The rest of the weekend passed without further incidents, much to Jack’s relief. The only letdown was that due to her upcoming internship, Emily had been busily working so hard in preparation Jack had barely seen her. When Monday morning came, Emily had been forced to leave for her new internship early, though Jack still had to basically push her out of the apartment and reassure her he’d be fine.
Not willing to go back to sleep, Jack forced himself into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. With a hiss as the cold water made him wince reflexively, Jack got to his business and finished washing up for the day to come. After drying off and putting on clothes, he wandered into the kitchen to munch on the muffins for breakfast when his phone rang. He answered it and put the call on speakerphone.
“Jack? Good morning,” came the voice of Jack’s boss, Rosetta Catrine.
“Good morning ma’am,” Jack greeted. “Good to hear from you.”
“Yes, I do apologize for not calling sooner,” his boss apologized in her smooth voice. “I have been unfortunately occupied with police and reporters and insurance calls all weekend, as you might have expected. Terrible mess dear boy, quite terrible. Are you alright dear?”
“Yeah,” Jack muttered, taking a deep breath at the sudden memories. “Yeah, it was. And, I’m recovering well enough, I think. Have you heard from the hospital about Hank?”
“His surgery went through without any trouble, small blessings it would seem. He’s still unconscious from what I understand, but should wake up any day if things continue going well,” she said. “However, the same can’t be said about the restaurant I’m afraid.”
Jack winced. He hadn’t been looking forward to this call for that exact reason.
“The police have Catrine’s locked down as they investigate,” Rosetta explained calmly, though with a note of helplessness. “I don’t know how long they’ll be there, but we can’t open so long as they’re there. Nor can we begin cleanup and repair, since that might interfere with their investigation. No doubt we’ll have to throw out the ingredients, and lord knows what we’ll have to do to get rid of the blood. Insurance has been trying to squirm their way out, all polite like and all, but thankfully there doesn’t seem to be an easy loophole. Media’s doing a good job talking the incident up though, and the girls are doing good playing up the waterworks, so we have public sympathy on our side in case of any trouble.”
Jack couldn’t help but grin a wry smile. His boss, while mostly known for her calm, friendly, and downright motherly southern charm, he’d never met a more cunning person who knew exactly how to work someone over. She wasn’t blunt, but she always cut to the heart of the conversation faster than you could blink. Jack was sure that the restaurant’s insurance rep was writhing under her strong gaze and firm tone.
“So, I guess I’m not coming in today to work?” he couldn’t help but ask.
“No dear, I don’t think that would be wise,” Rosetta answered. “I’ve done all I can to ensure your name, and Hanks, weren’t given to the media. Hank likely will be found sooner or later due to his stay in the hospital, but so long as you remain away, I do believe you’ll be able to maintain your privacy. Regardless, as I said before, there isn’t much for you to do here in any case.”
“Figured,” Jack sighed. “So, am I out of a job?”
“Oh no darling,” Rosetta reassured him. “Once I’m done working over the rep, insurance will be more than happy to pay up for losses accrued during this terrible ordeal. That does include unpaid wages and the like as per everyone’s contract, for at least two weeks. More if the police do not leave soon. Consider this extra paid time off dear, though if things continue, I’ll have to have another chat with you about the future.”
“Yes ma’am,” Jack said. He heard her chuckle over the phone.
“Don’t worry you poor heart over anything here darling,” she reiterated. “I have things under control here. You just focus on healing up and getting better. And thank you for saving dear old Hank; I’m not sure what I would have done if I lost him. The girls and I are all praying for you.”
“Thank you ma’am,” Jack said, “and it was no trouble. I just did what I thought was right. Please thank the girls for me.”
“You got it dearie,” Rosetta said. “Talk to you later.”
Jack ended the call with a sigh. That was one less worry at least, having to work with his still healing injuries, that he had to think about. Still getting paid was nice to, though he hoped Ms. Catrine wouldn’t suffer too much trouble from the disruption in business. He still wasn’t quite sure how successful the diner was despite having worked there for over a year now So, with loafing around having been accomplished over the weekend under the care of his fiancé, Jack decided to give the eye doctor Tim had recommended a call. Flipping the business card around in his hands, the young man called the number and waited for an answer.
“Hello, this is the office of Doctor Glenis Jinkins, certified optomologist. For hours, press 1. For scheduling an appointment, press 2-”
“BEEP!”
