Exchange

by Katherine Rhodes

  Vance leaned his elbows on his knees and spoke, but to the floor. I knew this body posture—it was one of the telltale signs of a confidence the other person didn’t really want to give.

  “Lincoln came home from that last auction with the kids, and they’ve been in the hospital since. They were both pretty sick and pretty messed up. I know you know that—Wren was the one who wanted them to be checked in and monitored.

  “When he got back from the hospital, he crawled into bed and all he’s done is piss and drink. Water! Not even alcohol. I managed to sneak in some chicken soup and a protein shake every day, but he just lays here. He won’t talk to me, the television is off, he’s not using the computer. If it weren’t for the fact that he gets out of bed to piss, I would call him catatonic.”

  “He hasn’t moved?”

  “Like I said. Bathroom and back into the bed.”

  “For two weeks?”

  “Well, ten days,” Vance said.

  “And me because?”

  “You understand the brain. You’re the only one I think can help him.”

  There was something in Vance’s eyes…a sadness and surety that made me believe he didn’t want to be there. Which was why I believed his claim I was the only one who could help.

  I didn’t recall doing anything to Vance ever to make an enemy of him. He didn’t, though, consider me a friend. His appearance here, in my office, was a huge red flag about how much he was really worried about his boss.

  Glancing at the clock, I sighed. “I have two more appointments for the day. Can I swing by the place after that? I’ll bring some basic equipment, but if he’s as bad as you say, we may have to talk about a facility. Behavioral or physical.”

  “You want to put him in the nut house?”

  My hand slapped the desktop. “It’s a behavioral hospital. I am not saying he’s insane, or even a little off, but if there’s nothing physically wrong, then it’s the best care facility for him.”

  Vance slumped back a bit. “Sorry, Doc. I get protective of him. He’s been through a lot.”

  “I get that, and sorry about the outburst. I get defensive of behavioral hospitals. They fight an uphill battle.”

  He nodded and stood, then stuck out his hand. “Fair enough. I’ll let the staff know you should be there about five-thirty. Good?”

  “Good,” I answered.

  He headed out the door and I stood there staring at it for a long moment. I didn’t understand why he would have come to me. It wasn’t as though Lincoln was my best friend or something.

  Was it possible he was so messed up about something Vance wanted a neurologist to help?

  I made sure to focus on the last two patients, both of whom were established with me. One a check-in, because she’d been doing so well, and one a medicine switch he initiated against my advice. He’d be back in a week and I had the receptionist make him an appointment.

  Once they were gone, we cleaned and closed as quickly as possible, and I set the alarm on the way out. As was predictable, my receptionist flirted with me and tried to get me to go to dinner with her.

  Despite her knowing that Wren and I were involved.

  I really needed to replace this woman. We had enough problems without her making more.

  Peeling away from her lecherous glances, I hopped into the car and took off out of the parking garage and headed for Lincoln Foster’s home at the Locks.

  Of course, the guy did nothing understated. There were only a handful of the townhomes on the Schuykill River, and he had picked the opulent floor plan. Vance was waiting for me in the sunroom on the first floor and, true to Lincoln’s style, he ushered me into an elevator.

  I thought my house was over the top with its sprawling lawns and ten bedrooms? Nope. The elevator had a marble floor, cherry paneling on either side, and a single large mirror at the back. The door outside the four person car was a wood and glass panel door to allow you to see the floor. The car door was the same, but it slid closed at the same time as the outer.

  The elevator rose through the house, letting me catch glimpses of the gourmet kitchen, the bedrooms, and some ridiculous art and to the third floor, where there was more ridiculous art. It was clear the whole top floor was his.

  Vance motioned me out of the car and into the hall, then off to the right.

  While Lincoln’s bedroom wasn’t enormous, it was opulent in the most understated manner I’d ever seen. It was easy to see that everything was expensive. Not gaudy look at my money, but high quality, rich, decadent, and worth every penny he’d probably spent on it.

