THE MISSING LINK
WHEN PUCK WOKE up, he thought he'd gone blind.
"Shit shit shit!" he screeched, jumping out of bed and ramming into his nightstand. It fell over noisily, waking up, he was sure, just about everybody else in the college. He reached out to try and straighten it only to topple over himself.
"Nuts!" He began looking around wildly; he could tell it was daytime, the room was light; but he couldn't see the room itself. [Note--how can Puck's room be light when he has no windows...?] Colors swirled around him, and even they seemed to be fading fast.
He decided right then and there he should probably get help.
He made his way to the door, yanking it open and stumbling into the hall. Several other students had heard the commotion and were gaping out of their doors; they only ducked back as he stumbled past. Finally someone grabbed him by the arm and hauled him towards the wall; he screeched again and flung up an arm as the wall whooshed forward to greet him. But another arm rammed into his chest and knocked the breath out of him.
"Hey! Cool it!" a familiar voice said.
Puck gasped for air, and then let it out. It was Victor Tasubo, a "friend" of his, who'd spoken; Tasubo had been a roommate of his for a brief period, before mutual differences had forced them apart. Now he lived in the room with the smiley face on the door. Puck shook his head violently and tried to squint up, but only a vague blur greeted him.
"Shit, Puck!" Tass's voice exclaimed. Just what I was thinking. "What the hell happened to you?"
"What happened to me?" Puck parroted, too dazed to answer.
Tasubo evidently understood that Puck didn't know what he meant. "Your eyes, man--what, have you been staring at klieg lights or something?"
"What do you mean?" Puck tripped over his own foot, nearly falling over. A female student squawked and backed away.
"Well, God, idiot! I assume you can't see anything--can you walk--?"
He felt his arm go loose; Tasubo let him go and he howled and fell over, just about taking another student with him. The others, standing around, started going back into their rooms, probably for their own protection.
"Guess not," Tass grunted, and helped Puck to his feet. Puck shook his head again and blinked; hazy colors swirled around him. He could just barely begin to make things out. "Come on, I'll take you down to the first aid center. You think you can make it?"
"Yeah, sure," Puck replied, dazedly. Tasubo took him by the arm and led him to the stairs.
"What's going on?"
Anders's voice now, sounding sleepy. "He's got a hangover or somethin'," Tass said, and Puck snarled at him.
"I do not!" he snapped. "Something's been wrong with my eyes--"
"Shit! Nuts!" Still Anders; Puck would have whirled around with surprise at that obscenity coming from him had not he felt so dizzy. "Puck, Tass, you're taking him to the first aid center--"
"Yeah, right now. Why--"
"Look at him! Look at that!"
"Nuts." Tass this time, barely whispering. Puck felt something brush his left ear. "Hey, Puck, maybe you should lie down or something, and I'll bring a doctor here."
"Why?" Puck reached up a hand to touch his ear; he was startled when it came back wet. He tried to squint at it through the blur that was his sight.
The color red swirled before him.
"Wow," was all he could say, before he slipped from Tass's grip and fell to his knees.
Voices swirled around like the colors in his head now, all mixing together so he couldn't tell which was which--
"Holy--!"
"--You too--"
"--Going on around here--"
"--What the hell--"
"--Gonna be sick--"
"--All over the hallway--"
"--Calling a doctor now!--"
"--Puck? Puck?--"
Finally, they all just mixed together and faded out.
Julie awoke that morning with a splitting headache, feeling like someone had jabbed a skewer through her left eye. She groaned as she pulled herself out of bed, going to the mirror and shuffling around for some aspirin. When she finally found it she looked up and--
Screamed as soon as she noticed just how red and bloodshot her left eye was.
Puck stayed in a daze as the others trundled him off to the first aid center; he was dimly aware of being wrapped up in a blanket and stuck on a wheel-around chair, then put in the elevator. [Note--if this scene here is based on real-life events, then I can precisely date this story to 1995-97 or later, seeing as I went through this same treatment after passing out in a college science class.] Then he was wheeled out into the cold air; immediately he began shaking terribly, and then he was being pulled out of the chair and lifted onto a table, and the lights around him were bright and white, and there were figures around him, and they were all looking down at him, and one shone a brilliant light right in his face--
"Puck." Something terrible wafted before his nostrils; he gagged and coughed. "Hey, Puck," the voice said again. "You feeling okay? You still with us?"
"What the--" Puck coughed again and brushed the hand holding the terrible smell away. [Note--that happened to me too, on a different occasion. Also because I had passed out.] "Where am I?"
"First aid center," Tasubo's voice replied. "You nearly passed out in the dorm."
"Yeah, I--I think I kind of remember--what's wrong? Why'm I here?"
"Man, you passed out, man! [Note--no, Tass does not talk like a hippie. The way I depict him in this story is totally lame.] And your eyes--and your ear--"
"What about my ear?"
