by Black, Chuck
With each passing day, he became more and more frustrated, confused, angry, and afraid. To speak of what he knew could mean instant death, or worse, the death or peril of his mother. He hourly weighed this risk with the incredibly slim chance that someone with any ability to do something would believe him. He considered all the possible outcomes and always came up despondent and hopeless. He imagined that Ben had also been tormented by the same agonizing mental exercise in futility.
In the end, the only response was silence.
Drew came to consider his blindness as a gift. He didn’t have to look over his shoulder or gaze at dark corners every waking minute, unlike what he imagined Ben was doing. After days of weary waiting for some bizarre tragedy, he decided to focus on dealing with his blindness just to keep from going mad. He began spending time in the backyard, near the trees that bordered their property. His mother would walk him to a place under a sprawling oak, where he liked to listen to the sounds of nature. It was his first attempt at trying to reconnect with the world.
One afternoon, as he leaned against the large trunk, his ears picked up the soft crunch of grass beneath shoes. It was obvious the intruder was trying to be stealthy, and it unnerved Drew. If he was in danger, he wouldn’t have a chance to escape.
“Who’s there?” The footsteps came faster, and Drew’s heart began to race. “Who’s there?” he said louder as he moved to a crouching position.
“Don’t cause such a commotion!”
“Ben?” Drew tilted his head to make sure he had identified the voice correctly.
“Yes, it’s me … Be quiet. No one can know I’m here. I’ve been waiting for two days to talk to you.”
Drew smiled, joyful that his friend was still alive. “Where have you been? What’s going on?”
“Just lean back against the tree and look like nothing is happening.”
Drew relaxed and obeyed.
“I don’t have a lot of time. I’ve been gathering some supplies and am leaving Rivercrest.”
“But your parents are worried sick. What are you doing?”
A few seconds of silence passed until Drew wondered if Ben was still there. His voice finally came again, low and nervous.
“I know they are, but first you have to tell me everything you saw.”
All the dread and fear Drew had been dealing with swept back on him. “I … I don’t think it’s safe, Ben.”
Silence.
“Weird things are happening.” Ben’s voice was grave now. “I think they’re after me.”
Ben sounded scared, and Drew didn’t blame him.
Drew didn’t dare reveal what he knew—the invader might be standing and listening to every word he was speaking, but he also couldn’t leave his friend in such a confused and paranoid state. Ben’s survival might depend on what Drew told him. He had to risk it.
“It’s very real, Ben. We are in danger. The man I saw was one vicious-looking dude. I thought he had killed you. The worst of it is that I think he knows we were onto him.”
“He was a man?”
“Yes … no, not really. There was something unearthly about him. I’ve never seen anyone like him before.”
“How many were there?” Ben asked, his voice trembling.
“I only saw one, but we should assume there are more.”
“Weapons?”
Drew realized that even in his frightened state, Ben’s logical mind still ruled his emotions, and he was trying to get as much information as fast as possible.
Drew hesitated because he knew how absurd his answer was going to sound.
“He was dressed in black clothing and wore a trench coat. He carried a … a sword on his back.”
“A sword? That doesn’t make any sense. Beings from another world with that kind of cloaking technology would not use such archaic weapons.”
“Yes, but it seemed as though it was more than a sword. Like it could affect things the way he wanted it to.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ben, I saw him plunge the sword right through you. Did you feel anything?”
“Uh … no … I don’t think so.”
“Well, that was exactly the same moment when the LASOK overloaded and exploded.” Even as Drew said it, it sounded absurd. “I don’t know, it could just be coincidence—it all happened so fast.”
Ben said nothing. Drew knew he was processing the new information. “That’s another thing, Ben.”
“What?”
“Fast … This guy was incredibly fast. If this invader is from another world, the planet he comes from must have a much higher gravity, because when I saw him move toward you, he nearly flew across the room. It was a blur, and then he was there. I’ve never seen anything living move that fast.”
There was no response from Ben, then …
“I’m sorry about your eyes, Drew.”
“I’m sorry about your expulsion. What are you going to do?”
“Disappear—heck, I don’t even know if I can disappear. I can’t even leave a note for my parents, and you can’t tell them either.”
Drew understood the frustration and strain in his voice all too well. If it weren’t for his blindness, Drew would do the exact same thing.
“Have you considered telling someone?” But Drew knew the answer.
“All the proof is gone, including the pictures. Who would believe me? Besides, you’re the one who saw it. It’s just hearsay from me. You can’t tell anyone because you can’t defend yourself or your mom.” Ben hesitated. “I’m sorry, Drew, but I think we are both in real danger … and our parents.”
Drew knew what Ben was trying to say. “Don’t you worry about me. Since I’m blind and don’t understand the experiment like you do, I may not be in as much danger as you.” Drew considered asking where he could find Ben but knew that was a foolish thing to ask. Besides, even if he knew where Ben was, Drew could never follow him. If Ben came up with a plan, Drew would have to wait for his friend to come to him.
“The wilderness might be a safe place,” Drew ventured.
Ben snorted. “I don’t have super survival skills like you do. They wouldn’t even have to try and get rid of me. I’d be dead in a week from my own folly. No … I need technology. That’s my area of expertise.”