  And in the middle of his 600-count pure Egyptian cotton sateen sheets, the lump that was Lincoln lay perfectly still, staring out the window, away from where Vance and I had walked in. The mop of black hair poked out, looking ragged and in desperate need of a wash. I was sure he smelled awesome too.

  “How long again?”

  “Ten days.”

  I walked around the bed and found Lincoln’s eyes open and dead. It was as though he had completely vacated his body. He didn’t seem to see me, and just kept staring straight ahead.

  “Lincoln?” I asked, looking down at him. “Can you answer me, man?”

  Nothing. Just a dead man’s stare. I put the doctor’s bag down on the nightstand and popped it open, grabbing my stethoscope and pen light.

  Leaning down, I clicked on the light and shone it in his eyes, trying to gauge his pupillary reaction. They were responsive and even. He, however didn’t do more than a mere flicker when the light hit his eyes. Nothing there, wrong or right.

  Slipping the pen light back in the bag, I grabbed his hand and timed his pulse. It was rapid for someone in bed, but not dangerous. I gave a listen to his heart, then his lungs, then his circulation in his neck.

  He never moved, he never fought me.

  Jesus, what happened to this guy? He was a greedy, arrogant prick the last dozen times I’d seen him, and now he was nearly comatose.

  Nothing, absolutely nothing, that had gone on since meeting Wren had been normal.

  I ran a hand over my face and folded my arms. I was about to ask Vance something, when I realized he wasn’t in the room. I headed for the door and called down the stairs. I heard him on the third floor calling back. As I walked down, he appeared out of a bedroom at the front of the house.

  The man looked utterly wrecked.

  “Yeah?” he asked.

  “He’s normally responsive, but…” I shook my head. “I think what we need to do is make a list of what’s gone on and what he’s eaten since this happened. We have to look for clues that will let us into what’s going on in his head. I’d like to ask Wren over, too. She’s the one who’s good with psychological issue—”

  I cut myself off when Vance stumbled and needed to grab the wall. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “We need Wren?”

  “She’s the social worker therapist,” I answered. “Vance, man…”

  He pointed to the door at the back of the hall. “Go. Look.”

  I was confused, but there was something going on here that I needed to understand. Walking to the back of the hall, I pushed open the door.

  The room was filled with things for kids. Young kids. Seven-year-olds. One half of the room was done in all royal purple accents and the other was done in all pastel yellow accents. Both sides were piled with toys and clothes and games for the kids, and they had desks and computers and there were televisions mounted above the loft beds on each side.

  “What the hell…” I whispered, walking in.

  Vance stayed in the door, leaning against the frame. “It took him two days to do this. Just two. He was going to surprise them when they got home from the hospital. He wanted to give them everything they never had.

  “But I found him, on the third day, pacing back and forth in here, raking a hand through his hair, mumbling and shouting. He was crumbling as I watched. Something was eating at him, burning under his skin. He tripped as he went back and forth,
and I was barely able to catch him.

  “It took all I had to get him up and into the bedroom. He was stumbling, incoherent, and…he’s been like what you see up there since then.” Vance ran a hand through his hair. “I have no idea what happened. None.”

  “You waited this long?” I was floored. “Ten days.”

  “Fischer, I had to. Even asking you for help puts me in a precarious position. Bringing Wren in…” His eyes misted and his words were thick in his throat after that. “Do what you must. It’s all forfeit at this point anyway.”

  “What—”

  Vance held up a hand. “Don’t ask. Forget I said it. Do what you have to.”

  I stared at the man in the door. “Vance, what the fuck is going on?”

  “The inevitable, at this point.” He sighed. “Please, can you help him?”

  I nodded. “I’m going to take some blood and run a few tests. He drinking and urinating.”

  “That’s about it. Plus chicken soup and that once in a while protein shake.”

  “Good,” I said. “I’ll get the blood to the lab right now and we’ll have results in a few hours. I’ll be back with those and Wren tonight.”