“Please wait while we connect you. Enjoy, jazz music, while you wait.”
Jack rolled his eyes. Still, it didn’t take long for the call to click.
“Hello, this is Tammy at Eye Spy Optomology, how may I help you?” came the voice of a woman over the phone.
“Ah yes, hello,” Jack said. “I’m calling about scheduling a possible appointment to check my eye. I haven’t used your office before, do you take blue cross blue shield?”
“Unfortunately, that insurance provider does not include covering eye doctor visits,” Tammy said apologetically.
Jack sighed. He hadn’t known that.
“May I inquire to the nature of the visit?” Tammy asked unexpectantly. “The doctor owns his practice and is very flexible when it comes to payment.”
“I was involved in an, incident, last week and was hurt,” Jack said slowly. “My eye in particular. The doctor at the hospital recommended I see an eye doctor.”
“Oh, are you Mr. Jack Smith?” came the surprising question. “Sorry for being so forward, but the doctor told me that you might be calling. Let’s see, what did he write. . .” There came the sound of rustling through papers. “Ah, here it is. If you come in, the doctor would be happy to see you as a charity case.”
“Oh, is that, okay?” Jack blinked, not sure what to think.
“Don’t think you’re taking advantage of him dear,” Tammy reassured him. “The doctor is rather known for his generosity, and you certainly wouldn’t be the first in this kind of situation. We enjoy some generous tax breaks in return for these kinds of services.”
Jack rubbed the back of his head and thought about it. Considering his previous condition, he hadn’t ever been to an eye doctor, an optomologist, before and thus wasn’t familiar with any of this. Still, free was free after all. “Do you have time open for a visit?” he asked.
“We have an opening after lunch today at 2 pm if you can make it,” Tammy said after a pause. “And we have a cancelation on Friday we could slot you in if that doesn’t work.”
“I can make it for 2 today,” Jack commented, reflexively checking his calendar without much thought. “Do I need to bring in anything, paperwork-wise?”
“We’ll need some form of legal ID from you, and you’ll have to sign some paperwork here, but nothing else,” Tammy said. “Alright, I have you added in at 2 pm today. See you then.”
“See you,” Jack said before ending the call. He thrummed the table and looked over at the clock. It was only 9 am, plenty of time to waste before he needed to leave. Speaking of, where was the office again? A quick map search on his phone showed the Eye Spy Optomologist building was a twenty-minute walk from the apartment toward the mountains. It was ironically on one of the few streets where, due to traffic direction, getting there by car would be longer.
While there, Jack followed the link to the office’s website and gave it a quick read through. Small office, small staff, locally owned and operated, several city awards for community service? Seemed to be rather professional all in all at first impression. He also went ahead and locked up the doctor to see what would pop up.
“Doctor Glenis Jinkins,” Jack read aloud from a bio page from Maple’s local paper website. “69 years old, nice, optomologist for. . . 40 years wow. A fight with insurance companies over quality service? Interesting. Started his own practice, charity events, hm. A piece of city history, isn’t he?”
The last question he said out of habit, for a moment expecting an observation from Emily before chiding himself that she wasn’t there. Was that a sign of a good relationship?
Jack looked at the clock, 9:10 am. Clicking his tongue, Jack pushed himself out of the kitchen chair and lumbered over to the TV. With the to-do list empty, maybe he could finally knock out a couple of levels in Outer Worlds. He didn’t dare touch the Switch he shared with Emily; that was exclusively for co-op and she would know if he played without her.
***
At 1:20, Jack was out the door and locking behind him to head out. No one joined him on the elevator down to the ground level, and the young man walked past the security door out onto the street. He didn’t see Mr. Virgil, but that wasn’t anything unusual. The older man tended to do his own thing during the midday, to the point that no one ever quite knew where he went.
With Farmview being toward the edge of the city, the hustle and bustle of city life was a little way away. It wasn’t anything substantial, but it was the little things that you tended to notice living there: the gas station was just slightly far enough way to be time commitment, the grocery store was not quite close enough to walk home from, the nearest school was just one street beyond what a parent might feel comfortable allowing their child to walk home from, and so on. It was such a curious psychological thing you wouldn’t even realize until you moved into the apartment complex. In fact, these little inconveniences were the reason new residents often didn’t stay longer than the year lease, despite the relatively cheaper price apartments.
