Once Upon A Goddess
Stevenson, Chris
ISBN 13: 9781897381571
Paperback; perfect bound; 5.5 x 8.5
Sample Excerpt, © Rain Publishing Inc.
Chapter One
Mason Hart felt a searing pain as he tried to move his eyes under closed lids. When he attempted to open them, they wrenched up like rusty garage doors and throbbed against his brows. He couldn’t hold them open. His mother used to ask where it hurt in his head when he had a migraine, and he would tell her that it was the top of the overhead camper. That was the overhang part of the brain, and it was exactly where he felt such a terrible thrombosis now. The two-headed boy in the circus never had such a headache.
Mason attempted to speak but his lips were stuck together, so he grimaced and felt a tear and a stream of spittle over his chin. He pushed some wind up through his throat and a sound escaped. “Haaaagh.”
He tried again. “Halp guh!”
Struggling, Mason swallowed a small puddle of saliva. He tried once more.
“Help ma,” he finally uttered.
He raised his eyelids again and they managed to stay open, but he only saw dappled light juxtaposed behind a milky film that he supposed was his vision trying to clear. Blinking several times to wash away the glue-like residue, he could eventually make out the familiar box-like shape of an object that sat perched high up in the corner of a room. Mason realized the object was a television set, but it was hanging on the ceiling, which seemed terribly wrong. Televisions always sat on the floor or at eye level.
He became very frightened and believed that he had ended up topsy-turvy in an 8.5 earthquake and was now on the ceiling looking up at the floor.
“Halp,” he called weakly, certain that the rescue workers would bring their chainsaws and axes.
His eyes not yet in focus, he saw something that looked like a small snowstorm with red stripes appear from a hole in the wall. It drew closer, moving swiftly around him, and turned a light shade of pink. In the next moment, the conflagration came at him and he could see the static outline of a human being in the blur of colors. A face as big as a truck came over him to look down into his eyes, and then he felt a cool mop on his forehead. A warm breath washed over his cheek with some words.
“There, there, you’re going to be just fine. Try to relax. I’m Wendy, and I’m a candy striper here at Juliet hospital. You’ve had an accident and we’re taking care of you. Do you understand?”
“Assident?”
“Yes, you had a little problem in incarceration. But that was after your car was stolen. They transferred you here from the main jail. That’s all over now. What you need to do is rest. How is your head feeling?”
“Tellible.”
“Do you have pain anywhere else?”
He made the extra effort to formulate words and spoke slowly. “If I have … pain … I don’t … feel it.”
“Ah, then that might be a good sign.” She furrowed her brows. “I think. Try to stay awake before you fall asleep. Okay? You wait right here and I’ll get you a real nurse.” With a flourish, she was out the door.
“Okay.” Mason realized he had been abandoned by the candy striper girl and tried to gather his thoughts, but his eyelids grew heavy again and he lapsed in and out of consciousness.
A while passed until Mason regained responsive-ness, and felt the sensation of a pinch in his left arm. He opened his eyes to see another woman glaring down at him with a very sad expression. She had a horse-like face and long teeth, and if his body could have convulsed in fright, it would have. In the next moment, he felt a warm rush come over him like he was being defrosted in a microwave.
“I’ve given you an injection to make you feel better and it will help with your coherency,” said the horse face. “Just relax and go with it. Do you know where you are?”
He saw a thin metal tube click on with a bright shaft of light; it passed in front of his face. Searing beams stabbed into eyes, momentarily blinding him.
“Well, they’re not fixed and dilated,” she said half-jokingly. “It looks like we’ve got another one that’s going to live. I’m Nurse Esmeralda, and you’re on my roster right now. You’ve suffered a head impact injury that resulted in a concussion. You had an altercation at the police station, where you received this injury. You are not in trouble as a result. The guilty party, the instigator, has been removed to county.” She put a thermometer in his mouth and went on. “You’ve had several concerned visitors, but you were not in any condition to receive them.”
He felt a little better — clearly from the heavy pain-killer coursing through him — and arched his eyebrows in response to her last statement.
“Well, they didn’t stay long, but they left some get well letters on your night table, here.” She picked them up and showed them to him. He recognized the dramatic swirl of one of the handwritten salutations on the envelope and made an imploring gesture, accompanied by a noise from the back of his throat.
“Well, it is highly irregular to open personal mail. But I’ll read it to you if you want me to.”
Mason nodded and his neck vertebrae popped.
The nurse tore open the envelope and shook out the letter. She began to read:
Mr. Hart,
I was distressed to hear of your unfortunate arrest and accident today and hope that you are recovering. But it is also for this very reason that I must call off our communications and future plans. Your current behavior is not conducive to the proper image I wish to maintain, especially when considering the vows of matrimony. I’m afraid my parents are in full agreement and we have all prayed on the matter.
I hope you find what you are looking for and recover from this wayward and unholy trek. I know that my search must continue, with my head held high.
Yours in sympathy,
Miss. Prindy Baker.
“Well,” said the nurse and those big horse teeth clacked. “Let’s see what’s in this other post, shall we?” She cleaved another envelope in two and shook out the letter. She glanced at it and frowned. “There is nothing really significant here that we need to—“
He waggled his head and groaned.
“Okay, I’m sorry … it just says that you’re fired … in big block letters and it’s signed by Denny Chewy.”
Mason bit down on the thermometer, cracking it. Nurse Esmeralda, startled, wrenched his head to the side and fingered his mouth with harsh swabs to remove the broken shards and toxic mercury. Once she had his mouth cleaned, she stood over him and mopped his brow soothingly. “That was a terrible thing to do to you … and certainly not fair at all.” She lifted his head and spanked his pillow. “Now, you are not to worry about any of this. Your job … I’m sorry … I mean, your directive is to heal and forget about all of this for now. Mr. Booboo has his nasty little mittens on you and it’s time that we said hello to Mr. Heal.”
“How long has Mr. Booboo had me here?” he asked, and could feel a laceration across his tongue.
“You’ve been incapacitated for five days — it’s Wednesday, and that is perfectly normal for the injury you sustained.”
He asked her for a mirror and she produced a small pocket variety so that he could see the extent of the bandage on his head. But when he looked into the reflection he saw a pair of bloated cheeks and two eyes that looked like point blank shotgun wounds. His eyes were so full of blood that he could only see slivers of blue and wondered why he was not totally blind. The mirror fell limply from his hand.
No comments:
Post a Comment