Yeah, sure. Now you’re working just fine. Stupid car.
“Eh ... not exactly,” Grayson said. “The effects of a coup contrecoup injury are usually temporary. But, then again, they can last a long time, too.”
I steered the car out onto Obsidian Road. “How do you know all this stuff?”
“Head injuries can change people. They can cause your personality to shift—your brain function to shift. In some cases, even your brain capabilities to shift. That’s how I got my eidetic memory.”
“I have an idiotic memory, too,” I said. “Why is it that I can only remember totally useless stuff?”
“Not idiotic. Eidetic. I have total recall of stuff I’ve seen for just a few seconds. My memory’s like a photo album. I can kind of go in and view memories like they’re photographs.”
“You’re saying you have a photographic memory?”
“Yes and no. With a photographic memory, you can recall pages of text, lists of numbers, that kind of thing. But a true photographic memory has never been proven to exist.”
I shot Grayson some sarcastic side-eye. “Tell that to anyone who’s ever walked in on their parents in bed together.”
Grayson laughed. “Fair enough.”
“So you got your great memory from an accident,” I said. “Should I believe you, or is this another cover story? Maybe you’re really some super-brained alien from another planet.”
Grayson’s lip curled sinisterly. “I’d tell you, Drex, but then I’d have to erase your memory.”
I nearly steered into the ditch. “You can do that?”
“Your question is irrelevant,” he said in a strange, robotic tone.
I thought about punching the jerk in the arm. Instead, I decided to take the bait. “Why?” I asked.
Grayson smiled at me, then spoke in his normal voice. “Because, Drex. If I could erase your memory, how would you ever know?”
“DR. BROWN WILL SEE you now,” the nurse said. The look on her face made me feel as if she’d read my charts and knew I shouldn’t be buying any green bananas.
“Come in with me,” I pleaded with Grayson, and took his hand. I still had serious doubts about the guy, but if some stranger in a lab coat was going to walk into a room that smelled like disinfectant and tell me I only had hours to live, I didn’t want to be alone when I heard the news.
Any port in a storm.
“Ms. Drex,” Dr. Brown said as I entered his office. He looked surprised when Grayson followed me in. “Who’s this?”
“My fiancé,” I said. I smiled and squeezed Grayson’s hand. He surprised me by squeezing back. My already pounding heart thumped a beat faster.
“Have a seat,” Dr. Brown said. “I’ll come to the point. We found an anomaly on your MRI.”
My shoulders slumped. “What kind of anomaly? Am I going to die?”
“First of all, it’s not life-threatening at this point. At least, not as far as we can tell.”
I stared at the stranger in the lab coat. “What do you mean? What’s wrong with me?”
Dr. Brown stabbed a finger at the MRI scan on his desk. “See this mass here next to your pineal gland? It’s vestigial.”
“I’m going to be a vegetable?” I squeaked.
“Vestigial. It’s the remnants of your twin, Ms. Drex.”
My mouth fell open. “My twin? How is that possible? I didn’t have a twin.”
“But you did,” the doctor said. “It just didn’t wholly survive gestation. You see, early in your mother’s pregnancy, your fetus absorbed the embryonic mass that was supposed to become your twin brother. He vanished, if you will. Except for this small mass of tissue here.”
“How do you know the twin was a male?” Grayson asked.
The doctor looked up from the scan. “Well, a vestigial twin can be completely formed, or it can be a random clump of cells or body parts. An arm, teeth, that kind of thing. Given the shape and density of the mass, the vestigial twin in Ms. Drex’s brain appears to be made entirely of ... ahem ... gonadal tissue.”
“What!” I shot a glance at Grayson. He was pursing his lips. Whether it was from concern over my health or he was trying not to laugh, I couldn’t tell. My head was too busy swimming against a tsunami of unexpected, unwanted thoughts ....
“What’s the prognosis?” I heard Grayson ask.
His voice sounded dull, as if he were underwater. Too stunned to react, I sat still and passive as the two men spoke to each other about me as if I weren’t there.
