Authors: Adrian Howell
“I’m quite used to experiments,” I replied evenly. “If it works, great. If it doesn’t, I’m no worse off.”
Mr. Kremer seemed to smile as he said, “If that’s how you feel, then the sooner the better so I can be on my way.”
Terry said, “We’ll have our surgeon here tomorrow morning.”
The damage would have to be done by a skilled eye surgeon who would cut open my eyeballs in exactly the same way that they were originally damaged, or as close to as humanly possible. This meant that the Guardians were going to bring an ophthalmologist to New Haven, probably using a peacemaker to keep him sedated, and then alter his memory after the operation. I felt a little sorry for the drafted doctor, but at least he was guaranteed a safe (if somewhat confusing) trip home.
As we left the holding block, I asked Terry, “Do you really think the Guardians will honor your promise to release the Angel when he’s finished with me?”
“They won’t have to,” Terry replied crisply. “I’m not about to honor it either. His conversion is old and weakening. Give him another year and he won’t even want to return to the Angels.”
“Wait a minute, Terry!” I exclaimed, aghast. “You kidnap that guy, he does me a great favor, and then we keep him locked up?”
“He’ll thank us later,” said Terry. “Probably. And even if he doesn’t, we won’t keep him locked up forever. Besides, Adrian, he’s not doing you a favor. He’s doing me a favor. I can see you learned to live without sight.”
The day passed slowly, and I spent most of it forcing myself to read my Braille schoolbooks and keep my hopes down. Mr. Kremer had sounded even less sure than Terry, and I wasn’t going to let my feelings take another rollercoaster ride. My operation would be first thing tomorrow morning. One way or another, I would know soon, and there would be plenty of time to be happy afterwards.
I asked worriedly over dinner that evening, “Cindy, do psionic powers fade if you don’t use them?”
“Not that I know of,” replied Cindy. “You might find it awkward to use your telekinesis if you haven’t in a while, but it’s just like riding a bike. You still hover in your sleep, don’t you?”
“Sometimes,” I admitted. “But not nearly as much as before.”
Chuckling, Cindy said teasingly, “Alia told me you crash-landed on her bed just last week.”
“That’s like the only time this year, Cindy!” I said defensively. “And she didn’t have to go blabbing about it...”
“Someday you are going to see the virtue of wearing a tether.”
I shrugged.
As hard as I tried not to be hopeful, I couldn’t help some speculation on what life with sight would be like. I smiled as I remembered the exhilaration I felt when I flew at top speed for the first time. Soon, I might fly again.
One night’s fitful sleep, and the day of my operation was already upon me.
Laila, who had already missed too much school this year, couldn’t be there for my operation, but she called me up during breakfast to wish me luck.
“I know you don’t believe in it, Adrian,” she said, “but I’ll pray for you anyway.”
“Thanks,” I replied. “It couldn’t hurt.”
“Love you, Adrian.”
“I’ll see you at dinner tonight, Laila. I hope.”
I ended up leaving most of my breakfast untouched. I certainly wouldn’t have minded a little divine intervention right about now.
Just before 9am, Terry and Alia led me down to the healers’ office, which was still operating in our building. Cindy had gone early to talk with the ophthalmologist, and Guardian Knights had brought Mr. Kremer up from the holding block, so everyone was already gathered when we arrived.
By his voice, I recognized the ophthalmologist as the same man that Cindy had sent me to for a third opinion last summer. He, of course, didn’t remember me. I knew by the man’s credentials that I was in the best hands possible, but what gave me the most comfort was that Cindy was going to be assisting in this highly irregular operation.
“I won’t be able to do much more than pass the tools,” said Cindy, “but at least it gives me an excuse to be here.”
I was told to lie face up on one of the beds.
Cindy said, “I’m going to give you a shot that’s going to put you to sleep for the next five hours or so. You’ll be pretty groggy when you wake, and there will be bandages wrapped around your eyes. You must be careful not to remove them. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I replied, breathing deeply.
Terry said to me, “I’m going to take Alia back upstairs and return when you wake, Adrian.”
I felt my sister squeeze my right hand. “Good luck, Addy.”
“It’s going to be okay, Adrian,” Terry said quietly. “I know it.”
But I shook my head and said, “It’s not okay, Terry.”