It was perfect for those who liked walking, so for Jack this had never been an issue. Emily’s college and new workplace required a car to reach in both cases, so she didn’t usually have an issue either as she’d stop by the gas station or store for food before coming home.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
The walk today wasn’t even through light rain, something Jack was thankful for. It meant he could more easily see the misty mountains in the distance, the spine of the Appalachia mountains with their beautiful tree colors through the entire year. The dark, shadowy silhouettes stood proud around the city of Maple, like guardians protecting the city from outside threats. One of Jack’s favorite things to do with Emily was to hike through the many trails one could find just outside the city, exploring forests, rivers, waterfalls, and exposed rock. Even the scent of forest pine was enjoyable, though often drowned by the rain.
Speaking of, Jack had to jump out of the way as a red car went by, kicking up a water puddle towards the young man he barely avoided. The young man gave the offending puddle a frown and swiftly moved away. Puddles were the main source of trouble in Maples for pedestrians given all the rain, and occasionally for cars if they hit a hidden hole in the road. Apparently, asphalt didn’t enjoy being soaked near year-round and protested against the weather by crumbling. If Jack recalled correctly, the upcoming mayoral election had a focus around road maintenance as one of the key issues, though he hadn’t paid it much attention unlike Emily. Apparently, the new candidate wanted to start repaving the road with a new kind of ‘thirsty’ concrete or something, while the current and longtime mayor wanted to boost the number maintenance jobs or something. Maybe Emily would have more stories about the race now that he was interning at the attorney general’s office.
It didn’t take him too much longer to reach the Eye Spy Optomology office, which was situated in a repurposed older home made in that classic southern style with a surrounding porch and rocking chairs. Bouncing up the stairs, Jack opened the door and walked inside. He found himself in the foyer, with a receptionist space further up on the left and what he guessed had been the drawing room turned waiting area. A woman was sitting behind the desk typing away on a computer while speaking to someone one the phone. She caught his eye and gave him the ‘one moment’ hand gesture, to which Jack nodded.
“Yes, yes, we’ll see you next week, buh bye,” said the woman as she hung up the phone. She turned her attention to the new arrival. “Sorry, I can help you now.”
Jack walked over and observed the lady. She appeared young, maybe a few years older than him, dressed what he assumed to be nurse scrubs and a coat, with long brown hair, a larger nose and freckles, and an intelligent gaze Jack was sure would make a scary glare.
“Hi, I’m Jack, I have a 2 o’clock appointment?” he asked.
“Right, hi,” the woman nodded and smiled, holding her hand for him to shake it, which Jack gladly did. “I’m Tammy, we talked this morning. Did you bring your ID? Yup, I’ll take that,” she said, taking Jack’s driver’s license before handing him a clipboard with a couple of papers. “Go ahead and read through this and sign at the bottom when you’re done. Top one is permission to view your medical records, then liability form, then charity case confirmation, and last permission to share medical results with your physician.”
Jack accepted the forms, took a seat, and got to work reading. A quick skim confirmed nothing out of the ordinary besides the charity form, and that form was written very straightforwardly. He signed each one, naming Emily his emergency contact, and returned the clipboard to Tammy, who handed back the ID.
“Wonderful,” she said, flipping through the papers to double check. “Ah, initial here hon. There, you’re good to go. If you have a wait in the waiting room over there, I’ll call you when the doc can see you.”
Jack nodded and took a seat in the waiting room, idly checking the local news. Now that it was Monday, it seemed the local paper had finally gotten around to reporting on the attack last week. Jack noted that neither he nor Hank were named, only listed as employee 1 and employee 2 when an identity was needed, and that piece was more speculation than fact. Apparently, the police hadn’t provided the paper a statement beyond the general ‘no comments on an active investigation’, and even the ‘anonymous source’ listed didn’t mention much beyond the attack and possible connections to other crimes. In short, it was a ‘to be continued’ kind of story.
“Mr. Smith,” he heard Tammy call out. “The doctor will see you now.”
Jack stood up, putting his phone away, and followed the nurse/receptionist through a central hall to one of the rooms running down its length. Inside, Jack saw a chair similar to one he’d seen in the Saw series, which made him grimace. Noticeably, however, the chair lacked mechanical parts and straps and appeared to exist solely to be seated on. Various instruments were around it, including a rather large and fancy binocular-looking device, something that looked like a futuristic binocular, a projector screen for reading, and a computer set up.
