The Artist – August 2009 Part VI

When I woke up, it was evening again. Apparently, I’d slept through the entire day – aside from being woken up to be given medicines or have my temperature taken. Around seven Dr. Jack, Brian and Nathan came into my room and closed the door behind them. That was when I knew something big was up. Especially with the looks on both Brian and Jack’s faces. The two of them kept glancing uneasily at Nathan, which started making me nervous about him all over again.

Something in my eyes must’ve shown because Nathan paused as he started to sit down next to my bed again. Frowning, he looked from me to the other two and back. Finally he said, “Great, now I know how you two guys felt when I was in mental contact with her, this morning. Now is anyone going to let me in on the secret or are we going to play charades? Which would be really tough on her, considering her condition.”

I made a little noise to get his attention and then began inhaling deeply to get my point across.

“Oh, right,” Nathan nodded and once more one of his hands misted allowing me to breath it in and communicate more freely.

“Why are they staring at you so anxiously?” I asked mentally, trying to keep my own anxiety in check.

Nathan gave the other two a look and turned back to me. “Because, I told them what I have in mind to help you finish your art piece in time for the exhibition,” he said gently. “However, neither of them are all that sure you’re going to like my proposal, or at least what it involves.”

While I couldn’t move my jaw without severe pain, I had no problem raising a questioning eyebrow at him. Finally I thought, “Care to elaborate?”

He thought for a moment before saying, “Depends. Do you want the full-scale slideshow presentation or the bottom line version?”

“Bottom line, please,” was my reply.

“I’m going to give you access to my eyes and control of my hands,” Nathan answered.

“Come again?” I asked mentally.

Leaning forward he explained. “As you said yesterday, I don’t have the skills to manipulate the clay and do what’s needed to get your sculpture ready.  But you do. You know how the clay should feel and how to handle the tools and whatnot. However, you can’t leave this bed, at least not physically. But,  what if I took you with me to the studio ‘mentally’ so to speak?”

I admit I was both puzzled and intrigued. “Do you mean like how we’re communicating right now? Through this bond you made?”

“It will be something a bit stronger,” he replied and leaned forward. “You’d actually be able to see through my eyes and even feel whatever I touch or manipulate with my hands.”

For a moment I was tempted, then shook my head. “You still wouldn’t know how to manipulate the clay or the tools…” I began.

“But you would if I let you control my hands,” he cut in patiently. “Which is what I plan to do. Once we were in the studio I’d let you take over, up to a point. I’d get everything ready, under your guidance, but when it came time to actually work on the sculpture you’d be in charge. I’d be sort of in the background watching and experiencing what you do.”

It sounded insane, yet at the same time I was intrigued. Then a thought hit. “What about my body back here? What will be happening to it?” 

“You’d basically be asleep,” Nathan assured me. “You’d still be breathing and everything, It would just be your conscious self would be awake seeing and feeling through me.”

I had to admit it sounded like a very good idea. Yet I couldn’t stop glancing over at Brian and Jack, who were still looking uneasy, even worried.

They must’ve caught me staring at them because Brian finally spoke up. “Before anyone gets too excited, Nathan you might want to tell her what has to happen for this little experiment to take place.”

Immediately, my heart sank. For Brian to look this worried, it had to be something bad. Turning my gaze to Nathan I thought, “Is there something you haven’t brought up yet?”


Without blinking my would-be savior shifted uncomfortably and then glared at the other two. For a second he put me in mind of the cartoon mouse “The Brain” shooting a dirty look at his partner “Pinky”. A silent exchange of heated gestures passed between the three of them, before Nathan finally turned back to me and smiled sheepishly. “As a matter of fact, yes. Yes, there is…”

“And what is it?” Even without being able to move my mouth, I managed to put an pointed edge to the question.

“To make this happen, I’ll need to bite you,” he winced.