“The mass is at the center of her brain,” Dr. Brown said. “It would be extremely difficult to remove surgically. But as long as she’s not displaying adverse symptoms and the mass doesn’t enlarge, I believe the best course of action is to leave it as it is and monitor it every few months.”
“Keep an eye on it. Make sure it doesn’t sprout limbs.” Grayson said, his voice echoing in my clogged ears.
Dr. Brown’s eyes widened. “Well, in a manner of speaking, yes.”
“I’d like to take the scans with me,” Grayson said.
“These are part of Ms. Drex’s confidential medical files.”
Grayson stood up. “She paid for them, didn’t she?”
Dr. Brown shrunk back in his chair. “Well, technically, no. Not until she settles her bill.”
“How much is it?” Grayson asked.
“I ... I don’t know. I don’t handle such things.”
“Of course not. A doctor never sullies himself by talking about money.” Grayson turned to me. “Drex, wait here. I’ll be right back.”
“Where’s he going?” Dr. Brown asked as Grayson disappeared out the door.
“I have no idea. Am I going to be all right, doctor?”
“Ms. Drex, I’m a doctor, not God. Only he knows for sure.”
A hot flare of indignation thawed my frozen state. “Typical,” I muttered to myself. “Of course God has to be a man.”
“What?” Dr. Brown asked.
“Nothing. Doctor, what will happen if this thing ... this twin ... gets bigger?”
“If it begins to exert pressure on your brain, any manner of symptoms could occur.”
“Like hallucinations?”
“Well, yes. I suppose. Why? Have you had any?”
“I ... uh ....”
Grayson burst back into the office. He shoved a receipt in front of Dr. Brown’s face. “Bill’s paid in full.” He grabbed the MRI and my file from the doctor’s desk and turned to face me. I was speechless.
“Ready to go, dear fiancé?” he asked.
I bolted to my feet like a conspirator in a prison break. “Absolutely.”
“She should be under the care of a physician,” Dr. Brown said.
“She will be,” Grayson replied. “I’m a doctor.”
Dr. Brown’s expression was as stunned as mine.
“I’ll be sending for the rest of her records,” Grayson said. “In the meantime, thank you, Doctor, and have a good day.”
Grayson locked his arm around mine and led me out the door. I wanted to press him for details about paying my bill, but was distracted by an orderly pushing a patient on a gurney. Her head was wrapped like a mummy.
“I don’t want that to happen to me,” I whimpered.
“What?”
“The patient who just went by. She just had brain surgery or something.”
“Don’t worry,” Grayson said. “I don’t think you’ll need it. I think I know what’s going on here.”
I looked up into his eyes. “What? It’s not that coup contraband thing, is it?”
He smiled sourly. “You really should pay more attention, Drex. No. It’s not that.”
“What, then?”
“I’ll explain on the ride home.”
I winced. “Will you have to erase my memory afterward?”
Grayson kept his eyes ahead. “We’ll see. But at this rate, I don’t think it’ll be necessary. You don’t seem capable of holding a straight thought in your head.”
Chapter Forty-Two
“THANK GOD I DIDN’T take Earl with me,” I said, sucking in a lungful of fresh air as we headed toward the Mustang in the hospital parking lot. “He already thinks I’m half guy. Now I’ve got the gonad to prove it.”
Grayson shot me a look. “Having a gonad doesn’t make you half a guy, Drex.”
“It doesn’t?”
“No. It makes you a hermaphrodite.”
I scowled. “If you’re trying to cheer me up, you should work on your bedside manner, Dr. Grayson. What kind of doctor are you, anyway? Or was that just another lie?”
Grayson looked offended. “What do you mean another lie?”
“Are you a brain surgeon, or what?”
“I’m a certified holistic practitioner.”
“Holistic medicine? Isn’t that curing people with rocks and crystals and psychic crapola?”
“Don’t forget needles and potions and poultices,” Grayson said sourly.
“Oh, great.” I fumbled for the keys.
“I think I should drive, Drex. You’re in no shape to be behind the wheel. In your state, you might mistake a red light for a black hole.”
