Cora (Of Earth or Erda)

by Skye, Relina

  "How can you tell?" came the response from an older sounding guy who was wearing a uniform.

  "Her pupils are not responding correctly to the light. Besides, I'm pre-med. They test us on this type of stuff." Mr. Doctor Wannabe braced my weight under one arm.

  "I'll just have to take your word for it," came the sarcastic response from Uniform Man.

  With the two of them practically carrying me down the stairs, I mentally checked out. It was like my brain couldn't bear the pain and the nausea, so it just decided to go on vacation.

  We moved inside, but that didn't stop the world from bobbing up and down.

  "Right here is good," spoke Uniform Man on my left.

  I felt them easing their arms out from under mine.

  "Make sure you keep her from falling asleep," said the Doctor Wannabe on my right.

  "I know that," came the response.

  Sleep. That sounded so good. My chin dropped forward onto my chest.

  "Hey! Stay with us!" A sharp pain exploded from my arm. I tried to swat it away, but it happened again in another spot. Doctor Wannabe was just itching to get a taste of my fist across his face.

  "Stop it," I muttered.

  "No."

  My eyes drooped closed once more, followed by another pinch. "Cut it out! Leave me alone!"

  "Miss, you banged your head into a pole. You have a severe head injury. You need to stay awake," explained Uniform Man.

  "No, I don't..." I mumbled.

  Two strong fingers pinched my chin. "Fall asleep now and you may never wake up again."

  I blinked before finding two warm, brown eyes staring into mine.

  "Sleep... good..."

  "Not right now. Hey, can you tell me your name? I bet it’s umm... Gladys."

  A snort escaped my lips. "Happy Butt is not my name."

  "Are you sure?" His lips twitched into a grin, causing a dimple to dent his cheek.

  I blinked as his nose turned into two and his eyes became four.

  "Miss?" The grin turned into a frown.

  "Hmm?"

  "What's your name?"

  "My name?"

  "Yes, your name."

  "It’s... I'm tired."

  "I know you are, but you have to stay awake. My name's Ian and your name is Gertrude?"

  "Gertie? Who's that?"

  "That's you."

  "No."

  "Then what is it?'

  "What is it?"

  "Your name."

  "My name?"

  "Yes, your name."

  "I'm confused."

  "That's your name?"

  "Confused? No. What's going on?"

  "You hit your head."

  "My head?"

  "Yes, your head. On a support pole."

  "A support pole?" My eyes darted around, looking for the offensive structure.

  "Not here, upstairs."

  "Upstairs?"

  "Yes, upstairs."

  "Not here?"

  "Not here."

  "Where is here?"

  "You're on a ferry."

  "A fairy? They don't live here."

  "Who doesn't live here?"

  "Fairies."

  "You are on a ferry boat."

  "Are you Charon?"

  "Charon? No, I'm Ian. Who's Charon?"

  "The ferry man."

  "The ferry man? Is that your name?" He looked over his shoulder at the elderly, balding man.

  "Nah, I'm Bill Gomez. I don't know anyone by the name of Charon.” He shifted his weight. "I'm going to radio in for an ambulance to meet us at the dock. She's obviously missing a few screws."

  "Was I building something?" I patted my pockets in a feeble attempt to find the screws.

  "Fine, go. I'll stay with her." Ian practically growled as he ran his fingers through his inky, black hair.

  "You don't have to. I'm okay now," I stated as I tilted my head to the side.

  "No, you're not." His four eyes became two once more.

  "That's a double negative. This makes a positive. So, I am okay." I beamed even though it hurt to smile.

  Bill Gomez, aka Uniform Man, shook his head and muttered something under his breath about coeds. He took a couple of steps before disappearing behind a metal door.

  "Okay, now that he's gone, why don't you cut the crap?" Ian's mouth tightened.

  I felt like giggling. "Why so serious?"

  "You did not just quote the Joker."

  "Who's the Joker? Is he a jester?"

  "Wow, you're a piece of work." He sat back on the plastic chair.

