1
Janice awoke in a room
totally unfamiliar to her. No jetty, just
plain white walls. She winced with pain
as the initial shock of returning consciousness slapped her in the head. She closed her eyes again, and gratefully
passed into oblivion.
And she dreamed.
Dreams of monsters. Dreams of blue flashing lights and police
officers standing on stumps with their hands on their crotch. Dreams of floating high above the sand dunes
of a storm ridden beach. Dreams of her
beloved dog Granite. Dreams of tornados,
and pot filled rooms with black lights and lava lamps. And dreams of her father.
She awoke in a sweat.
"It's okay, little
missy," came the voice of someone all too familiar.
"Daddy?"
"Afraid so,
sweetheart. Seems like you just can't
get rid of me, don't it?" Thomas said with a hint of sadness.
Janice strained to focus on
her surroundings, and slowly, ever so slowly, everything began to clear in her
mind.
"Daddy. You're alright?" she asked weakly.
"Better than I've been
in a long, long, time sweet pea. Thanks
to you, that is," he said tenderly.
"I love you,
Daddy," she whispered.
"I love you too,
baby," Thomas answered softly, as he wiped the tears from his eyes.
Janice rolled her head to
the other side of her bed, feeling the presence of another.
"Do I know you?"
she asked.
"Sort of, I
guess," answered Mike Nelson.
"We met at a beach party."
"I'm sorry, but I'm
afraid I don't remember," Janice replied.
"Good for you,"
said Nelson. "It really wasn't
that great of a party, and I only crashed it at the end."
"Remember me?"
asked Jonathan, the upper part of his head wrapped in surgical gauze.
"Jesus," exclaimed
Janice. "I feel like I'm in the Land
of Oz or something. Of course I
remember you. You were the Tin Man
weren't you?"
"What…?" asked
Jonathan, looking to the others in the room, bewildered.
"It's okay,
Jonathan. I don't know what the hell
has happened, or how long it's been.
But thanks for saving my life, big brother."
"No," Jonathan
said solemnly. "Thanks for saving
mine. Enough of that for now, you just
rest up, we'll all talk later."
"Fuck that!"
exclaimed Janice, trying to sit up.
"What about Eddie?"
"Don't worry about
him," said Mike, as he leaned over her bed and patted her on the
shoulder. "You took real good care of that problem. If you'll excuse
me saying so, he's probably shark shit about now."
Janice turned back towards
her family.
"Is that really
true?" she asked as a nurse entered the room with a small stainless steel
tray.
"Positively," said
Mike.
"Absolutely,"
added Jonathan.
"No doubt in my
mind," said her father.
"She needs to rest
now. Doctor's orders," said the
nurse with the silver tray.
"That's good. Really good."
Janice felt a slight sting
as the needle punctured her arm, and felt her self beginning to slip back into
unconsciousness.
"I always thought that
Eddie would make good shark shit!" giggled Janice, as she went back to
Dreamland.