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The image on the
monitor screen melted into a hyaline blur and Shannon removed her
spectacles to dab at her tear filled eyes with the white linen
handkerchief. The doctor glanced at her with an expression torn
between compassion and mild amusement. In these days of retinal
engineering, her continuing use of glasses often drew curious glances.
Tom used to say that
they made her look intelligent and she would always laugh and assure
him that, if this was the case, then she would have them surgically
attached. She switched her gaze from the image of her husband on the
screen to his thin figure on the bed. He was dressed in his beloved
blue Bermuda shorts and his favourite T-shirt, the one that said 'LIFE
AFTER 100 IS JUST GREED' in big, red letters.
That was the
hospital's idea. Subject him to as many familiar situations as
possible, like dressing him in his own clothes, playing his favourite
music and talking to him as if everything was fine. It frustrated
Shannon when she thought of all the medical advances made during her
lifetime, that when it came to a coma victim, the profession was still
bound by these archaically optimistic rituals.
Something that
resembled a poultice lay over Tom's forehead and a rainbow ribbon
cable connected it to a device beneath the monitor that reminded her
of one of those old microwave ovens that were all the rage before they
started spontaneously exploding all over the place.
This technology was
what medicine had been able to do for them. Shannon was now able to
view exactly what was going on in her husband's head, his thoughts
displayed graphically on the monitor for all to see, the ultimate home
movie.
"If you give us your
Comms Code, we can have this relayed to your access node at home."
suggested the doctor. Shannon could remember when they were called
telephone numbers and televisions.
"No." she said firmly.
That was the last thing she wanted. To have her husband's subconscious
activity, the only type of activity left to him, turned into just
another TV channel for the kids, The All New Adventures of Dad,
was not an option. She needed to continue visiting him here, not to
have him conveniently packaged inside the television.
The doctor nodded and
smiled kindly.
"I'll leave you
alone." he said and left the room.
"I'm not alone. My
husband is here." whispered Shannon through gritted teeth. She pulled
the integral, Regena-Wood seat out from the side of the bed and
replaced her glasses in order to see the screen. Tom
was shaving. She
could tell that because he was looking at his memory of their bathroom
mirror and it reflected his features with a chilling clarity.
She shivered at the
sight of his open eyes. Because the screen displayed what Tom saw in
his mind, its viewers saw, as he would, only the view through his
subconscious eyes, so a reflection was the only opportunity to
actually see his face. Shannon was glad of that; she couldn't face
seeing his old, overly-animated features too often while he lay,
motionless in the bed.
It had been two years
since she'd seen those blue eyes open. Two years since the plane had
gone down with both of them and the twins holding on to each other for
dear life, an island of hope in a sea of screaming passengers as the
pilot fought to bring them down safely. She felt her heart quicken at
the recollection. So much for the promised one hundred percent
reliability of these new single engined passenger jets. It was a
miracle so many had survived. Eight dead, five injured, one seriously.
The statistics were burned into her memory. The one was Tom and now,
for the millionth time, she again fought back the tears of their
separation.
"Oh well, at least the
twins were okay, eh?" she said brightly, remembering that she hadn't
spoken to her husband since her arrival. He was now getting dressed
and looked as though he was going on a date. She wondered who the
lucky lady was with a wry smile.
"Took them for their
cancer jabs today." she chuckled. "Archie was screaming the place down
but Reggie hardly batted an eyelid."
She was still amazed
at the reality and continuity of her husband's thought. Before Tom's
connection, she had gone to see the system tested on some sleeping
subjects. Their dreams had been depicted as a jumble of mostly
nonsensical images but Tom's monitor showed him living what looked to
all intense purposes like a normal life.
There were
differences, though. He didn't work and he didn't ever seem to sleep.
Sometimes, the chaotic mnemonic of the crash that her memory retained
would keep her awake at night and she would drive to the Regional
Health Facility to see him. The monitor would show him engaged in a
game of golf or changing the batteries in the car or busy with one of
the other activities that had taken up so much of his time in his past
life. Shannon immediately restructured the thought. His life wasn’t
past, just interrupted.
Now he was driving his
car somewhere. She didn't recognise the streets but the traffic lights
were always green and he seemed to be travelling at about two hundred
miles an hour.
He pulled up outside a
white Mediterranean style, single story building with huge colourful
arrays of flowers under every window and got out of the car. The only
other person on the pavement was a woman but Shannon couldn't make out
her features until he sauntered closer. She was a stranger but was
smiling warmly at Tom and he kissed her on the mouth before leading
her by the hand into the building.
Shannon frowned. Who
was this? Someone he used to know from work? Or maybe just someone he
used to know? They took a seat at one of the smaller, candlelit tables
and, instantly, a waiter appeared.
