Oculus

by S. E. Akers

  I casually strolled behind a nearby oak tree and commenced with some head-to-toe concealment. I felt like any other person would if they were about to step into a tiger’s cage — nervous as hell and anticipating the worst. I only hoped the experience didn’t turn out to be as cringing as when I’d tapped into the lapis lazuli for the first time. The last thing I needed were gruesome images of Simone or any more pangs of her regret spooking me right off my saddle.

  I cleared my head and sought out my new stone’s vibe. It wasn’t hard to distinguish its energy. Stones had a distinct flavor of their own. The diamond radiated absolute power. The golden topaz felt cozy and warm. The lapis lazuli was spirited and tingly. And to my complete surprise, the blue topaz cast an unmistakably calm and cool vibe. Slowly I reached out to capture more of it, like I was dipping my toes into a pool to feel out its temperature. A wave of clearness fanned through me just as Simone’s face took shape and then suddenly all of her emotional character was revealed. She truly was a good person at heart. Thoughtful. Loving. Compassionate. In a weird way, I almost felt like she was pleased that I now claimed her stone. And here I’d thought connecting with her essence would make me feel even worse, but it actually served to ease my nerves. Now with a much lighter heart, I blew a steady stream into my hands. As soon as I felt it taking shape, I channeled the blue topaz’s energy straight into the stone as it formed. My eyes opened to find a wondrous gem lying cupped in my palms, looking as ethereal as the sky.

  I lowered my golden veil as I stepped out from behind the tree. I approached Shirley cautiously, who was now sitting on a bench and sipping on her drink. She shifted around nervously the closer I came. Her uneasy thoughts were blaring like shrill warnings in my head. Hoping to abate her worries, I smiled as I sat down, only to watch her scoot all the way to the end of the bench. I resorted to a little brain-zapping to move things along. Who knows? Maybe I had a little control-freak hiding inside me as well? Things did tend to flow a lot smoother with only one set of hands on the wheel. With Shirley now compliant, I slid closer and placed the blue topaz in her hand. She didn’t need an actual stone to keep after my intervention, but I figured “why the heck not” as an added parting gift. I could make plenty more. Gingerly, I laid my hand over hers and then summoned the blue topaz’s energy once again. The diamond melded with the topaz’s therapeutic effects and magically bridged the divide that she’d lived with all of her life. I placed Shirley’s hands in her lap, issued a few directives, and then released her from my spell. Just to test the waters, I turned back to her and asked for the time.

  Of course her first instinct was to hesitate, but once she did strike up the nerve, out came a flawless, “It’s a quarter past one”. She immediately knew something was up from her eloquent flowing words and the graceful pace of her sentence. The look on her face was priceless — wide-eyed and mouth gaping, just like she’d won her own personal lottery.

  “Thank you, Shirley,” I winked, purposely acknowledging her name. I didn’t think her mouth could stretch any farther, but it did. I headed closer to the fountain to sit tight until Tanner arrived, but my eyes remained locked on the newly-healed woman from a distance. I could never get tired of seeing the expression on someone’s face after realizing they were undeniably cured. Their eyes beamed such an indescribable glow, like a harmonious mixture of pure amazement and immeasurable gratitude. I turned my stare towards the cosmos, indebted to it forever for allowing me to be a part of this experience — the good and the bad.

  My high spirits had me practically bouncing off the bench while I waited. Even a groundskeeper nearby noticed my bubbly mood. He smiled and handed me one of the roses he’d been pruning.

  “Thank you,” I said with a sunny smile.

  The groundskeeper returned my warm expression, bouncing his eyebrows clear above his shades, and then went back to his duties.

  The rose was a beautiful addition to my mood. Its bright fuchsia petals faded into the softest baby-pink the further they flowed towards its center. It honestly looked too perfect to have been clipped so soon. I inhaled an extra-stout sniff. Though the flower’s initial scent was undeniably sweet, the afternote lingering in my nostrils sent them flaring. I checked the pollen-packed anthers for any bugs (there weren’t any) and then took a more cautious sniff. Pee-heuw, I sneered, having officially located the source of the funky smell. I laid the rose down on the bench straightaway. Now I understood why they were getting the boot.

