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Alicin Wonderland Part 4
More Than Meets The Eye



1996—Day 1

Sydney’s House

Friday Morning



He tossed his keys on the hall table, not noting the noise they made or the pits they left in the wood. His hat and coat landed in a rumpled pile on the next piece of furniture he passed on the way to his bedroom. He thought of his long history of dealing with Raines incessant subterfuge and deceit. “God, I’m tired of this,” he said aloud, listening to the muffled popping of major joints as he stretched. The red light on the answering machine was not blinking. A small blessing, he thought.



He was able to fit four changes of casual clothes, including his favorite hand-knit sweater, in one side of a large suitcase. The other side held an assortment of underwear, socks and shoes, his Yale sweatshirt and a pair of gray sweatpants to lounge in and his well-worn Flemish-language anthology of poems and essays by nineteenth century women from around the world. His shaving kit was the last item in, so he closed the case and snapped the latches.



The suitcase stood by the front door while Sydney prepared a cup of chai and a luncheon plate of smoked salmon, fruit and cheese. He sat in front of a window that overlooked his beloved gardens as he ate.



His thoughts meandered until they reached Alicin. What color were her eyes? He couldn’t remember. Had he even noticed in the first place? And why did it matter? What he did remember were the dark circles around those eyes. He considered how light her body was as she had fainted against him and how fragile she felt in his arms as he had carried her across the room. He saw her blood, so much of it! And he recalled the scratchy feel of stubble as he smoothed his hand across her scalp. An ache of emotion overtook him. How could this young one, kept innocent by her seclusion at the Centre, have landed in such a briar patch? And why did it trouble him?



The sound of the clock as it struck noon brought him into the present. Sydney rinsed his cup, knife and plate under running water and placed them in the draining basket to dry. Collecting his keys and suitcase from the front hall, he stepped outside, locking the door behind him. He slid behind the wheel of his Towncar and resigned himself to the thirty-minute drive back to the Centre.



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1996—Day 1

Exam Room 2
Friday Morning



“Will someone please explain to me why there’s a blanket on this patient!” demanded Dr. Patrice when she returned from her phone calls. Naomi and Elinore looked up from where they were labeling the vials of blood just collected. Joanna hurried to the doctor’s side. She spoke as Dr. Patrice donned gown and gloves for herself, clearly not pleased with what she was seeing.



“You’ll find this as unbelievable as we did, Doct-“



“You’d better hope I do, Joanna!” The doctor’s snapped.



Joanna heaved a sigh and commenced her account of what had happened, while Naomi and Elinore gave moral support by trying to become a part of the furniture they were sitting on.



Joanna had deferred to Earl’s kindhearted response to Alicin’s condition, given the coolness of the air conditioned room. When she had placed the lens of a digital thermometer inside the young woman’s ear canal, the base unit chirped and registered a reading of 101.2. Joanna glanced at her watch, noting both time and temperature on Alicin’s chart. She paused as a thought formed in her mind. She searched the previous entries. There it was, in her own handwriting. But this just wasn’t possible. No antipyretic we use works that fast, she had thought. In truth, she couldn’t think of any that did. The veteran PA was all at sea as far as an explanation for her boss.



Joanna immediately repeated the temperature check with two additional digital units and a standard glass alcohol thermometer. There was no significant variance among the results. They all read within .1 degree of 100 degrees this time. The fever had peaked at 104.1 and, before the medication Joanna herself had administered had begun to work, Alicin’s body temperature had plummeted with no apparent ill effect. Joanna could scarcely believe the results. She tucked the light cotton blanket around the young woman to protect her from the draft falling from the air conditioning vent in the ceiling. Therein ended the tale. Joanna fell silent and studied the pattern in the linoleum. Naomi and Elinore looked less like furniture and more like two deer caught in headlights.



Dr. Patrice was studying the chart as Joanna gave her report, looking at the PA over her reading glasses from time to time. When the recitation was finished, she closed the chart and handed it back to Joanna without a word. Across the room, Alicin stirred and began to awaken. The irate doctor was the first to move to her patient’s side. No one else dared move for the next minute or two.



“Hi, sweetie,” she cooed, taking Alicin’s hand in her own. “Alicin? Sweetie? Can you hear me? Can you try to wake up for us now?” The doctor’s entire demeanor had changed. She lightly brushed Alicin’s cheek with the backs of her fingers and continued speaking to her in the soft, sweet tones of a mother comforting her child.



Alicin made faint kitten noises in response as she struggled to regain awareness. When she was able to open her eyes at last, she was greeted by tender smiles from the people who took their responsibility for her well being so seriously. As she tried to smile back, her stomach went into spasm, nearly folding her in half with dry heaves. She cried out in pain. The team rocketed into action without another thought to what had just transpired between Dr. Patrice and Joanna. Everything was returning to what passed for normal in the Centre Infirmary.



End of Part 4









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