TO BE CONTINUED…

“The Artist” – August 2009 Part – V

*A quick note from one of the authors: Sorry for the delay in getting this part uploaded, but both WordPress and Blogger have been making changes to their systems lately and that threw me for a while. I’m still having trouble with Blogger, which hosts the sister-site to this blog, so this installment is only appearing here. Hope to keep things more regular in the future as this story has grown much larger life than I’d originally anticipated. But the payoff will be well worth it I think. I love exploring some of the new ways of using Nathan’s abilities. So without further ado, let us continue the story…”

 

After a few seconds, Nathan came back with Dr. Jack. If I could have, I would’ve been grinning from ear to ear. Yet somehow he sensed the change in my attitude towards him. For one thing he smiled, then came over and pulled up a chair next to my bed. My mind raced with questions, especially one… but then I remembered I couldn’t speak or use my hands.

He must’ve seen something in my eyes, because he frowned and asked softly, “Is my being so close a problem?”

Forgetting myself I started to shake my head a little too vigorously, which caused me to let out a groan of pain.

Nathan reached out a hand and touched my brow and said, “Easy. Listen, I can tell you want to say something important. And I think I know a way to help, but I’m going to need you to trust me. Can you do that?”

I managed a little “Uh-huh…” noise in my throat.

Green_Mist_by_Devvyn

“Good,” he replied gently and held up a hand. A moment later, a greenish mist began emanating from his sleeve. Before I knew it, I couldn’t see his hand anymore, only the mist, only now I could also detect little flashes of blue in the miasma. “If you breathe this in, it will allow us to make a mental connection between us. I won’t be able to read your mind, but I’ll be able to get impressions of what you want to say and I can act as your voice. Are you all right with that?”

This time I gave him several muffled but eager “Uh-huhs.”

“Okay,” he nodded and brought the sleeve with the mist closer to my face. “Now, just breathe normally, there’s no need to inhale deeply.”

For the record, I really tried to do as he instructed. But I was so eager to try to communicate with everyone I wound up doing an impression of a junkie with couple of rolled up twenties stuffed up my nose.

Nathan pulled his arm back and stared at the now empty cuff  muttering, “I’m going to need that hand back eventually.”

I started to mentally apologize when suddenly I heard my thoughts come out of his mouth. “Sorry about that. I hope I didn’t… Oh my God you’re talking in my voice!”

Nathan gave me an embarrassed grin.  “I hope you don’t mind, I just thought it would be easier to do things this way so these two would know who’s saying what.”

Glancing over at Brian and Dr. Jack I could see they were both staring at us in surprise.

After a moment Brian said, “I had no idea you could do that, Nathan.”

psychic-connection

“It’s a little something Otto figured out some years ago on one of our expeditions to another Para-Earth,” my hero explained shyly. “We already knew I could help pacify a being who inhaled my mist form, by making our intentions known that we weren’t a threat. But he thought I could take it a little farther if I put a little more of myself into the mist to establish a rapport so to speak. Mind you it only works with beings whose minds are similar enough to ours in thought for me to understand what they want to say. Believe me, it doesn’t always work, but I knew it would in this case.”

He turned back to me then and asked, “Are you okay? Or is this too weird?”

Taking a deep breath, I shook my head slightly and thought, “No. In fact it’s more than I hoped for.” Admittedly seeing and hearing my thoughts coming out of his mouth, was kind of weird, but not so much that I didn’t want him to break our connection. With this new method of communication available to me, I told them everything that had been troubling me. They listened patiently and gave me all the assurances they could. But when I told them about the unfinished sculpture of my grandfather back in my studio and how important it was to me, they fell silent.

I think a full minute passed before Nathan broke the silence. “Even if we brought the piece here, there’s no way you could work on it. Not with your hands in their current state.”

I shook my head sadly.

He took a deep breath and looked down at his own. He had two again which surprised the rest of us.

Glancing up he noticed the rest of us staring and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, felt weird just having one, so I shaved a pound or two from other areas and grew a new one.” Then he turned to me and asked, “Here’s a thought. With our connection, would I be able to finish the piece under your guidance?”