  I’d just checked the time on my watch when I noticed a nurse comforting a young female who looked roughly my age. The girl’s face appeared so fraught with worry it stirred my curiosity. I listened to their conversation as they approached.

  “Your father is in excellent hands here,” the nurse assured. “I know your family has probably been told that many times before, but the doctors here at Transcendence can handle all of his conditions. Dr. Roory is one of the best schizophrenic specialists in the country,” the nurse bragged. “And Dr. Fairchild has successfully treated hundreds of patients with her various rage management therapies.”

  The young female turned to the nurse, red-faced and eyes streaking with tears. “I just want Daddy to get better,” she cried. “I want him to know who I am. I want him to come home. But that can’t happen until he stops hurting people.” The girl wiped her eyes. “This is the seventh center we’ve admitted him to in less than six years. If the doctors here can’t help him, no one can.”

  The nurse wrapped her arms around the girl and gave her a tight squeeze. Her situation couldn’t have tugged at my heartstrings any harder. I truly ached for this stranger. This girl was so fortunate to have her father walking the earth, and yet she still couldn’t be with him and possibly may never get the chance to bring him home where he belonged.

  I wiped away a tear. At least not without a little help, I affirmed.

  “Would you make sure he gets this,” the girl requested and handed the nurse an envelope. “It’s a Father’s Day card. Of course it’s late now . . . What with everything that happened with the police and then that horrible place we had him transferred from, I never got the chance to give it to him. There’s a letter in there too. Could you make sure someone reads it to him.”

  “Of course,” the nurse assured and took the light yellow envelope. “I’ll take it to him right now. Don’t you worry.”

  The girl gave the nurse a soggy hug. “Thank you,” she said, her voice choppy from her tears. “Tell him that I love him, and that I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  The nurse lifted her chin and then waved her off with a smile. I quickly summoned my golden veil, hopped up, and then started following the nurse. Actually, I was following the card more than anything. I couldn’t let that girl suffer a minute longer without her father, nor let him suffer without her. If anyone out there held the power to give mine back to me, I’d like to think they would bend over backward to do it too.

  The nurse’s course veered towards a more security-conscious building. That was the kindest way I could describe the mammoth brick fortress that had wrought iron bars mounted over every window and two armed security guards standing out front. Even the lengthy runs of English ivy simply hugged the ground in thick patches, seeming perfectly content on not climbing the dreary & depressing structure in any way.

  I breezed past the guards and then on through the outside metal detector without raising anyone’s alarm. Now I really was glad that I’d left my hilt back at the house. Those guards would have strip-searched that poor nurse for sure. I entered the building practically on her heels to make sure I would clear the door before it came to a close. Her steps continued past the Nurses’ Station and then straight down a squeaky-clean white hall. More bars covered the tiny windows recessed in all the doors I passed, and keypad locks stood in place of traditional doorknobs. The nurse stopped at the last door on the right, peeked through the window, and then punched in a code on the display. Again, I rushed inside right behind her. Magically picking a brass lock was one
thing, but I didn’t want to risk its bolt not containing any of the manipulative metal alloy. Busting a door off its hinges might look a tad suspicious. I could already hear the sizzling “cracks” of firing Tasers stinging the air.

  “Mr. Johnson?” the nurse called to the man standing in the corner. “I have a card and letter from your daughter, Casey.”

  Mr. Johnson didn’t respond. He just stood there rocking back and forth with his eyes closed, miserably bound in a dingy white straitjacket. Now I knew why his daughter was so specific with her instructions. He couldn’t read something someone wasn’t holding for him. Though from his lethargic state, I doubted he was up to reading anything at all. Mr. Johnson looked to be a little older than my own father, though his appearance was far more weathered. His hair was a dark brown and reasonably kempt considering the confines of his daily environment. The man’s skin seemed so eerily pale, almost like the sun hadn’t kissed it in years. And he was thin, particularly gangly with a weariness that washed over him. An uneasy quiver rolled through me as I thought about his daughter. This wasn’t the same man who had walked her to the bus stop to catch the school bus for the first time or patted a cool rag across her brow whenever she was running a fever. My eyes pored over the man, now heavy with my own thoughts. And I knew this couldn’t be a man who would have let his five-year-old plaster his stubbly cheeks with pink blush and color his lips like a clown one afternoon when she was too frightened to go out and play in the woods behind her house. I could shut out the world and still see the thick coat of green eye shadow caking those closed lids even now. I smiled somberly. All the way up to Daddy’s brows… I’d never wanted to give something to someone more badly than I did right at this very moment.