"Didn't you see it? God, you've got blood comin' out your ear--"
"Tilt your head, please," a female voice--he assumed it was a nurse--said, and he felt a hand push his head back while the light shone in his eyes. He tried to push it away too.
"Stop that," he hissed, blinking furiously as tears streamed down his face. "They hurt, okay?"
"Have you been working without a welding mask?"
"Huh?"
"In Metals, I assume. Working without a--"
"I don't even take Metals, damn it!" Puck forced himself up, aggravated, pushing away all the arms coming at him. [Note--yes, misuse of the word "aggravated."] "My eyes are just tired--"
"Well, my experience tells me they're not," the nurse said defensively. "Now, if you'll just tell me what you've been--"
"I've been sleeping!" He pulled himself off the table, only to have an arm block his chest; Tass and the nurse hauled him back up. Giving up, he flailed his arms at them, forcing them to back away. "I've been having migraines, and my eyes've been buggin [sic] me," he snapped. "It's probably from working at the computer all day. I do not take Metals."
"I've got that class," Tass said to the nurse. "He isn't in it."
"Well, this can't be from just computers...just lie back, tilt your head back, and I'll give you something for that, okay?" In a condescending tone.
"Sure, yeah," Puck muttered, lying back on the pillow. It felt strangely comforting, being in the first aid center; he never thought he'd feel that way. The room fell silent for a moment, then another light was put over his head. He grimaced and shut his eyes.
"Open, please." A hand forced his right eye open, and he could feel the tears pouring down his cheek. Something cool squirted into his eye, and he blinked. The same thing happened with his left eye. "Shut now, please." He did so, trying to refrain from reaching up and rubbing them. "Now I'm going to put a cool cloth over your eyes for a few minutes, and I want you to leave it there, and not touch your eyes."
"I've got classes to go to, ma'am."
"Well, right now you don't. Just sit there and do what I say."
Puck snorted again, but took the cloth and held it in place when she walked away. He could feel Tass put his hand on the bedding and sigh.
"Rough night?" was all he said.
"Listen, nothing even happened last night. It's just the computer, and the weather--it's been pretty dry out lately."
"Yeah, but I don't see anybody else's eyes watering up as bad as yours. God, they're swollen big as golf balls."
"Thanks, Tass."
"And they're all red."
"Yeah, Tass."
"And real gushy."
"Shut up, Tass!"
"Yeah, yeah. Oh, here she comes again."
Something pressed against his left ear; he gasped and jerked away. It was more of a reflex motion than one of pain, but as soon as he did so it felt as if a lance had been thrust through his head; he choked back a sob and grasped his head on both sides, the cloth dropping to his lap.
"Crap." The nurse this time. "Lie back and hold still." He did so, biting his lip; the cloth returned and his ear was pressed again. He bit his lip till it hurt.
"She's putting a compress on your ear, Puck," Tass explained.
"Put your hand right here, okay?" Puck reached up and held the compress in place. He heard Tass chuckle.
"One more thing stuck to you, and you'll look like a giant--"
"I'm not in the mood for jokes, Tass, okay?" Puck grumbled, his voice a little harsher than he'd intended. He felt Tasubo's hand leave the bed.
"Yeah, sure." Sounding a little hurt. [Note--Tass is acting kind of out of character. He usually cares as little about what people think of him as Puck does.] Puck sighed. "Whatever. Listen, I'm going to go check up on Anders now, okay? You hang tight. If you miss anything I'll get your homework for you."
"Hold on." Puck nearly sat up, but stopped himself right in time. "Anders? What're you talking about?"
"God, Puck, don't you remember? In the hallway? When your ear started bleedin'?"
"No, I don't. What happened?"
"Well, he got a nosebleed. Real bad. He insisted on comin' over here too. Even though I told him it was only a nosebleed."
Puck felt a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. This seemed too familiar; he remembered last summer, when Anders had gotten his first nosebleed, and another memory surfaced as well; how he'd gotten a terrible earache, and collapsed at the edge of the highway. There had been a terrible ringing in his head, like tinnitus; but did tinnitus give you earbleeds?
He sighed again as the nurse and Tasubo moved away, and tried to calm his nerves. The room grew silent. He stayed there for a little while, but eventually began to wonder where everybody had gone, so got up and left the room, removing the compresses. He could see everything clearly now, and he felt okay. He went outside.
It was sunny outside, and the trees were all green. He stopped on the campus common and looked around, feeling lost. To his left was a great wall of blackness. To his right was the same. He was completely trapped, blocked in. [Note--that happened to me--from the same incident as the smelling salts. That was the dream I had while I was passed out after receiving a shot, only in my version I was standing in my front yard. It was pretty awesome.]
"Hey, Puck."
A very soft voice. He felt his consciousness returning in a haze, and tried to open his eyes. Everything was cool, white, and fuzzy. Then he remembered his eyes were covered with the cloth, and pulled it off, squinting at the sudden flood of light.