  "That's mean."

  "I call it like I see it." A ping from his phone caused him to pull it out of his pocket. After a quick text, his arms crossed in front of his chest. "Do you still feel like taking a nap?"

  "No, I'm okay now. The ringing in my ears is gone.”

  "Good. I need to make a call. I’ll be back." Standing, he gave me one last look before heading out the door.

  My head did feel better. Running my fingers through my hair, some stiff, rusty-colored stuff fell out, but where it came from, I had no idea.

  After a minute of taking in my surroundings, I decided they weren't much: powder-blue painted walls, a table, and a couple of chairs I decided to write a to-do list on my arm since I didn't have any paper to write on. One. Go to the hospital. Two. Get my head checked out. Three. Huh... I really wasn't sure what to do after that.

  Then I realized I had no idea why I was on the ferry. Where was I going? Where did I come from?

  The boat came to a jarring halt. It was time to leave.

  Getting up, I exited the room and moved directly into a crowd of people crossing a small bridge to the dock. No one seemed to be in a rush, nor did they pay attention to anyone but themselves and their friends. That bothered me. Not that I wanted anyone to notice me. My gut told me it was best to lay low.

  Once I left the line, I just kept on walking. Sure, there was a parking lot filled with cars nearby, but I couldn't remember if I parked there. Besides, where would I go? If someone were missing me, wouldn't they be here already? Waiting for me? I just didn't know. I kind of felt like I was trying to swim upstream in a fast moving river. My concentration was mainly centered on the idea that I had to keep moving. The why buzzed about my brain like an angry bee, so I chose to ignore it.

  My head didn't hurt as much anymore. And I couldn't feel any other types of aches or pains. Maybe everything would work itself out. I just needed to keep moving forward, one foot in front of the other.

  Sirens wailing nearby drew my attention for about a second before I mentally blocked them out. All around me the crowd seemed to be thinning. Some went to their cars, others to a nearby train and bus station. The ones closest to me moved toward a cluster of stores, several restaurants and the nearby apartments.

  I followed the ones heading toward the stores, hoping something might be familiar to me. But the harder I focused on each sign, the more doubt filled my mind.

  The greasy scent of roasting meat wafted on the breeze, blocking out the salt of the bay air and making my stomach rumble. My mouth watered at the thought of eating, but as soon as the wind changed directions, I managed to ignore the sensation. I figured I could always eat later. The when and where didn’t currently concern me.

  It wasn't until I saw a blue sign with a capital “H” in the middle of it that a sudden thought nudged my mind. Why was that important? An arrow just below the sign pointed down a perpendicular street. Maybe I should follow it?

  That seemed as good an idea as any. Truly, I didn't have anything else to do, nor could I think of anything better. Deep down, I knew that should have bothered me, but it didn't.

  As my feet carried me across the street and out of the tourist area, I wove my way past private businesses that were closed for the day. Besides the occasional dog walkers and stroller-pushing parents, there weren’t too many people on the streets.

  The signs with the “H”s on them were spaced pretty far apart, but clos
e enough that I could spot one several blocks away.

  Reds and purples replaced the deep blue of the evening sky. By the time I reached the second sign, only a wisp of color clung to the darkening sky. Street lamps suddenly blinked on, illuminating the sidewalk and casting a cool, white glow.

  I was so lost in the beauty of the setting sun that I failed to notice how long it took to get to the next sign.

  "You! Stop right there!" shouted some guy from nearby.

  My gaze swung left, then right. No one else was on the street. I turned around finally to find a uniformed police officer standing in front of his cruiser.

  "Are you talking to me?" I asked as my brows scrunched together. What did I do wrong? This was a public street so I knew I wasn't trespassing.

  "Yes, you." He held his hand out as if he were trying to calm a rapid dog. Speaking into the radio on his shoulder, he said, "What was the description of that woman again? Over."

  "White female, long, dark hair, gray eye color, about twenty to twenty-five years old standing about five-foot-five to five-foot-seven, and wearing a dark blue university sweatshirt."