Have you ever worked with clay before?”

“No, but I’m a fast learner,” he replied.

I sank into my pillow a little more and thought about it. After a few moments, I shook my head ever so slightly. Whenever I worked in clay there was a connection between me and my creation. I knew how the clay should feel as I smoothed and shaped it. There was no way I could convey these concepts and techniques by simply instructing him.

Nathan must’ve ‘heard’ my thoughts because he began nodding his head. “Yeah, I didn’t about that. You and the clay kind of become one when you’re working with it.” Then he stood up. “Let me give it some thought. I think there might be a way to help. Okay?”

I carefully nodded. And that’s where we left things. He came back the next evening with the most unbelievable suggestion I’d ever heard.

TO BE CONTINUED…

 

 

 

 

 

The Artist – August 2009 Part III

Of course the accident happened shortly after that and I wound up in the hospital. And as you know I received dozens of visitors who constantly reassured me that everything would be all right. Such words and sentiments were always welcome and helped make the day pass more easily.

But night-time was another matter. Everything would be quiet, aside from the staff making their rounds. Occasionally one would wake me up to draw blood or give me my medications, but for the most part I was on my own with only my thoughts for company. That’s when dealing with my situation became much harder.

That’s when all those little fears we keep hidden away come out to plague us. And believe me I had a lot of them which kept me company for hour after hour. Most of them involved not being able to use my hands to sculpt. I won’t tell you how many times I wound up crying myself to sleep, but it happened a lot. I tried to keep quiet about it (which should have been easy with my mouth wired shut), but one person found out.

I woke one morning to someone gently dabbing the sides of my eyes with handkerchief. It was Brian. Dr. Jack Tyler, my physician and our mutual friend, had allowed him in before visiting hours had officially begun. Jack had noticed the tear soaked tissues before and had tried to draw me. I would’ve have loved to have told him what was wrong, but first and foremost he was my doctor. A doctor in frequent demand so we kept getting interrupted. After a while I just stopped trying.

Luckily, Jack is someone who doesn’t give up easily, especially when you’re his patient as well as his friend. So he’d gone out of his way to get Brian here to make sure they found out what was troubling me. By this time I was able to make some sounds, but understanding me was not easy. Yet somehow we managed.

 As it turned out, both of them suspected I was worried about my works in progress back at the studio. With this in mind, Brian had gone to check on things for me. He even took photos on his phone and shared them with me.

While I was relieved to see everything was still untouched, a part of me felt guilty at the same time. Seeing my kiln just sitting there waiting to be filled, or my tools just hanging on their hooks, they it all looked so lonely. Then I saw the piece of my grandfather, still wrapped in the plastic just as I’d left it. That’s when the tears began to flow.

It took Jack and Brian some time, but they managed to understand to get the full story out of me.

The date of the exhibition, which was still going to happen, was also my mother’s birthday that she shared with her father. It would have been his 108th. I had secretly been planning to have his sculpture to be the centerpiece of the show, as well as a gift to both my mom and his memory.

Once they understood, Brian exchanged a look with Jack who nodded. Then he turned back to me and said, “Don’t worry, it’s going to be all right. Just trust me.”

In spite of the fact that I had absolutely no idea what they had planned, something about Brian’s tone was extremely reassuring.  After that, they talked about their families and kept me amused for another half an hour. By then I was feeling tired again and managed to drift off without the help of medication for a change.

The rest of the day passed as all the others had, medications, smoothie meals, and television. There were a couple of more visitors, but it’s what the night brought that I really want to talk about. Or rather, who it brought.

I’d been listening to an audiobook with my eyes closed, so I never heard my visitors arrive. It wasn’t until Brian gently tapped my shoulder that I realized anyone had come. Looking up I saw him and Jack smiling down at me. Then from behind them Nathan popped his head out and waved at me.

Unable to help myself, I shuddered.

TO BE CONTINUED…