“What?” Terry asked in a surprised tone.
“It’s not okay!” I insisted, sitting up and turning to her. “What you said the other day, about taking things one step at a time. It’s not okay at all! Promise me, Terry, that even if this doesn’t work, you won’t run off again. Promise you’ll stay with us.”
“Adrian, I can’t promise something like that.”
“Then I won’t do this,” I said, getting up from the bed.
Terry nearly shouted, “Okay, Adrian! I promise!”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Another promise made to be broken?”
“No,” said Terry, unhappy but nevertheless resolute. “This time I really will give it up. It won’t be easy, but I’ll stay. I promise, okay?”
I heard Alia let out a loud yelp of joy, and I joined her. Cindy and even some of the Knights were laughing too. I couldn’t honestly say I no longer cared about the outcome of the operation, but I felt that even if I didn’t regain my eyesight, the day was already a success.
I lay back on the bed and took a few calming breaths before I said, “Okay, I’m ready now.”
I smiled as I felt Cindy’s needle prick my left arm. “See you soon.”
Suddenly my head was spinning so horribly that I couldn’t even sit up on the bed. Yawning, I realized that I was still conscious. When would the medicine make me fall asleep so that the operation could begin?
“Cindy?” I called out groggily. “Cindy? I think the shot wasn’t enough.”
Cindy didn’t reply. I slowly brought my hands to my face and felt some kind of cloth wrapped tightly around my head.
“I wouldn’t take that off just yet, Adrian,” said Cindy’s gentle voice as her footsteps approached.
“It’s over?” I asked dazedly.
“It’s over,” confirmed Cindy. “I’ll call Terry and Alia, and then bring you some water, okay?”
“How was the operation?” I asked when Cindy returned. “Am I going to see again?”
“We won’t know until we take the bandages off, which we can do just as soon as we move you to a darker room.”
“The bandages are just to protect me from the light?”
“That’s right. Your eyes are already as healed as they’re going to be, Adrian, and I can assure you that they look a lot more normal now.”
Cindy had emphasized “more,” which meant that my eyes had failed to reconstruct completely. That was no real surprise, considering the way they had been damaged, but would I really see through them? Right now, even partial peripheral vision would be a dream come true.
Terry and Alia arrived, and now that my head was no longer spinning, I could get up from the bed. I was led to another room and seated on a soft chair.
As Cindy slowly unwrapped the cloth from around my head, I could tell that I wasn’t the only one holding my breath.
I opened my eyes.
Blackness. I blinked a few times. Everything was still a dark shade of gray.
“Can you see anything?” asked Terry.
“I’m not sure,” I replied.
I blinked again, and then closed my eyes for a few seconds.
When I reopened them, Terry and Cindy were looking at me anxiously. Alia smiled.
“I can see your faces,” I whispered. “I can see you all.”
I was trying desperately to keep my sight from being blurred with tears, but it was useless. “I can see!” I repeated over and over, even after I was rendered quite blind with tears. “I can see everything!”
Once I was calmer, Cindy slowly raised the lighting in the room, which was operated with a dial rather than a switch. The room had some cardboard taped over the only window. According to the ophthalmologist, who was watching the changes in my irises, my new eyes were adjusting quickly enough.
I didn’t worry much about my irises, my attention focused on Cindy, Terry and Alia. My sister was still quite small for a ten-year-old, but looked taller than I remembered, and her shoulder-length hair suited her well. Terry looked tired and not yet completely recovered from her long journey. What had she seen and done that she refused to tell me about? Cindy was just as I remembered her. Her quiet, contented smile warmed my heart, and though I had lived with her all this time, it still felt wonderful to see her face again.
The doctor turned the lights up and down several times before he was convinced that I could leave the room. In another room, he gave me a series of tests to see if I was in any way colorblind, which I wasn’t. I didn’t even need glasses. It was, as he called it, a complete recovery. I knew that the Knights were going to erase the doctor’s memory of this, but I thanked him many times anyway. As for Mr. Kremer, he had already been returned to the holding block, and Terry insisted that I not go down to thank him until he was in a better mood.