  His head drooped, but the nod was clear. I walked over to him and slapped a hand on his shoulder. “Dude. I don’t know what’s going on here, but don’t be afraid to talk to me. I’ve seen some shit, and there’s very little that would shock me.”

  Raising his head, he blinked slowly and considered me. “You’re just not ready for this. I’m not either.” He swallowed. “None of us are, but the fact of the matter is, we have to face it. I love him like my brother…” Vance looked pale, sickly, and very much like he wanted to go back in time and change everything.

  Turning, he headed for the bedroom he had come out of. “Do you have a brother, Fischer?”

  “Yes, I do. Older. Colman Skillman.”

  “You love him?”

  “I worshipped him as a kid. He’s still one of my best friends.”

  He stopped at his door, but didn’t turn around. “What would you do if you found out something had to happen that would crush his world?”

  “I wouldn’t do it. Ever.”

  “Not even if the fate of creation rested on this decision?”

  I balked. “I would like to say not even then. But then, I can’t believe a decision would ever be that powerful.”

  Vance looked over his shoulder at me. “Remember that, Fischer. Remember what you just said.” He stepped into his room and closed the door.

  What the actual fuck was going on around here? Vance and Lincoln weren’t related, were they? He had said he loved him like a brother, not that he was his brother.

  Why would that have anything to do with Lincoln’s comatose state anyway?

  Taking a deep breath after the door closed, I headed back up the stairs to draw the blood and start working on this mess. Something bizarre was going on, and I just didn’t have time to figure it out.

  I walked into the house and found Wren and Ellie sitting at the kitchen table.

  “Where have you two been?”

  Wren picked at fingernail. “We wound up crashing at Miriam and Laxmi’s house.” She looked up from her fingers. “They’re married.”

  I slapped a hand on the wall to hold myself up. “Excuse me?”

  “They got married at the beginning of the week,” Ellie offered.

  “Why on Earth did you stay at their house last night if they are newlyweds?”

  Ellie cleared her throat and looked at Wren. Wren looked at me and I decided it was time to sit down. “Look, you two, I’ve had a shit day, and it’s not over yet. Lincoln is comatose, and his blood work is at the lab. Wren, I really need you to come with me when I get the results. Something is wrong and what the fucking fuck!”

  I threw myself backward in the chair as my daughter suddenly had wings—fucking wings—and a goddamn flaming sword in the middle of my kitchen.

  I gawked. I couldn’t help it. They were huge black wings with red flames on the edges, and while she kept them close to her body, there was no way to deny their massive size.

  I stared at them, and then at the sword, and then the wings and…I blinked, speechless for a few more seconds.

  “Are they going to set anything on fire?”

  Ellie burst into tears and I reversed course and leapt forward to gather her into my arms. “Oh, baby doll. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but it’s going to be all right. I promise. I swear. It’s going to be all right.”

  Wren let out a sob as well, and then wrapped her arms around both of us.

  “What is going on?” I whispered to both of them. “Why on Earth do you have wings?”

  “I wasn’t supposed to get them yet,” Ellie said. “I’m supposed to be older.”

  “Fischer, I don’t think we can explain this quickly,” Wren said, sitting back down. “There’s so much fucked up stuff going on right now…”

  Glancing at her, she was very very worried about Ellie, and I couldn’t blame her. I mean, wings…I paused for a moment and considered Ellie.

  “Does this have to do with your visions, Wren?”

  “No one will give me a straight answer—”

  I snapped around to her. “No one who?”

  “Miriam, Laxmi. Lily to some degree.”

  “They are going to teach me.” Ellie’s voice was a little wobbly, but not terrible.

  “Wren?”

  “To some degree I’m not sure of, yes. This is all related.”

  Putting my hand on Ellie’s cheek, I smiled at her through the terror in my gut. “Can you put those away? Is that something they taught you?”