Drew caught the subtle hint.
“Do you remember my last science fair project when I conducted research on the possibility of finding alien life on other planets?”
Drew smiled. He had teased Ben mercilessly about the project, but his research was so perfectly thorough and scientific that it had won him a trip to the International Science and Engineering Fair.
“Yeah, I remember. I guess I owe you an apology.”
“Not really, I just wanted to say thanks for the help.”
Drew didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t remember giving Ben any help whatsoever. If anything, he had been more of a hindrance. Was Ben being sarcastic?
“I’m not—”
“I have to go. You be careful, Drew.”
“You be careful too, Ben. Watch your back.”
It was a strange end to a strange conversation.
JAKE REARRANGED HIS SCHEDULE so that he could stay close to Drew and his mom for a few weeks. Though Drew was trying to adapt and not be a burden to his mother, he knew it was taking a toll on her. Jake’s presence was more for his mother’s sake than his own, and Drew was glad for it. Though he was steeped in self-pity, he felt bad for his mother. He tried to cheer up for her sake, but the mountain was too big to crawl out from under.
Jake tried to talk to Drew and get him to open up. A dozen times, Drew almost confided in his mentor, but the vision of the alien stayed his tongue. He wasn’t willing to risk putting Jake or his mother at risk.
Drew checked with Ben’s parents a couple of times after their visit, just to see if he had made contact with them, but he hadn’t. He wanted to comfort them somehow, but he had promised Ben. When the police investigator showed up to ask Drew q
uestions about Ben, he knew that Ben—or the invader—had been successful.
Ben had indeed disappeared.
There were times Drew suspected the worst, and it made him afraid.
In spite of his blindness, Drew continued to be surprised at his heightened sensitivity to sound, touch, taste, and smell. In the hospital he’d thought it was due to the medication they put him on, but once the meds wore off, the heightened sensitivity not only remained but increased. Did eyesight dull the other senses this much?
After some experimentation, he came to the conclusion that the accident had done more than just blind him. Something had changed. Both his mother and Jake noticed it too and were amazed by Drew’s perception of what was happening around him.
One Saturday afternoon, two months after the accident, Drew’s mother insisted on taking him to their favorite mountain lake for a picnic. After hours of cajoling, Drew acquiesced just to be done with the pleading. He knew she was trying to break him out of his melancholy, but the struggle was so much deeper than dealing with the loss of sight.
Jake joined them, and by midafternoon they were enjoying the cool, fresh air and warm sunshine of what Drew knew was a beautiful day. Being there caused him to miss his eyesight more than ever, but his other senses went wild with the stimulation of nature and its life. The rustling leaves, the crunch of pine needles, the song of the birds, the smell of evergreen, the velvet touch of forest moss, and the delicate push of air on his cheeks were just a few of Drew’s vivid sensations. He had never realized how alive the world was until he was blind.
“Aren’t you glad you got out of that dingy bedroom of yours?” his mother said with a delighted sigh.
Drew tried to smile but failed. “Yes, Mom. As usual, you were right. It’s good to be here.”
For a few minutes, Drew forgot about the threat on his life by the invader. But then the fear returned. Was he more or less vulnerable being out and away from civilization?
Though there was nothing gourmet about the fried chicken, beans, and potato salad, the meal tasted wonderful. After eating, they walked down to the lake. Drew held onto his mother’s arm and adapted to walking on irregular ground with a guide. Their feet shuffled the stones beneath, rearranging their placement. The gentle lap of miniature waves licked the shoreline. Drew heard Jake pause, then wind up and release a stone. Drew counted.
“Six skips and a slide.”
“How do you do that?” Jake sounded amazed. “You actually heard each skip?”
“It’s strange. I can almost hear the earth breathing.”
“That’s rather poetic for a math and finance major,” his mother said. Drew heard the smile in her voice.
He turned his face to her and froze. Something flashed across his eyes.
“What is it, Drew?” She sounded alarmed.
He turned his head right and left … and then saw it again. One white flash crossed his eyes. He held up his hand in what he thought was the direction it came from.
“What is there?” he asked, pointing.
“It’s the reflection of the sun off the lake water,” his mother replied.
Drew’s heart skipped a beat. He kept moving his head back and forth, hoping for one more flash. It was the first light he had seen in two months. He blinked many times, and then it happened a third time. “I … I see it.”
His mother let loose a startled cry. Drew felt her touch his cheek.
“What do you see, Drew?” Jake asked.
“I think I see flashes of light. I haven’t seen anything but blackness until just now.”
“Oh, Drew,” his mother said.
He tried for a long time to see the flashes again, but there were no more. He felt teased, but a twinge of hope crept into his mind.
Drew’s mom took him to the hospital the next day, where the ophthalmologist looked at his eyes.
“Residual visual optic nerve activity” is what the doctor called it after examining Drew’s eyes. The doctor took Drew’s mom out of the room, into the hallway. “He’s just going to have to accept the fact that he will never see again.”
The man spoke in a hushed voice, but Drew heard every word.