Returning to the penthouse, I first went to the bathroom mirror to examine my new eyes. They certainly weren’t as I remembered them. They were the right shape, but ever-so-slightly smaller and deeper in my eye sockets. And the strangest part was the color. My eyes used to be light brown. Now, my right eye was a mixture of brown and reddish purple, and my left eye was a light shade of yellow-green.
“Wow,” I breathed as I stared at my reflection. I could hardly recognize myself.
It wasn’t just my eyes. My dark brown hair was about the same length as Terry’s, completely covering my ears and almost touching my shoulders. I had started shaving several months ago, but I discovered that I hadn’t been doing it very well. Short bits of beard sticking out from my chin gave me a grimy, vagrant-like look. It wasn’t the face of a stranger, but of a distant, long-lost relative. I was happy to discover that I was, if only a bit, taller.
Now to see if I was still a real psionic. I tried focusing my telekinetic power on my plastic drinking cup, levitating it up a few inches before setting it back down. That was easy. Next, myself. It took a little calming down, but I soon felt my feet lift off from the floor. I raised myself up higher until the top of my head was only an inch from the ceiling. I slowly turned around once on the spot.
Yes,
I thought happily,
I can fly.
Suddenly Terry walked into the room and exclaimed, “What are you doing up there?!”
My telekinetic focus failed for an instant, but I somehow managed to stop myself just before I hit the hard tile floor.
“Don’t do that, Terry!” I said as I righted myself in midair and touched my feet back down onto the bathroom floor.
When I told her why I had been levitating, Terry nodded and said, “Just like Cindy told you, right? You don’t forget how to do things like that. The problem is getting you back into shape physically.”
I looked at myself in the mirror again. I didn’t think I looked particularly fat or flabby or anything, but Terry was right in that I hadn’t done any physical training in months.
“Just give me a week more to be lazy, Terry,” I said.
“You get today and that’s it.” Terry smiled diabolically. “You wanted me back. Now I’m back.”
“Fair enough,” I agreed.
I didn’t ask Terry again what she had done at the Angel fort. That was Terry’s story, not mine, and I respected her decision not to share it. I already knew how much Terry had suffered since the Holy Land, and as much as I was grateful to her for restoring my eyesight, I was also happy for her. I was happy that she was finally at peace with herself. Terry really was back now – in every way that mattered.
I spent much of the afternoon going from room to room just to look at random things: the ceiling fan in the living room, the floor mats that Cindy had placed in front of every door, the forks and spoons in the kitchen, even the little knobs on my desk drawers. You might think that a person who had just regained his eyesight after more than eight months in darkness would want to see beautiful scenes such as sunsets or the ocean, but the little scratches on the side of a pencil were just as interesting to me. Everything was suddenly new and equally amazing. Sort of like being born.
I flipped through the old Grade One Braille books that Alia used to help me with: storybooks with no pictures, but plain text on one page and raised dots on the other. I examined my proximity headset, and fingered my kiddie cane. All the things I suddenly no longer needed. Strangely enough, I realized that I was actually going to miss being blind. Not a lot, but I would.
A little before dinner, I decided to disregard Terry’s warning and visit Mr. Kremer down in the holding block, not only to thank him but to offer an apology on behalf of the Guardians who had broken their promise to release him. I had expected the man to be furious with me and braced myself for a good shouting, but Mr. Kremer was surprisingly cordial. Before I could say anything, he congratulated me on my recovery and assured me that he bore me no ill will. It would have been a lot easier if he had hated me. His pleasant sincerity made me feel so horribly low that I couldn’t bear to look at his face as I mumbled my thanks.
“It’s not like I wasn’t expecting this of the Guardians,” Mr. Kremer assured me.
“But it’s not right that you should have to pay for my mistake,” I said miserably, staring down at his feet.
“Many things in this world aren’t right, Adrian,” Mr. Kremer replied gently. “Getting caught was my mistake.”
I wanted to help him but, under the circumstances, I doubted anyone could convince the Guardian Council to let such a precious healer return to the Angels. Perhaps Terry was right. Perhaps Mr. Kremer would choose the Guardians in the end. But that thought did little to ease my guilty conscience or lessen my contempt for the Guardians’ lack of principles. And the sad truth was that I was just as much indebted to the Guardians as I was to Mr. Kremer, so there was really nothing I could do. I wished him well and left.