"Wow! Some service."
said Shannon. "How come you're not wining and dining me, Tommy-baby?"
she asked of her unconscious husband. People sat at the other tables
but they were all faceless. All except for the mystery woman.
Despite a ridiculous,
niggling jealousy, she watched them go through the dinner date ritual,
making each other laugh and sometimes even holding hands, with a
morbid fascination.
"This IS only your
imagination, right?" she asked. "This isn't memory, is it?"
No answer came.
They left the
restaurant and took Tom's car to what Shannon guessed was her
flat. She watched them enter through the front door, stand awkwardly
in each other's company for a moment and then fall to the floor
together in a torrent of passion.
Shannon's frown became
a grimace of shock and she felt her face redden at the unfolding
scene.
"You never did it like
that with me!" she shouted and punched Tom's left leg. They had moved
into the bedroom.
"C'mon now Shannon,
keep calm. It's only his imagination, just like when you dream about
McCauley Culkin." she told herself and then remembered that she was
sitting in a glass room. Not wishing the whole hospital, sorry,
Regional Health Facility, to be a witness to her husband's virtual
adultery, she lunged at the monitor and punched the power button.
"I'll speak to you
tomorrow." she informed Tom and left the room wearing a scowl that
cleared a subtle path for her through the busy corridors.
For the next three
weeks, she watched her husband fall in love with this unknown woman.
Not once did Shannon appear in his subconscious, for they always
seemed to be too busy, driving or golfing together. Everything he did
now was with her. They were inseparable.
She had never really
done anything with him apart from eat out or take the kids places. She
got car sick and she couldn't play golf. She knew that their marriage
hadn't exactly been perfect before he was
taken away but they
had tried hard to make it work. In fact, that's why they had been on
that plane, on their way to the new Disney park in Croatia. A family
holiday to bring them all closer together that had annexed her husband
within himself.
A conflict of emotions
tore at her inner strength. She loved her husband, perhaps more than
he knew, but she also hated him for forgetting her in his new world of
which she could only be a helpless spectator.
Then, one Thursday,
she arrived expecting to see the lovely couple standing at the altar
but instead, she found Tom's brain shuffling around his memory of
their house. He went from the lounge to the kitchen to the bathroom,
where he gazed at himself in the mirror. Shannon was shocked. He
looked terrible, not physically but in a lonely, troubled way. Her
empathy for him returned and she squeezed his limp hand but his
expression conveyed such appalling sadness that she could almost feel
the pain through his cool, soft skin.
All through the day
she stayed with him, talking in a cheery, optimistic bawl that was
designed to cheer him up, but every time he shuffled back to the
mirror, the sadness was still there. The woman hadn't appeared and
Shannon half wished that she would, just for her beloved husband's
sake.
She left him at six
that evening but was halted in her departure by an excited nurse who
stopped her in the corridor.
"Oh, Mrs Turner, have
you heard the news? The girl in room twenty came out of her sleep this
morning! It just goes to show that there's always hope! She was asleep
for four and a half years. Isn't it wonderful?"
Shannon nodded and
carried on her way. It was, indeed, wonderful and she decided to visit
the girl just to pass on her congratulations. When she rounded the
corner and peered through the glass of room twenty, however, she
stopped. On the bed a woman was sitting up, smiling and chatting to
the mass of people around her. She was thin and deathly white but
Shannon immediately recognised her.
It was her. The woman
from Tom's thoughts.
Her mind raced to an
absurd conclusion and she walked slowly to the doorway, only removing
her eyes from the woman to read the nameplate on the door, Caitlin
Brooks. This had to be coincidence though. The conclusion refused
to fade and an idea struck her that made her laugh out loud. Relatives
and friends of the woman turned at the noise to see Shannon’s swift
retreat from the open door. She
repeated the name
over and over to herself as she strode back to her husband's room.
This was a really stupid idea but what had she to lose?
She fell to her knees
when she reached Tom's bed and grabbed his hand.
"Tom? Listen to me!
Listen very carefully! Caitlin is here! She's out here with me! You
can see her if you come out as well! All you have to do is open your
eyes. That's all Tom. Just open your eyes"
There was an imploring
urgency about her as she stared intently into her husband's closed
eyes. For a full ten minutes she stared not noticing the monitor
images fade to blackness.
Then, almost
imperceptibly, Tom's eyelids flickered. Once, twice and then they
opened. Shannon's love filled her eyes and again she removed her specs
to wipe and smiled at her husband.
Tom opened his mouth
to speak and whispered one word that told her they were going to be
alright.
"Shannon?" he said.
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