but this time it had only a slight pinkish tinge. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand then poured the rest of the solution down the drain and twisted on the faucet. After rinsing out the basin and washing my hands, I took a seat on the closed lid of the toilet.

Felicity offered me a hand towel, and I took it. She reached up and pulled the free strands of her hair away from her eyes as she stood over me and inspected my face once again. With extreme care, she tenderly pressed the tips of her fingers around my cheekbone until she hit a spot where I winced noticeably.

“Aye, nothing broken, but you’re going to have a bruise,” she announced as she cocked her head to one side. “Tongue.”

“What?” I asked.

“Show me your tongue, then,” she directed.

I opened my mouth and did as she told me; I knew it wouldn’t get me anywhere to argue. She leaned a bit closer and squinted for a moment then nodded. I closed my mouth and peered back at her.

“So, what’s the verdict, ‘Doc O’Brien’?”

“You chewed on it pretty good, that you did,” she answered. “Still bleeding a bit, but not too bad.”

“Yeah. I figured as much.”

“Your speech has cleared up.”

“That’s a plus.”

“Aye, it is. So what did happen out there?”

“Like I told Ben.” I shook my head as I spoke, “I don’t know. It just hit me out of nowhere.”

She took a step back and crossed her arms, regarding me silently for a long moment before speaking again. “So, are you thinking it might have been Randy trying to communicate with you?”

“Don’t know. Maybe,” I answered. “There was that whole thing back at the M.E.’s office.”

“Aye, I wondered about that.”

“You and me both.”

“What really bothers me is that you still seem to be well-grounded, then. You shouldn’t be affected this way.”

“You won’t get any argument from me there. This is kind of weird too. Usually I ‘see’ something or get sucked into an empathic experience; even if it is usually pretty obscure.”

“So?”

“So there’s been none of that this time. Just a nondescript scream and now this seizure thing.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Do you think it’s something else then?”

I shrugged. “Believe me, I’m just as confused by this as you.”

“Aye, but remember, you did start out with one of those headaches this morning.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I did.”

“Did you have any nightmares to go with it?”

“Never really got to sleep.” I shook my head. “So there was never much of a chance for one.”

“How is that, by the way?”

“What, the headache?”

“Aye.”

“No better I’m afraid. Actually, a bit worse I think.”

She stepped forward and swung open the right side of a tri-fold mirror over the sink. After a quick glance, she closed it and moved on to the center. A moment later, she was twisting the cap from a plastic bottle and shaking some of the contents into her hand. She tilted the container back and let the pills rattle back into it, deftly retaining three rust-colored tablets in her palm. She shoved the heavy dose of ibuprofen into my hand then filled a glass halfway with water and held it out to me.

“Go ahead, then, take them.”

“You know this won’t do anything for this kind of headache,” I said in a puzzled tone.

“Aye, that I do.” She closed her eyes as she nodded. “But they aren’t for that. They’re for your face. It will be hurting soon enough, and you don’t need that on top of the headache.”

“Oh, yeah, okay.”

I popped the trio of pain pills into my mouth and took the glass of water from her. Unfortunately, the medicine was only midway down my throat when, for the fourth time this morning, a bloodcurdling scream pierced my skull.

CHAPTER 10:

The ibuprofen tablets lodged sideways in my throat as I involuntarily jerked at the sound. I sputtered and gagged for a moment, then thumped my chest hard with my free hand, forcing the lump of pills to continue along their way. With a quick gasp, I wheezed in a lungful of air. My eyes were watering, and I coughed to expel the water that had ventured down the wrong pipe.

I looked up, fully expecting Felicity to be gazing back at me and wondering why I was suddenly choking. Instead, I found that she was wearing just as startled an expression as I’m sure was plastered to my features. On top of that, she was looking toward the open door. Before either of us could utter a word, a second cry echoed through the house sounding vaguely like the word “no.” As it faded, it became an anguished sob, supported on all sides by sympathetic words uttered softly by a second voice.

“Aye, that would be Nancy, I’m afraid.” Felicity turned to me and spoke in a hurried voice as she rested a hand on my shoulder, “Are you okay, then?”

The earlier stampede was already being repeated as everyone came back up the hallway, passing by the bathroom on the way.

“I’m good,” I choked out as I coughed once again. I was still sitting on the toilet lid and leaning against the washbasin. I motioned at the door with one hand. “Go. I’ll be along in a minute.”

I didn’t have to tell her twice. In fact, she was already moving in the direction of the doorway as I answered her. I watched her go and then pushed myself upward. My muscles were already feeling the leading edge of soreness from the convulsive attack they’d endured. I rinsed out the glass and set it to the side before taking a handful of the cold water running from the tap and gingerly splashing my face. I lingered for a moment at my eyes, letting the coolness soak in as I rubbed. They felt tired and gritty, and that was only one of the many unpleasant sensations coursing through me.

I dried my face with the hand towel and stood for a moment, my expressionless countenance staring back at me from the vanity mirror. My cheek was already swelling noticeably, and my eyes were bloodshot. I desperately needed a shave, and my goatee could have stood a trim as well. It seemed as though every time I looked into a mirror lately I would see just that many more grey hairs.

“Hell gettin' old, ain’t it?” Ben’s quiet voice came from behind me as he voiced the observation.

I glanced over my shoulder at him then back to the mirror. “Do you need to get in here?”

“Nah,” he replied. “Just checkin’ on you.”

“Old,” I muttered with a sigh as I gazed back at my less than flattering reflection. “I’d be inclined to agree with you, but the problem is, according to my driver’s license I’m only forty.”

“It’s not the years, Kemosabe…”

I finished the cliche bromide for him. “…It’s the mileage. Yeah, I know.”

“Cheer up. You got a few left in ya’, white man,” he said.

“I don’t know, Ben. I’m feeling like a bad re-tread right now.”

“So, like maybe you need to do that groundin’ thing you and Felicity are always talkin’ about,” he offered. “Ya’know, so the creepin’ ooga-boogas can’t fuck with ya’ so much.”

“That’s the other problem,” I said. “I’m already doing that.”

“For real? You ain’t just sayin’ that to get me off your ass?”

I guess I’d lied to him about my condition too many times for him to take my word for it right off the bat.

“Yeah, for real. You can ask Felicity if you want.”

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