Isle of View
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Jenny made it through the critical period of seventy-two hours. After those three days they increased her chances to 50 per cent, but not much was said about the state of her brain. The specter that can haunt such cases is brain damage, which the surgeons can't repair. Physically she was in a sorry state. Her lovely waist-length hair had been cut short and half her head shaved. Perhaps it was just as well that she remained unconscious, for her awakening would have been a horror at this stage.
About three weeks later she was transferred to another hospital, still in a coma. She remained there six more weeks, barely responsive to outside stimuli. Occasionally she would wiggle her big right toe, lift her head a little, and track with her eyes on request. Her mother showed her pictures of her cats—Jenny rescued every homeless cat she encountered, and there were eleven cats at her home—and read notes from her friends to her. Jenny's eyes widened and she sighed heavily. This suggested that her nervous system was there and that her mind remained. But that was all. They had tried to tell her what had happened, and perhaps then she had spoken her only word, if that was the meaning of the sound she made: "No!" She did not cooperate with therapists. It was as if she was deep in a pit, and only the most evocative things could reach her at all, and then only briefly. She did not seem to want to live. What was the point, with her body paralyzed? Weeks passed without change.
At last Jenny's mother, grasping at straws, wrote to me. She thought that maybe a letter from the author of Xanth would strike some spark and motivate Jenny to come out of the coma. Jenny had read the first ten Xanth novels; the accident had cut her off from the eleventh, published not long before. The things of Xanth were common in Jenny's house. The Spelling Bee was as balky as ever, forcing them to use the mundane dictionary; Agent Orange sometimes wilted their plants (that turned out to be their big orange cat, using the pots in lieu of kitty litter); the Gap Chasm had an extension past their backyard; the Forget Spell frequently caused things like homework and room tidying to be forgotten; the Monster Under the Bed made things disappear; and the hypnogourd-TV tended to trap her father after his hard day's work. So maybe Xanth would have the magic needed to wake Jenny from her long sleep.
Jenny's mother happened to know a novelist of the genre, Andrea Alton, whose novel Demon of Undoing featured civilized catlike creatures. She asked Andrea about this business of writing to me, and Andrea suggested that she ask me to name a character of Xanth after Jenny, as this could be done without reference to Jenny's real nature and might encourage Jenny to take notice. At worst, I would say no.
As it happened, when I received the letter in FeBlueberry 1989, I was about three weeks from starting this novel. I knew how it would begin and how it would end, and I knew about Che Centaur needing help. But much of the rest was inchoate; I would figure it out when I got there. So I wrote a letter to Jenny for her mother to read to her, and I told her of the novel and offered to put in a character with her name. Would she prefer an elf girl or an ogre girl? I asked whether she liked ElfQuest, the series of novels in comic form—many of my younger readers do—and mentioned that her Bed Monster had gotten lonely at home without her so had moved in under her hospital bed. But he was in danger there of having a nurse give him a loathsome shot in the rump. Monsters don't much like shots, for some reason.
I really had my doubts. I hoped my letter would help, for I have raised two daughters, and by an odd coincidence each of them was once twelve years old, and to me there is nothing more precious than a little girl. But by the time my letter could reach her, Jenny would be almost three months in her coma, and that was no positive sign. So I schooled myself not to hope too much, like Electra with Prince Dolph.
I should say that I am not eager for a deluge of requests for characters named after readers. This was a special situation. I would rather have every young reader live safely and never suffer any pain or even a low grade at school. One character can be named after a reader, but I have half a million readers. So if you're not in a coma, don't ask.
Jenny's mother read my letter to her. It brought a great widening of Jenny's eyes and her first smile since the accident. She became responsive. She would squeeze someone's hand on command. They used flash cards saying YES and NO, and Jenny's eyes would track to one or the other in answer to questions. By such means her mother ascertained that Jenny definitely preferred to have an elf girl, not an ogre girl. Big surprise! I was teasing her, of course.
After that Jenny cooperated with the therapists, and each week saw improvement. She remained largely paralyzed, and was in a body brace, and unable to move her left side or to talk. She could not close her mouth; a smile was about the limit of what she could do. She had to have nerve blocks to free up her limbs. She was, we suspect, in pain at times. But Jenny is a cheerful girl, and her smiles became more frequent, and then her laughs, and then she managed to say the first word we are sure of: "Hi." It's hard to speak when your face is paralyzed. So she had miles to go, and how far she would get no one could say, but now she was in motion. She was climbing out of the pit, an inch at a time.
I wrote again, and again, on a weekly basis. Jenny became a major correspondent, though she could not answer. Her mother reported on Jenny's reactions to my letters, and interpreted. The blinking of eyes could be a signal, and a kind of game of "twenty questions" could run down what Jenny had in mind. She was so responsive now that it was easy to forget that she remained mostly paralyzed. I learned that she is a vegetarian, like me, and I saw the drawings she had made before the accident, for her story about the flowers and the blind girl. Yes, that was Jenny's story that Jenny Elf told; this is my listing of credit for that. As I write this, they are shopping for a wheelchair, looking forward to the time when Jenny can come home. I joked about how she would zoom down the halls, setting the nurses spinning, and be known as Spinning Jenny. I will, if you wish, make a report in the next Xanth novel Note about Jenny's progress. As for Jenny Elf, we don't yet know about her either. She may remain in Xanth, or she may return to the World of Two Moons. Only the Muses know for sure, and they don't seem too certain. Any of you who haven't visited that world may do so now, to check it out for her: ElfQuest graphic novels are in your bookstores. For now, take my word: they aren't junk, any more than Xanth is.