After just finding out I had my twin’s gonad kicking me in the pineal, I didn’t bother to argue his point. I handed Grayson the keys. He opened the passenger door for me, waited until I was buckled in, and handed me my medical scans.
As he closed the door and walked around to the driver’s seat, an odd numbness overtook me. I felt out of my element—as if I’d fallen down a hole and landed in someone else’s life ... in someone else’s reality.
This can’t be happening. A man is actually treating me with concern and respect ....
Grayson scooted into the driver’s seat. I turned to face him. “Grayson, I don’t know how to thank you. I’ll pay you back—”
“Forget it.” He closed the driver’s door and reached for the ignition. “That was a lot for you to take in. We should do an energy clearing on you when we get back to your place.”
I crinkled my nose. “Energy clearing? Couldn’t I just get a chocolate milkshake instead? Now that I’m gonna die, who cares about my thighs?”
Grayson shook his head. “You’re not dying, Drex. Look, I know you don’t believe it, but alternative healing modalities have been around for thousands of years. Why would people keep using them if they didn’t work?”
I shot him a look. “Because they didn’t have real medicine back then?”
“Oh. So sawing open your skull, digging out parts of it and hoping for the best is real medicine?”
I shrunk back in my seat. This wasn’t happening. The scans had to be wrong. My nose grew hot. I fought back tears. I glanced over at Grayson. “You said you think you know what’s wrong with me. So, what is it?”
“It’s just a theory. I need to run some tests on you first.” He reached to put the key in the ignition.
“Tests? What, are you going to do? Read my aura? Fix a hole in my psychic energy field?”
“No.” He cranked the engine.
“Come on,” I said. “Have you ever seen any of that holistic crap work?”
Grayson put his hand on the gear shaft, then stopped. “Yes. I absolutely have. I don’t know why you’re so skeptical, Drex. There’ve been at least a hundred scientifically run clinical trials demonstrating the effectiveness of all sorts of things that, according to Western medicine, shouldn’t work.”
I sniffed back a tear. “Like what?”
“Well, take the placebo effect, for one. In tons of pharmaceutical trials, people given a sugar pill got results as good as those taking the actual medicine. Stuff like that drives doctors nuts. But it kind of proves the whole tenet behind the holistic approach.”
“What? That everything’s a crapshoot?”
Grayson sighed and shook his head. “No. Just the opposite. Everything’s a placebo, Drex. If you believe whatever it is you’re doing will heal you, it will. Holistic medicine taps into our inner capacity to heal ourselves.”
“So you think I can get rid of this twin thing by wishing it away?”
Grayson shrugged. “Maybe. But then again, why would you want to? You’re unique, Drex. And I think that’s why you’ve been seeing things.”
I leaned over, closer to him. “Why?”
“You heard the doctor. The vestigial twin. The impact of the bullet must’ve dislodged it. Shaken it loose somehow. Now it’s pushing up against your pineal gland.”
“So? What’s that got to do with seeing things?”
Grayson studied me for a moment, his green eyes locked on mine. “Some ancient cultures called the pineal the ‘third eye.’”
“You mean, like a cyclops?”
“No. The third eye is the spiritual eye. The seat of enlightenment. It’s the gateway to other worlds ... other dimensions, if you will.”
“Bull crap, Grayson! We’ve all got pineal glands. If that were true, we’d all be seeing stuff.”
Grayson shrugged. “Maybe we do—but mostly when we’re kids, before our pineal glands calcify over.”
I shot him a look. “What are you talking about?”
“Remember how you were when you were a kid? Carefree. Joyful. Full of imagination and wonder? Anything seemed possible—even creating your own special world.”
I frowned. “Sort of, I guess.”
“That’s what it’s like to have a fully-functioning pineal gland.” He shifted into reverse and pulled out of the parking space.
I chewed my lip. “So what happens? Why does it quit working?”
Grayson sighed. “Lots of reasons. Adulthood, mainly. Changes in our hormones and diet cause it to calcify. Most people lose function by the time they’re seven or eight. Getting it back is what the life work of most mystics and shamans is all about. Some say it’s the true goal of yogis, and why yoga was developed in the first place.”