“He’ll be in momentarily,” Tammy said, moving out of the room. “Go ahead and take a seat.” She left then, and no sooner later as Jack sat did an older man enter the room.
For a 69-year-old man, Doctor Glenis Jinkins appeared good for his age. Nice cover of mostly grey hair, smile lines sunk deep in his face and forehead, kind eyes beneath a pair of thin glasses, and with a confident, straight posture, the older man was clearly living his best life.
“My my, aren’t you a sight,” the doctor noted with a wink. “Shall we see you much we can patch your eye?”
“Before we continue, will the eye jokes ever stop?” Jack couldn’t help but ask with a good-natured grimace.
“Eye don’t it,” the doctor chuckled, “however, I will do my best to hold back for your sake since you’re a new patient. Though to be frank, its an easy homonym to take advantage of.”
Jack shrugged. He could live with that, he suspected, especially if that was the only thing he would need to pay for this exam. Free health care was free health care, after all.
“Now, I think I can see why you came in today, and why my old friend Tim recommended I see you,” the doc said as he pulled a seat over and sat in front of Jack. “Can you remove the eyepatch for me. Yes, there we go. My my, you’ve suffered quite the injury haven’t you? Anything you can tell me how you got that scratch?”
“Um,” Jack hesitated, not quite sure how much he could, and should, tell the doctor.
“I’m under oath both personal and legally to be unable to share your information to others,” The doctor spoke up after noting the awkwardness in Jack’s expression. “Maybe not as claptrap as a psychologist mind you, but anything you tell me I can use to help diagnose your wound.”
Jack relented, and explained the attack to the older man. Doctor Jinkins listened carefully as the younger man retold the story he’d given to the cops.
“Hm, a bladed weapon in a dirty alley,” the doctor mused. “My my, not your typical Friday night party, but what do I know at my age. Now, let’s get a good look at your eye.” The older man rolled over, grabbing a pair of odd-looking glasses with scopes on them. Putting them on, the doctor beckoned for Jack to lean forward.
“Hm, seems to have healed better than those stitches would suggest,” the doc noted. “So, I assume you can see through your left eye?”
“I can, but my fiancé pushed me for this because I’ve seen some strange things since the bandage came off,” Jack confessed.
“Oh? Like what?”
“Some haziness around things, like a blurry outside. Oh, and I thought I saw a red stain in our bathroom sink,” Jack explained.
“Not a smudge or black spot? A red stain?” Doctor Jinkins leaned back and took his glasses off. “Interesting. The color suggests more a hallucination than a blind spot. Persistent monochrome ‘spots’ tend to be because a section of rods and cones in the back of the eye have an issue, and your brain receives incorrect visual stimuli. Hallucinations, on the other hand, are when our brains attempt to fill in the blanks that occur due to an issue in the nerves, usually related to a slowdown of activation.”
“In either case, it would be strange for you to have either issue since the damage appears to be, as they say, ‘skin-deep’,” the doc continued. “Though I can’t rule out that something entered your eye from the weapon and is floating around in there and causing shadows to mess with your vision. In order to check for that, I’m going to dilate your pupils to see their reaction.”
“What’s that mean, exactly?” Jack asked.
“I’m going to drip a single drop from this bottle and then this bottle,” the doc pointed as he explained, “onto each of your eyes. Normally, I would have done this before our tests, but as you don’t require glasses there wasn’t much point. The first will cause your pupils to widen similar to if you were in a dark room, and the second will paralyze your pupils so they remain open. The effect will last most of the day, so you’ll have to wear sunglasses for protection. Tammy will give you some rolled ones when you check out.”
“Uhh,” Jack frowned. “That, doesn’t sound pleasant. Might we skip that?” A thought occurred to him. “And hold on, that doesn’t sound like something to do to a recovering eyeball.”
“I’d like to think my 40 years of medical practice might serve to support my decision,” the older man said dryly. “As I said, there does not appear to be any damage to the muscles in your responsible for adjusting the size of your pupil. Believe me, the pain and visual confusion you’d have if that were the case would make itself known quite quickly. This is standard practice for all eye exams young man.”
“Does it hurt?” Jack asked tentatively.
“Goodness no! Stings like a bitch for several minutes though. Now, hold still.”