  Every girl needs her father, for as long as she can have him.

  The nurse started to open the letter when her cell phone began vibrating. She paused to look at the screen and then let out a faint sigh. “I’ll be right back Mr. Johnson,” she remarked and then laid the envelope down on a rolling tray nearby. The cautious nurse kept her eyes on Mr. Johnson as she swiped a key card through a slot on the wall and then headed out the door.

  I lowered my veil as soon as I heard the “clank” of the bolt and then approached my catatonic target. His rocking tic remained at its steady pace, even after I’d carefully laid my hand on his shoulder. I guided the man towards me. Neither his head nor his eyes lifted the first inch. My soul felt more pity for this man than it had for any other stranger I’d crossed paths with today. Gently, I laid my hands on his head and swiftly called upon the diamond’s powers to rid this man of all the aliments plaguing him. The energy I sensed pushing inside him felt just as powerful as any other time I’d summoned them, but I detected some resistance. It could have been my emotions getting muddled in the mix, possibly because my heart was so determined to grant this girl a wish I could never be given. I simply wasn’t sure. Once the diamond’s glow had faded to a close, I lowered my hands and stepped back to observe the man.

  Slowly but surely, Mr. Johnson started mumbling something. It was faint, but at least he was attempting some sort of sound. I watched his frame begin to shift about as he stood there with his head still awkwardly down. My gaze traveled past his chin and then fell upon his uncomfortably crossed and shackled hands. The thought of him finally coming around and finding himself helplessly cocooned was distressing. Even the sanest person would throw a fit waking up to that. I had to get him loose. One by one, I inched down his back unfastening buckles. With those out of the way, I maneuvered his arms out of their stagnate sling-like hold and peeled off the heavy garb.

  The man was still mumbling. I needed to hear him say something coherent that would let me know he was okay.

  “Sir?” I leaned towards him. “What was that?” I questioned, hoping it would prompt him to speak a little clearer.

  His head abruptly shot up like a rocket, now level with mine. The jet-black hue flooding his sockets gouged my eyes, blindsiding me instantly.

  “He’s always watching you,” the man grumbled, cold and gritty. “Always . . .”

  I was just about to jump back when the possessed man jerked me towards him. My eyes exploded when I felt a searing pain stabbing the base of my neck from out of nowhere. I screamed and dropped to my knees as the man released me. Something savage was lodged inside my breathless body, ravaging my core and crippling me with fierce and fiery pangs.

  CHAPTER 14

  The patchwork of terrazzo tiles that I’d been lying on merely seconds ago was now a thick carpet of green grass. Everything had disappeared. The room… The building… Even the man who’d attacked me… I dug my hands into the ground to make sure it was real, but mostly to bear down on something to fight off the pain stabbing my neck. I’d felt this harrowing bite before. My mind burned with such certainty the word DIAMOND had to be scribed in flames across my gut.

  Tanner was kneeling beside me before I could fire off my first cry for help. He rolled me over and pulled me into his arms. “SHILOH! WHAT HAPPENED?” he demanded.

  My throat was hoarse from my scream. “Get it out!” I begged, my words raw and gritty. Tanner started patting me down all over, not knowing what he was looking for. “My neck . . . The back of my neck.”

  He flipped me over and brushed away my blood-drenched strands. “What’s in there?!?”

  “A diamond,” I gasped. The brutal pain wasn’t letting up. In fact, it was getting worse, horribly worse, like the stone was burrowing itself deeper and purposely twisting around to torture me more. My voice cracked as I tried to form my words. “Please,” I pleaded, sobbing. “Get it out.”

