CHAPTER SEVEN

Philip opened his eyes and saw everything. It wasn’t the same as before though, as if he was in a dream. He moved his hands in front of his face. They drifted through the air, faster than what he was seeing. He could not explain it right away but what he was experiencing was a delay of vision to his brain. He realized this when he felt his eyes. As his fingers got so close they blurred out of focus, he felt the all too familiar scarred over skin covering his eyelids. He was hallucinating. None of this could be real.

Just then, a nurse walked in, and he turned toward her. She jumped almost three feet in the air at his reaction. Then she waved in front of his face. Philip followed her hand. Back and forth, she swayed her arm, until finally asking, “How are you doing that?”

“I can see you, nurse,” he leaned in to get a better look at her hospital ID, “Espinosa.”

“This is amazing! But I think I should-”

“Get the doctor.”

After running extensive tests, all producing inconclusive results, Philip was discharged from the hospital. Before he left, Dr. Randolph got a chance to talk to him without the company of Dr. Fitzsimons. He sat down on the bed as Philip was finishing up changing into his street clothes. "Listen...Philip," he started, "There is no medical reason for why you have gotten your eye sight back. In fact, the amount of scar tissue on your eyes would lead any doctor to believe that your vision coming back would be...well...impossible. You are a very lucky man."

"Luck has nothing to do with it."

"Realistically, it would be like your eyelids were permanently shut. And yet, well...-"

"Look, Doc, I know you're lookin' out for me and everything, and for that I thank you, but some things you just can't explain."

"That's what I'm trying to say. Just because you got your eyesight back doesn't mean you're obligated to go back to Afghanistan. I don't know what you've gone through-"

"Exactly! You have no idea what I've been through, and that is why you can't pretend to know what's right for me. I have to do this Doc, so just back off."

"Fair enough. But can I just say one more thing?"

"Make it quick."

Dr. Randolph thought about his next words very carefully, "Fitzsimons he's not who he seems to be. He's a military scientist, and from what I’ve gathered well… he’s a user. Don't trust him, Philip-"

"That's enough. I gotta go. Thanks for everything, Doc. But your part in this tale is over."

"Don't do this, Philip!"

But Philip had already left the room.

Philip walked out of the hospital, slipped on a pair of sunglasses, and took a breath of fresh air. There, waiting for him in his father's '73 Cadillac, was his ex-wife, Sarah. He got into the car, closed the door, and looked over at her with an infectious smile. She could not help but smile back. But that was not enough for Philip. He leaned over, grabbed her by the back of the neck, and pulled her in for a kiss. He was radiant. A total change in personality.

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"I've been such a fool," he said to her.

Sarah put the car into drive and attempted to withhold her tears. Tears of joy. She was so overwhelmed with emotion. Finally, she had found the man she married, the man that she fell in love with at the Millennium Carnival. They drove the rest of the way home in silence. Sarah silently trying to cope with all her erupting emotions, and Philip enjoying the sights he had missed so much.

They pulled into the driveway of his parents' house. Philip greeted both his mother and father with affectionate embraces, stunning them. This did not seem like the son they knew. He sat the three of them down in the living room and addressed them with a speech he had been preparing since the hospital.

"You all have been so patient with me and have done so well by me. And for that I thank you. You stood by me when I was at my weakest, and I intend to repay you now that I am better. I know what you are thinking and, although it doesn’t look like it, I really am better. My vision has returned completely. It is hard to explain, which leads me to my next point. There is something I must do, as another repayment, for this amazing gift."

"What is it, Philip?" asked his mother.

"I must go back to Afghanistan. For what, I cannot say, but you have to trust me. Once I complete my mission, I will return," Philip paused and knelt down before Sarah, "And when I do, I promise, the rest of my life will be devoted to you. For I am eternally yours."

Sarah was dumbfounded by all of this. So many thoughts and questions rattled her brain, and she was still fighting to hold back the surge of emotion quarreling within her. In a sweet release she nodded her head in agreement and kissed him again, while rogue tears streamed down her cheeks. She could not do this enough. Partly because of their renewed vows, and also due to the lurking imminence of Philip's departure. Mr. and Mrs. Dresden held each others' hands and admired their son's marital reunion.

Just then the doorbell rang. Philip ignored the bell and whispered softly into Sarah's ear, "One day I will tell you everything. I promise."

Mr. Dresden answered the door. Upon opening it, the family found Dr. Fitzsimons, the Military Scientist, standing in his full military dress uniform. Before Philip rose from his knelt down position, Sarah took off his sunglasses and said, "I'll be waiting for you," as she kissed his scar-covered eyes. Philip felt her lips on his scars, and they felt like instant relief. The touch of her soft, warm, and wet lips padding his vision around them, like ripples in a pond. It was surreal. With four words Dr. Fitzsimons concluded Philip's joyous reunion.

"It's time to go."

Philip walked out of the house and got into the Humvee.

"Wait!" he jumped.

"What?" asked Fitzsimons.

"My sunglasses."

"It's okay, these are for you," Fitzsimons pulled a pair of military issued aviator sunglasses out of the glove compartment and handed them to Philip. He examined the specs and then put them on.

Fitzsimons smiled, but underneath, his curiosity was clawing at him. How could this freak-show see after all the trauma to his face? The mad doctor wanted to lock him inside a laboratory and experiment on him until he got to the bottom of the mystery. Instead, he put on a phony face, and drove him to the local Air Force base. They fast-tracked it to a hangar where a C-5 Galaxy cargo-aircraft was being prepped for take-off. "All our equipment's waiting on board, and there is a strike team awaiting our command at Kabul. Congratulations Dresden..."

"For what?"

"Along with your re-activation into the army you have been promoted. Effective immediately, you are now, Colonel Dresden."

They walked up the wide ramp leading into the back of the cargo plane. Philip buckled in as Fitzsimons went to tell the pilot that all personnel were on board. After a couple of minutes, they were ready for takeoff.

The plane cleared the runway with a smooth climb in altitude. In no time, they were well on their way to the other side of the world. Philip, now embarking upon the journey back to where this all started. Half of him was frightened over what was to come. The other half was excited to get to the bottom of all these strange events riddling his life of late.