The doctor was right, the drops did sting, and the room soon became a lot brighter to Jack. Once he confirmed the pupils were fully dilated, Doctor Jinkins then went through several of the machines and tests with Jack, checking the visual acuity of his injured left eye with different magnifications, letter sizes at distance, and sensitivity to stimulus. Maybe it was the doctor’s easy attitude, but Jack felt like they had breezed through everything at a fast pace.
“Hm, curious,” Doctor Jinkins muttered as he looked down at the chart he’d made for Jack. “I’m rather surprised your eye is working as well as it is despite the damage it took. Visually, one wouldn’t be surprised to hear your vision was significantly impacted given the scars and color change.”
“Yeah, I was wondering about that,” Jack said. “Is that bad?”
“Hm?” the doctor looked up. “Oh, no I do not believe so. The grey tone you’ve gained alongside your normal brown color isn’t anything to worry about for now. It’s an odd visual effect to be sure, and one I have never seen before in truth, but I would hazard a guess that the scar tissue is merely reflecting the light differently. There’s a good chance once you’ve finished healing that will disappear. Should it continue to grey and grow cloudy, then that may suggest the development of cataracts. Just pay attention to it for now.”
“And that brings us to the last test,” Doctor Jinkins noted. “You mentioned color before. Keep your right eye closed and covered with this,” he handed Jack an eyepatch on a stick, “and tell me what colors you see.”
Jack obliged and covered his right eye. Was it just him, or was the world not only brighter, but the shadows darker?
“Red, Green, Blue, Yellow,” Jack recited as the doc flipped through several slides. “Purple, Brown, Black, White, Black-”
“Are you sure?” Doctor Jinkins suddenly interrupted.
Jack hesitated. Cautiously, he moved away the eyepatch and opened his right eye. He saw the screen was grey.
“Try again, different order,” the doc said.
“Yellow, Black, Blue, Green,” Jack recited again. “White, Grey, Black, Purple, Brown.”
“Hm,” the doc hummed. “Which of these is whiter, 1, or 2?”
“Uh, the same?” Jack asked.
“Which is these is blacker,” the doctor continued without pause, “1, or 2?”
“I think, 2?” Jack asked.
“It appears something within your left eye is interfering with your ability to distinguish colors on the monochrome scale,” Doctor Jinkins noted. “Quite fascinating. You didn’t appear to have any issues before having your eyes dilated?”
“I, don’t think so,” Jack muttered. “I noticed the difference between pearl white and lily white in our apartment. The walls in the kitchen and bathroom are slightly different.”
“But were you really seeing it, or was that your brain attempting to fill in the blanks with memory?” the doc wondered aloud. “Unfortunately, my limits on neural knowledge are reached once an issue arises beyond the occipital nerves. I didn’t see anything inside your left eye either, which eliminates the floating intrusion theory.”
“So, your judgement?” Jack asked.
“My prognosis is that it’s too early to tell still,” the doctor hummed and wrote down a note. “Whether your eye recovers or not may larger depend on your diet and not abusing it, or it may heal on its own, or it could get worse. It is unfortunately too early to tell, and your symptoms do not correspond to any condition I’ve heard of. Personally, I would recommend watching a black and white movie once your dilation has ended and see if you notice anything off with the shading. Keep a journal on hand to note down if and when you see strange things. Check in with Tammy about another appointment next week so I can check if anything has changed.”
“Won’t you be busy?” Jack couldn’t help but ask.
“I always leave a slot or two for charity cases,” Doctor Jinkins explained. “It’s no trouble. Now, I think that’s it for now Mr. Smith. You’re free to go.”
Jack thanked the doctor and walked back to the front desk, keeping his eyes mostly closed to avoid the glare from all the lights. Tammy handed him some rolled up sunglasses, which Jack graciously accepted. She put him in the system for the coming Monday, and Jack left the Eye Spy Optomology office. Even with the sunglasses on, Jack thought the world outside was still brighter than it should have been.
Grumbling to himself, Jack began the walk home. By the feeling in his scars, he felt that the rain may begin soon. Strangely enough, the feeling turned out to be correct, and light drizzle began to fall not but five minutes later. Releasing another curse, Jack sped up his pace to make it back to the apartment before the drizzle could turn harder.
He passed by an alley and did a doubletake, walking back several steps to peer in. He thought he’d seen a large shadow, but all there were in the alley were several feral cats, who hissed at him. Jack shook his head and kept walking, not noticing the dark clouds above parting just enough for the sun to stretch his shadow across the pavement. Oddly enough, the shadow was missing an eye.