  “I CAN’T! It’s too deep!” He shouted, though his admission sounded more fearful than angry.

  Tanner jerked my feeble frame into his arms with his hurried rise. The tremble of his grip alarmed me, but the urgency I sensed from his haste kicked my panic into overdrive. Something frightfully dire had lit his normally cool & collected tail on fire.

  “What’s wrong?” I blurted.

  His eyes brooded with the force of a thunderstorm. “Shiloh, just please, HOLD ON! Tighten up your muscles and try not to move.” The next thing I knew, his vapory form had completely enveloped me and flashes of greens and blues were streaking past swiftly. He was rushing me back to his house, which freaked me out even more.

  We arrived in no time. Tanner kicked open the door and rushed into the foyer. Silas was already standing there waiting for us. “Did you get it?!?” Tanner demanded.

  Silas held up my hilt. “Right here.” The house steward was right on our heels as Tanner carried me into the study.

  Another violent pang wrenched my insides as he set me down on the sofa. My synapses fired off a fierce warning when I realized the diamond wasn’t rooted in the same spot anymore and had slipped further down my spine.

  Tanner placed the hilt in my hand. I bore down on the handle like a magical metal stress-ball, fending off another agonizing stab.

  “Shiloh, you have to release the diamond,” he urged.

  “Why?” I mumbled.

  “Because we have to use the wand to cut it out,” Tanner asserted critically.

  My eyes bulged. “Can’t you use something SMALLER?”

  “To open your skin, yes, but . . .” Tanner’s abrupt silence sent a tremble throughout my body. “It’s the only thing that will draw the stone back out, like a magnet,” he assured, “before it reaches your heart.”

  The grave look in his eyes had me breathlessly pinned. I didn’t have to ask what would happen then. The dismal and dark violet shade clouding them shrieked “DEATH” just fine. Even their whites mimicked a stark marble tombstone.

  I opened the wand straightaway, only to have the house steward pluck it out of my hand. “Prop her up,” Silas commanded.

  I halted my mentor’s hands with a smack, which only brought on more agony. “WAIT!” I cried, looking expressly at Tanner. “You do it!” I didn’t care how damn handy the house steward’s hands were. T
here was no way in hell that I was letting Silas play a supernatural version of Operation on me — not with a four-foot diamond scalpel! SERIOUSLY! I only wished a careless slip-up would rattle off a jolting “BUZZ” and light my daggone nose red.

  Tanner cupped my face firmly, his eyes vehemently paling into an earnest lavender hue. “Would you rather me cut, and you hold on to him?” he grilled. “Because the pain you’re about to experience is a hundred times worse than what you’re feeling right now. That diamond will be inching out an extremely angry and thorny exit, I can promise you that.”

  The way I lunged forward and latched on to his frame you’d have thought I’d just been speared with an iceberg-sized diamond and was bobbing in the water, clinging to his shoulders like a busted wooden door.

  Tanner pinched up the back collar of my shirt and gave it a speedy rip. “Are you ready?” he asked, sweeping my bloody strands towards my chest.

  A rush of air struck my aching open wound, forcing me to bite down on my lip. “Yes,” I mumbled, only to shift nervously in protest the very next second. “No! No, I’m not!”

  Tanner stroked my cheek. “Shiloh, everything’s going to be fine. I swear. The pain will only last a few seconds. Silas will be quick.”

  The house steward stepped into my view and gave his hand a blasé wave. “Not to worry, Ms. Wallace. This type of thing is old-hat to me. Why there isn’t a hide too tough that these hands cannot slice through, nor organ I cannot steer my way around,” Silas assured. He would have been more successful at easing my worries if his head hadn’t fallen into a suspect tilt straight after his encouraging spiel. “Though I must say, the action my cutting block entertains isn’t as squirmy,” he sneered and then pointed the tip of the diamond blade at me. “I suggest you bear down and stiffen up. The slightest twist could have dangerous repercussions.”

  Yeah. I’d seen ole Julia Child deboning a chicken last week. He may have been masterfully skilled and quick, but all that slicing and tugging sure-fire didn’t look pretty.