressed in nothing more than plaid shorts. In those days I remember an abundance of dirt and sand in the areas where the grass did not grow. In the foreground stood my mother dressed in black stretch pants that lowered just even with her calf and a yellow sweat shirt that displayed United States Marine Corp; a remnant from my father’s days of basic training. The style of her hair long since past, but it was not the style or the memories but the curse upon this aged photograph that forced the tears from my eyes. Her once brown eyes of her Spanish heritage could not been seen any longer as they had been replaced by the cursed blackness and the marbled glaze of evilness. Her smile beneath her small rounded nose appeared unchanged as the rest of the photo did except for the cursed, clouded eyes. My stomach weakened at the sight of the picture as my memories tarnished like the frame surrounding it. I sat in silence sobbing to myself until Lynn’s soft hand laid upon my shoulder awakening me from the despair. 

“Sutter, are you o.k.?” 

“You know, I thought that I would be, but I feel like I am going insane. A person lives his life as clean and pure as he is taught, and for what? What is the reason for any of this?” 

“I think that you should put the pictures away and come outside with me and Doyle. He’s built a tent in the back yard and is wondering if you are going to play.” 

“Lynn, I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t know if I am strong enough to deal with all of this junk. I mean, if I were blind, maybe I would feel less pain?” 

“Sutter you are not making any sense. Maybe you should lie down and take a nap. This whole day of coming home may be a little too much for one day.” 

“It’s not that. Listen, if you woke up tomorrow and found out that I was disfigured and you could not look at me in the face, would you still feel the same? What if everyone that you looked at was ugly and grotesque, could you live in a world like that?” 

Lynn moved in closer placing her arms around my shoulders and settled a light kiss upon my ear. The smell of her body captured me immediately, reviving my recently lost sense of hope. 

“Sutter Abel, I love you. I don’t care what you look like or what kind of world that we’ve got to live in as long as we are living it together. If that is the way that you see me or see the world now, just know that I am the same woman that you married and I will stand beside you no matter what.” 

“Thank you. Be patient with me. I’ve got a lot of things to sort out and I will need you to be strong when I cannot. I am sorry for acting a fool lately. Maybe I will take that nap.”

I kissed her gently on her satin lips and embraced her tightly, pulling her feather soft body into mine. We stood motionless for a brief moment until Doyle summoned from the backyard that his castle was complete. The image from the picture haunted me down the hall and to my room where I found my bed awaiting me. Images of my father, in all of his strength, appeared in my mind along with questions of how he loved my mother if he could indeed see as I do. As if exhausted from running, my lungs ached for rest and my temples throbbed as blood pulsed to them. I lay across the bed and fell into a deep sleep; a sleep that you feel when you have been awake for days. The images continued to pass in and out of my head until at long last I was able to rest peacefully.