  "I found her. Over." The officer shifted his stance. "Miss, you need to come with me."

  "Am I under arrest?"

  "No."

  "Then I'm confused. Why do I need to come with you?"

  He took a deep breath. "Miss, there was a report of a woman who hit her head fitting your description on the ferry. I just want to take you to the hospital."

  "Oh, okay." I looked down at my arm where I wrote my to-do list. "I was on my way there right now."

  "You'd get there faster if you let me drive you."

  I took a step forward, but then stopped. My gut told me something was off about this situation, but I couldn't pinpoint what it was. "Do I have to sit in the back?"

  He took a small step towards me. Shadows obscured his facial features, blocking me from getting a good look at him.

  "If I allow you to sit up front, will you promise not to touch anything?"

  I chewed on my lip, my suspicions still gnawing at my gut. "I don't know you."

  "Miss," his tone sounded strained, "I took an oath to serve and protect the public. I'm not going to hurt you."

  All I had was a bad feeling with nothing to back it up. "Can I see your badge first?"

  "Yes, fine." He flipped it open for about two seconds before putting it back in his pocket.

  Reluctantly, I walked around the car to the other side. Taking my backpack off, I slid into the passenger seat. Gadgets of all sorts cluttered the dashboard and the space between the driver and passenger seat.

  I clipped on my seatbelt as he sat down.

  "Mind telling me why you left the ferry?" he asked as he pulled out onto the street.

  "We docked,” popped out of my mouth. "That's what most folks do when the ferry docks."

  "Yes, but you were told that the ferry man was calling an ambulance."

  "Oh... I guess I forgot."

  "Does that happen a lot?"

  "Does what happen a lot?"

  "You know, forgetting stuff?"

  "I... I don't know. I should know, right?” My heartbeat sped up. Something was wrong with me, but I didn't know what.

  His car turned into the parking lot in front of the hospital. "I personally think you should. Have you, I don't know, gotten into anything strange lately, street drugs maybe?"

  "Drugs?" I thought about it. "Why would I take those? I'm not sick."

  "Alcohol, perhaps?"

  The thought of drinking alcohol made me want to gag. "No!"

  Now that we were parked, he took the key out of the ignition. From the side, I could see the outline of his profile. His hair was clipped close to his head, and a scar curved down from the brim of his hat, all along his temple and past his ear. "That must have hurt."

  He shifted his torso toward me. "What?"

  I lifted my hand to point toward the scar and then traced my finger over it, stopping where it ended.

  His brows knitted together over his light green eyes. "Yes, of course it did. We really need to get you inside. A friend of mine works here. He'll take good care of you."

  When he turned his head again, I could swear the scar disappeared. Either I was seeing things, or the lack of light was playing tricks on me. And I still had a bad feeling doing the cha-cha in the pit of my stomach.

  The officer exited the vehicle and made his way around to my side of the car. He opened the door for me and helped me stand before escorting me into the emergency room with his hand settled on the small of my back.

  At the check-in desk, he cleared his throat to get the attention of the young nurse who was occupied on the phone. When she saw us standing there, she took another few seconds to type something into her computer before giving us her full attention.

  Twirling a loose strain of long, blonde hair back into place, she looked him over before saying, "Officer Swift, how may I help you?"

  "You know the answer to that, Candy, but until then, could you page Dr. Putnam for me?"

  Her bright blue eyes shifted toward me. Raising a single brow, she gave him a quick look before returning her gaze to me. "Yes, of course."

  I thought the exchange was a bit odd, but I didn't say anything to her. While she was on the phone, I turned toward Officer Swift and asked, "Is Dr. Putnam a neurologist?"

  "He's something like that." He shrugged, lifting one shoulder.

  "Good, because my head is feeling a lot better. Maybe the damage isn't so bad."

  I heard a slight, breathy, "Wow" come from Nurse Candy, but when I glanced toward her, her eyes were focused on the screen in front of her.

  "We'll let the doctor decide that," Officer Swift stated with a slight smirk on his lips.