At first everything was too blurry to make out; but then shapes started forming, and a face, and he could finally see Anders bending over, looking down at him. He was holding another cloth to his nose, and looked concerned. When Puck looked up at him he drew back slightly.
"Wow," he said, his voice nearly a whisper. "What's wrong with your eyes?"
"I don't know." He got up, still holding the compress to his ear, and made his way over to a mirror at the other side of the room. He could see everything now; it was just a little fuzzy. Looking in the mirror, he saw why the others had been so shocked. His eyes were swollen almost shut, so that he had to force them open, as if bees had stung his eyelids; the eyes beneath were bright red and bloodshot, so that the pale gray-green of his irises showed up in stark contrast. Tears still trickled down his cheeks. He was shocked himself.
"Wow," he echoed both Anders and himself.
"How's your ear doing?"
"Oh. I don't know." He removed the compress, and recoiled at the sight of the blood upon it. "Ugh. Looks like it's stopped. What about your nose?"
Anders shrugged and removed the cloth. "Seems okay, now. It was really pouring for a couple minutes there." Puck noticed now that his friend was shaking slightly, had been since he'd entered. He realized that he was trembling also. "I just wish I knew why we both--how it happened that--well, you know."
"Yeah, hell I do."
Anders forced a half smile, which quickly disappeared. "I wonder how Julie's doing right now."
"Julie? Julie who--oh." Puck frowned. "Why? You starting to think maybe she is involved somehow?"
"I don't know. But don't you find it kind of odd that we both start bleeding right at the same time?" Anders fell quiet, looking thoughtful. "Your left ear, is it, Puck?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"My left nostril." Anders motioned to his nose, and shrugged, offering another smile. "See a pattern emerging?"
Puck just stared at him. It was surprising to think that only several months ago this guy was a total nobeliever. "Maybe I do. Do you think there is one to see?"
Another shrug. "That's up to Julie to provide."
Julie blinked back the tears furiously as the bright light moved over and over her swollen eye. "Seems okay," Dr. Pennethorne mused. "I'm no doctor of medicine but I think maybe you just got something in it."
"That's all?" Julie pulled away from the light, rubbing her sore eye furiously and looking up at him with her other one. The psychologist sighed and shrugged.
"Like I said, you'd be better off seeing the other doctors in the clinic. I could refer you to Dr.--"
"No, that's okay. I just wanted to know if it was anything serious." She shuddered.
He shrugged again, clicking off his penlight and returning it to his coat pocket. "I didn't see anything terribly wrong. Like I said, you probably just got something in it. A hair or maybe a piece of dust. The weather's been dry out lately. That might be aggravating it further."
"Yeah, maybe."
He frowned at her. "It might get better sooner if you stopped rubbing it like that."
"Sorry. It just itches so much." Julie forced her hand away, but blinked continuously, and sighed. "Feels like someone tried to rip it out by the stem."
"Well, keep rubbing it like that, and they might have to. That's all you wanted to see me about?"
"Yeah, pretty much. Oh, wait a minute--you remember that drawing I showed you?"
"Yes," Dr. Pennethorne replied, looking interested.
"Well, I actually found the guy!"
"Really?"
"Yeah! He attends this little college called LRU just outside Charlevoix. He's really real! He's from Sweden. He didn't recognize me at first, but when I--"
She immediately cut herself off, remembering her conversation with Puck and Anders, and what the two of them had said. Don't go yakking around outsiders. What I tell you you can't tell anyone else. You have to promise us that. Do you promise?
And her own response. Yeah. I promise.
"Yes?" Dr. Pennethorne's voice came through her thoughts. "Yes, Julie?"
She shook herself out of it, and looked at him. He was looking at her, head cocked, curious.
"Uh," she said, "uh--when I--when I told him who I was, he remembered. We ran into each other in the park."
"Really?" He seemed to accept the explanation. At least better than he probably would have the real explanation. In fact, he seemed almost pleased.
"Yeah. Last summer. We ran into each other and dropped all our books." She forced a totally unconvincing chuckle. "So we had to pick them all up. I lost a couple of my papers and we had to run after them. I forgot all about that. He was nice. He helped me get my psychology dissertation back, only after it went in the fountain. I guess I forgot about it and just remembered it because he seemed so nice."
"Well, that's good to hear. I'm glad you've finally tracked him down. What's his name again?"
"Oh, he's Swedish. Anders. Anders Carlsson."
"That's nice. I'm glad to hear you've met. Well, is that all?"
"Yeah. I gotta get going to class. See you later, Doc."
"See you later, Julie."
Julie turned around, picked up her books from the chair, and exited the office in a daze, the door shutting softly behind her.
Dr. Pennethorne sat down and began reading one of his patient files, with a slight smile of satisfaction that Julie's stories about extraterrestrials were finally proven unfounded. The smile slowly turned to a frown, however, as he realized that, last summer, Julie hadn't even been enrolled in a psychology class, much less been working on a dissertation.
So somebody was obviously not telling the whole truth.
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