I studied the windshield as we pulled into traffic. “I thought yoga was an exercise.”
“Here in the States, maybe. Power yoga. Swing yoga. They’ve lost the whole point.”
“If it’s not to fight flab, what is the point of yoga?”
“To awaken the kundalini energy and experience cosmic consciousness and union with the divine. To reconnect with the life force that brings bliss.”
I sneered. “Well, I hate to break it to you, but my pineal gland must still be calcified. I’m not feeling anything even close to bliss.”
Grayson laughed. “Drex, you’re either the luckiest person on Earth or the unluckiest. I guess we’ll find out soon enough. Mind if we stop at that medical supply place over there?”
“Why?”
“I need some Ten20 conductive paste. I’d like to give you an electroencephalogram.”
My eyebrows raised an inch. “Electric shock treatment? No way!”
“No,” Grayson said. “An electroencephalogram. To measure your brain waves.”
My nose crinkled. “Will it hurt?”
“Not physically, no.”
I bit my lip and weighed my options. It didn’t take long, given I had exactly zero. I owed Grayson big time for paying my hospital bill.
“If I let you do this, you promise you won’t tell Earl a word about it?”
Grayson raised his hand in a Boy Scout pledge. “As your physician, it’s my sworn pledge to maintain your confidentiality. Your medical records are on a need-to-know basis.”
I grimaced. “That’s what scares me about you, Grayson. Who do you think needs to know?”
WHILE GRAYSON WAS IN the medical supply store, I had just enough time to increase my paranoia to psychosis level.
Why has this strange guy paid my hospital bill? What’s in it for him? Am I his human Guinea pig now?
Grayson returned to the car carrying a paper bag. “Have electrode paste, will travel,” he quipped.
“So what am I? Some new lab rat for you to experiment on?”
He smiled and climbed in. “I have to admit, your case is most intri
guing.”
“What if I don’t want to take your electro-polygraph thing?”
“Electroencephalogram.” He handed me the paper bag. “Come on. Like I said, it won’t hurt. I do it to myself all the time.”
“Wait. Is that why your head’s shaved, and you have those tentacle marks all over your skull?”
“Yep.” Grayson turned to me and smiled. “Very nice deduction, by the way, future P.I.”
Grayson glanced at a point above my eyes. “And, seeing as how your head is already shaved, now’s the perfect opportunity to get an initial electroencephalogram of your alpha brain waves. We’ll need a baseline for comparison. You see, with your pineal gland reactivation you—”
“Sorry, Grayson,” I said, cutting him off. “I’m not so sure about this. Things with you keep getting weirder and weirder. Enough with this baloney!”
Grayson looked taken aback. “It’s not baloney, Drex. You have a unique opportunity here. I don’t want to see you waste it.”
“An opportunity?” I grumbled. “For what? Seeing things? Going crazy?”
“No,” Grayson said calmly. “For seeing things and not going crazy.”
Chapter Forty-Three
THE MUSTANG FLEW PAST the pinewoods and wide-open pasturelands between Gainesville and Waldo. An early autumn frost had turned the wiry grasses endless shades of gray. They echoed my mood precisely.
“So how’s this electro whatever-agram going to keep me from going crazy?” I asked Grayson as he swerved to miss an already flattened armadillo.
“It’s not. It’s simply a measuring tool. An EEG displays your alpha brainwave activity. The more alpha waves you produce, the more relaxed your nervous system is.”
“So what’s the point? Will this thing tell if I’m having hallucinations?”
“No.”
“Will it help me to not have them anymore?”
“Highly doubtful.”
“Then what’s in it for me?”
“Quite a lot.” Grayson glanced over at me. “I’m offering you a chance to learn to control your body’s subconscious reactions with your conscious mind. Think about it, Drex. Whether you’re having hallucinations or what you saw was real, if you can train yourself to override your innate fight-or-flight response, you can remain calm in any situation. That’s a pretty good skill for a P.I. to have.”
Freaky Florida Mystery Adventures Box Set Page 16