  I was about to respond when the monotone sound of another male voice interrupted. "Swift!" I turned to find a tall man with dark blonde hair and a pronounced, square jaw. He was wearing a white lab coat over a suit and tie.

  "Putnam." The men clasped hands. "I have a patient for you. She reportedly hit her head so hard on a pole that she can't even remember her own name."

  "That’s terrible." Nurse Candy sounded like she was speaking to a small child.

  Swift shot her a look.

  "What? It is. Who am I going to send the bill to?" she muttered under her breath. Obviously, I could still hear her, but she pretended I couldn't.

  "We'll worry about that later." Dr. Putnam gave both of them a stern look. "Candace, I'm going to need some assistance. When Debbie comes down to relieve you, please come up and join us."

  Her shoulders straightened and her demeanor brightened. "Okay!"

  "Excellent; shall we?" Dr. Putnam made a sweeping motion for me to follow him.

  As we walked, he asked me a series of questions that I had no answers for. He asked me to repeat my name, birthdate, phone number, address, social security number, as well as any allergies I might have had.

  "Are you sure you're not allergic to silver?" he asked as we entered an exam room somewhere on the fifth floor.

  "Silver? That's an odd allergy." I jumped when the door closed behind me. Officer Swift leaned against the closed door with his arms crossed in front of his chest. For the first time since I arrived at the hospital, I thought it was bizarre for him to remain with us. Wasn’t a physical exam between a doctor and his patient supposed to be private?

  "How about iron?" Dr. Putnam asked as he unlocked a cabinet on the opposite wall.

  "Iron?" I thought about it for a moment. It didn't seem to feel scary, so I said, "No. Not that I'm aware."

  "That's good. Very good," he stated as he jotted something down on a clipboard he pulled out from the cabinet.

  A knock on the door drew my attention back to the police officer. He opened it just a crack before letting Candy into the room. Now, with four of us in there, it was a little bit cramped, but we still had enough space to move around.

  "Thank you for joining us, Candace. Please go down
the checklist with the patient. The top part is obviously blank due to her lack of memory."

  Candace picked up the clipboard and nodded. "Okay."

  I gave her an encouraging smile. She was probably a little younger than me. Her hand shook as she adjusted her grip on the pen.

  "We're just going to fill in some of the basic exam items," she said with a straight face. "Could you please take off your sweatshirt and shoes so that I can get your height and weight?"

  That seemed normal enough. I still felt odd with the police officer standing there watching us, but my mind came to the conclusion that he was there to protect the doctor and nurse in case I was actually a crazy person ready to go berserk if my switch flipped.

  I pulled off my backpack and placed it on the only chair in the room. My cap came off next, followed by the sweatshirt. I forgot that I was wearing a black, sleeveless top underneath. "Shall I take this off too?"

  "No, you’re good," she said. After jotting down my height and weight, she motioned for me to sit on the exam table.

  "Thank you, Candace. I'll take it from here." The doctor stepped around the table so that I didn't have to turn. "Swift, could you handle the lights please?"

  The officer flipped one switch on and the other off. A spotlight shone on the side wall, casting all of our shadows onto the opposite wall.

  "Now, please direct your attention to the shadows on the wall."

  I counted four, one for each of us. And then there were three. The doctor's shadow disappeared for a few seconds before reappearing. I gasped. The officer's shadow did the same thing followed by Candace’s.

  A witch and two wizards! popped into my mind. My shadow blinked out and then it came back a few seconds later. It was a test. That meant I was a witch too.

  The lights shifted back to their original illumination. As I turned my head, my gut began to churn; but before I could react, a sharp pain in my neck took my breath away.

  "Wow, I'm shocked she lasted this long." Candace's voice sounded far away before my brain refused to function anymore.

  Chapter Three

  "Why do we live with our coven?" a young girl's voice whispered in my mind's eye. Her image was still blurry.

  "Very good question. Who knows the answer?" stated an elderly woman. She looked a bit more focused than the girl had only a few seconds ago. "Yes, Donald?"