Meanwhile, back in Mundania: what would I do with that drunk driver, if I ruled the universe? I'd sentence him to three months in a coma, and a possible lifetime crippled. It is past time to start taking action with teeth in it to stop such brutal idiocy. For this was no isolated event; every day, other drunk drivers are doing this to other innocent children. Why should they stop, since punishment is a joke?
So I got into the novel, and Jenny Elf took form as a cross between Jenny of Mundania and a visitor from ElfQuest. I wrote to Richard and Wendy Pini, who record ElfQuest, and they gave me permission to make Jenny an ElfQuest elf rather than a Xanth elf. In fact they also got in touch with the original Jenny, sending her things of their realm. I understand that at one point Jenny, annoyed by the rock music of a boy in the ward, turned up her ElfQuest tape to drown it out. Should we call that spar wars? So it was that an ElfQuest elf came to Xanth, making this novel unique. The rest you know.
After I completed the novel and the Note, back in Mayhem, something came up. I discovered that Jenny lived close to a science fiction convention that was scheduled for NoRemember 1989. So I told her folks about it and said that if it turned out to be possible for Jenny to attend, I would go too. I hate to travel, but this was special, and anyway it seemed unlikely that the hospital would let her go that soon.
Surprise! It could be arranged. The hospital gave Jenny a one-day pass, and she came with two therapists and her family. Thus it was that I attended Sci-Con 11, in Virginia, and met Jenny, who was now thirteen. She was still unable to move well, or to talk, and could not remain sitting in her wheelchair for long. But I took her hand and talked to her intensely for about half an hour, tuning out the rest of the world. The essence of what I said to her was t
hat maybe she had decided to wake from her coma on her own, then learned of my first letter, and said "How nice. What's for lunch?" At that point she began to smile; we both knew it hadn't been that way. Then I got serious: "But maybe you were walking through the valley of the shadow of death, and you faced resolutely toward that other world, until my hand caught your hand, and held you, and turned you back to face this world." I explained how I had been just the final person in a long chain of her parents and friends reaching for her, and so I had been able to stretch the last bit of the way and finally catch her hand. But I hoped that what I had brought her back to was more than paralysis. This convention was part of what the world offered for her.
Then I introduced her to another person who had come: Richard Pini of ElfQuest. At this point she broke into a big smile. Richard gave her Wendy Pini's painting of Jenny Elf, looking just like her only with pointed ears. They will make a graphic—that is, pictures—version of this novel, published more or less concurrently, so those of you who prefer exciting pictures to dull print may throw away this book and go for that one.
Jenny got to tour the art show at the convention, in her pretty purple gown and matching shoes, in her wheelchair. Art Guest of Honor Ron Lindahn, who does the Xanth Calendars, showed his paintings personally for her. The folk of the convention came up to meet her, some in costumes, ignoring Richard and me. We were happy to have it that way. It was Jenny's hour.
But that was it. Jenny was very tired. She had to return to her room, and lie down, and then she was taken back to the hospital. I visited her there the next day and read a story to her and her similarly paralyzed friend Kathy. Next day I returned to Florida, with a red artificial rose from Jenny's corsage. I still have that rose.
So that's an update, taking Jenny through 1989. How far she will progress hereafter we do not know. But she has now met the public, and many Xanth fans have met her. My experience with "Ligeia," the suicidal girl some years back, tells me that some readers will want to write to Jenny. I will give you the address, with this caution: Don't expect Jenny to write back. She can't hold a pen well enough to write, and they are still figuring out how to hook up a computer that she might direct by head motions. In fact, she won't actually read letters, because she can't hold them up to see; her folks will read them to her. So don't say anything really private. You can write to her in care of Jenny Elf, P.O. Box 8152, Hampton, Virginia 236668152.
And if you want to get on my mailing list for autographed pictures, catalog of books and sample copy of my personal newsletter, call 1-800-HI PIERS.
About the Author
New York Times-bestselling author Piers Anthony has written over one hundred books. His first fantasy, A Spell for Chameleon, won the August Derleth Fantasy Award for best novel in 1977, and commenced his acclaimed Xanth series. Please visit him at www.hipiers.com.
Eos Books by Piers Anthony
The Xanth Series
13: Isle of View
14: Question Quest
15: The Color of Her Panties
The Incarnations of Immortality Series
Book Six: For Love of Evil
Book Seven: And Eternity
Credits
Cover illustration by Darrell K. Sweet
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
XANTH 13: ISLE OF VIEW. Copyright 1990 by Piers Anthony Jacob. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1. Chex's Challenge
Chapter 2. Jenny's Journey
Chapter 3. Electra's Exam
Chapter 4. Dolph's Dilemma
Chapter 5. Chex's Checks
Chapter 6. Jenny's Jeopardy
Chapter 7. Nada's Notion
Chapter 8. Dolph's Direction
Chapter 9. Cheiron's Chaos
Chapter 10. Jenny's Jam
Chapter 11. Electra's Empathy
Chapter 12. Dolph's Diagnosis
Chapter 13. Chex's Choice
Chapter 14. Jenny's Judgment
Chapter 15. Electra's Election
Chapter 16. Dolph's Decision
History of Xanth (simplified) by E. Timber Bram
Author's Note
About the Author
Eos Books by Piers Anthony
Credits
Copyright
About the Publisher