The drive home was silent, and once there, Drew retreated to his bedroom. He fell to his bed and allowed his depression to sink him into sleep. He dreamed of better days—days with his dad playing catch with the football. His dreams were still full of color and light, but no matter what images he saw, there was always a dark shadow where it shouldn’t have been. It gnawed at his consciousness until he awoke from the fitful sleep. He stumbled out of bed and felt his way to the door. When he opened it, the rush of air drawn in by the door filled his nostrils with the usual smells, plus one more—one that lifted his spirits. He made his way down the hallway to the living room.
“Sydney Carlyle.”
“Hi, Drew!” Her delightful voice enticed a weak smile.
“Now that’s not something we see very often,” his mother said from the far side of the room.
Drew brushed his bed-head hair back, hoping it wasn’t too disheveled.
“Sydney came by to see how you were doing,” his mother said.
Drew made his way to the couch, which he knew was empty based on the placement of the two voices.
“Home on break?” Drew assumed that spring must be about now.
“Yes,” Sydney replied. “I got home yesterday. How are you doing, Drew?”
“I’m doing great. Why wouldn’t I be? I’m blind, I’ve dropped out of school, and my best friend is missing.”
“Drew!”
At his mother’s scolding tone, Drew hung his head. He was always grumpy after sleeping, but the weeks of depression had apparently caused him to lose any sense of civility.
“I’m sorry, Sydney. It’s been a rough few weeks.” Drew heard his mother take a deep breath.
“You don’t need to apologize. I can’t imagine how hard it’s been for you.”
“Sydney, would you like something to drink?” his mom asked. “Iced tea, Coke, water?”
“Yes, please. A glass of tea would be wonderful.”
Drew’s mother exited the living room, and he could hear her preparing a couple of drinks. He knew she would take longer than needed. He heard Sydney rise up from the cushioned chair she was sitting in and walk toward him. She sat down on the couch next to him, her perfume drifting delightfully to his nostrils. He loved that smell. Her hand touched his forearm, sending synaptic shock waves to every part of his body. He resisted the urge to pull back from the sensory overload.
“I’m sorry this has been so difficult.”
Drew wanted to thank her, to tell her how much she meant to him, but there was no possible future together for them now. With or without this Jesus she always talked about, he figured blindness trumped anything.
He shook his head. “Why are you here, Sydney? I don’t need people feeling sorry for me.”
She pulled back her hand. The synaptic shock wave lingered, then subsided. It made him sad, but it was something that had to be done.
“I’m here because I care about you.”
“Like you might care about a wounded puppy?” It felt mean, but he didn’t care anymore. Might as well end it now.
“No, like I care about a lost soul. A soul who needs purpose and life that only Jesus can give.” Sydney’s voice broke.
Now Drew felt bad. Why did a girl’s tears have so much influence over guys? It wasn’t fair.
“Sydney, I’m going to be honest and tell you right now that there is no way that you are going to convince me that some god is in control and loves anyone down here … especially now. This world is a mess, and I’ve seen too much, literally, to believe in that baloney.”
“I know that may be how it seems to you, but all things work together for good to them that love God.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? That all of this is for my own good? For Ben’s good?”
“God can use tragedy to bring about goo
d, Drew. I believe that one day you will see that and understand it.”
“What I understand is that Ben has disappeared and I am blind and miserable. No good can come from that.”
Just then his mom returned with drinks for all of them. They were forced into trivial conversation. He wanted it to end so he could get something to eat. When Drew and his mom escorted Sydney to the door, she turned to Drew and gave him a quick hug.
“I will always be praying for you,” she whispered.
Drew said nothing and was happy to be done with the visit. The girl he once thought he’d like to date had become an enigma to him, one that left him feeling uneasy and confused whenever he encountered her.
He heard his mother open the door for Sydney, and a bright light flashed across his eyes again, except there was a darkened outline where he thought Sydney would be. This one hurt. He winced.
Residual visual optic nerve activity … yeah right!
DREW CONTINUED TO EXPERIENCE bright flashes of light, and the more they occurred, the more they hurt. Darkened outlines of doors, windows, and people now accompanied every flash of light. He didn’t dare hope to fully regain his eyesight, but seeing anything rather than utter darkness was encouraging. He decided to keep the changes in his sight to himself. Anything to avoid seeing that depressing ophthalmologist again. After a few weeks passed and the darkened outlines cleared somewhat, the bright flashes stopped. Instead, dull, milky images danced in his vision, reflecting actual movement. It was then that he realized the truth:
He was recovering at least some of his vision.
He dared not hope just yet, for if this was as good as it was going to get, he would still be classified as legally blind.
Four months out of the hospital, Drew questioned his own memory. Why was he still alive? If this invader or whatever he was had any power at all, why hadn’t he taken Drew out? The fact that he was still alive caused him to doubt everything he had experienced. Had he actually seen a man in the LASOK viewer? Drew found himself again in a mental exercise of futility. He came to three possible conclusions.
First, if there was an invader, the invader didn’t consider Drew a threat because the LASOK and most of the professor’s research had been destroyed. There was nothing that Drew, by himself, could do about it.