  She nodded and a moment after her screwing up her face in concentration the wings and sword were just not there anymore.

  I was impressed and terrified at the same time.

  “So we obviously have to talk about this, but I also have to go back to Lincoln’s place as soon as possible when the blood work comes back. He’s fallen into a comatose state and Vance is all screwed up about it.”

  “Why didn’t you put him in the hospital?” Wren asked.

  “Vance got weird about it,” I answered. After I had voiced my concern that Lincoln had shown almost no reaction to being poked and prodded. I wanted to take Lincoln to the hospital and he got bent out of shape. “The lab I went to is twenty-four hours, so we should be able to head over there as soon as I get the call their ready. I need you to come with me, Wren and I don’t know if having Ellie around him his a good idea right now.”

  “You want us to leave her alone here?” Wren asked.

  Ellie started laughing. “I can conjure up a flaming sword, I think I’ll be okay.”

  Wren choked. “But…”

  “I also have homework.”

  Wren flicked her eyes between me and Ellie and back again, and gave a chuckle. “Homework. Seems…”

  “Incongruent with wings and swords?” I offered.

  “That would be an understatement.”

  Ellie patted Wren’s hand. “Look, I’m freaked about this more than I can say, but doing something like homework will take the edge off my mood. It’s normal for a sixteen year old to do that. So I want to pretend I’m a normal sixteen year old. For now.” She dropped her head onto her hand a moment. “I’ll deal with the magical bullshit over the summer, maybe.”

  My brain wanted to reject the magical part of the bullshit, but at the same time, I had the feeling this magical mystery tour of bullshit was just getting started.

  Wren

  The blood had all come back normal. Fischer and I pored over it—he had wisely done a full panel, and some extras for neurological markers.

  But there was nothing. Nothing out of place, nothing low or elevated. He had a perfect panel.

  Fischer pointed at the paperwork accusingly. “You see why I wanted to put him in the hospital?”

  Vance shook his head. “I don’t. Everything looks perfect.”

  “
Exactly!” Fischer said, tossing his hands out. “I can’t bring a CT machine here. I can’t give him an EKG in his bedroom. I can’t do an ultrasound.”

  “On his head?”

  “On his spine,” Fischer growled the words.

  I put a hand on his forearm. “Vance, we’re all very tired. Let’s go up and see him, and then we’ll have to make a call. We all want Lincoln to be okay, and if we have to put him in the hospital to do that, then so be it.”

  “I…I really don’t want to put him in the hospital…”

  Vance was pale and shaking. I was starting to wonder if the blood panel had effed up and not caught a poison, or if they were suffering from the same virus.

  Shaking my head, I let out a slow breath. “I know you don’t, no one ever really wants to go into the hospital, but it’s the best place for us to monitor and diagnose him if we’ve really got no idea.”

  Waving his hand at the stairs, he put his head back down on the table. “Go ahead. I’ll wait here. He’s all yours.”

  “Vance…” I started.

  “Don’t. Just don’t ask. I’ll wait here.”

  I pursed my lips, but nodded. Motioning to the stairs, Fischer and I walked up to the fourth floor from the kitchen on the second.

  It was bad. I knew it was bad. Worse, I thought, than Fischer had led me to believe.

  Lincoln stared straight ahead, out the window into the darkness, or maybe at the reflection of the light on the window. He was not there. His presence was missing from his eyes.

  “Pen light?” I asked and it was offered before I even had my hand out.

  “They were equal and reactive earlier,” Fischer said.

  I clicked it on and looked in at an angle. I saw the muscle twitch. I pushed the light as close as I dare, and turned it to shine directly on to the optic nerve at the back.

  His whole body jerked.

  “There he is,” Fischer breathed out.

  “He’s there.” I nodded. “We’re going to have a time waking him up, but he’s there.”

  “Acupuncture stimulation?” he offered.

  “A place to start.” I nodded. “We might have to go more mystical shit, like aligning his chakras, but does that really shock you at this point?”