‘Danny, is that you?’ squeaked Ben out loud. He felt strangely invigorated, and this new found vigour seemed to have reached his lungs. It was a part-time vigour however, one that got easily tired.
Ben could not move his head or arms at all. He was lying on his left side on an unusual material. It was not quite plastic, too warm. He was laid out prone in a bed looking through two long shiny metal bars with a blue mesh between them. In the distance he could hear a mostly regular bleeping noise and further away a whoosh, pump-like sound every few moments.
The light was subdued and the floor shiny. That is definitely Danny’s arm thought Ben. It certainly smells like Danny. There was a note of concentrated, ‘For Institutions Only,’ pine detergent and two slightly stronger notes of Danny’s characteristic hormonal odour. Ben might not say much but he knew his smells.
One of the nurses strolled across from the nurse’s station and was standing at the end of Ben’s bed looking at charts. She smelt of deodorant chemicals. She began sticking forms, each with a little plastic bag attached, to a clipboard at the end of his bed. The nurse then started to tinker with a, ‘Machine-on-a-stick,’ one of many that surrounded Danny and Ben. Ben felt a small whirl of fluid caress the underside of the skin on his chest and then a sudden irresistible drowsiness overtook him.
He overheard a voice say something about dosages and their reduction. Bleary eyed, he watched as another nurse emptied a mini-plastic box of urine into a larger box also attached to Danny’s bed-rail. The nurse made a note. A hint of the second nurse’s perfume wafted across Ben’s senses before he was away - far, far away, from the bed, from the nurses, even from the subdued lighting, but most especially, from the eternal, bleep, bleep, bleep.
Three weeks later:
Cynthia was the senior social worker responsible for Danny and Ben’s welfare. She had a student with her today - Trevor, who was sticking to her like proverbial glue. ‘Damn students,’ she thought to herself angrily as she marched past the nurse’s station. Her long blue denim dress swayed as it highlighted her greying hair. She got a few yards down the hospital corridor and then turned around and promptly headed back. Trevor followed a mere split pace later. Cynthia and Trevor stood by the nurse’s station. Trevor held his head slightly down turned. He was daydreaming again.
Considering the recent spate of hospital visits and her heavy case-load, the explosive tree at Danny’s house had not helped her nerves one tiny bit. But on the outside looking in, she was just a little more bristly than usual. As far as the world could tell, Cynthia had inexhaustible patience.
‘Can I help you?’ asked one of the hospital nurses after she had put the cream-coloured phone back into its cradle.
‘Yes we’re here to see Daniel Sola and Bendhu Dalit, I believe they have been transferred here from the High Dependency Unit.’
The ward manager had put Danny and Ben in the side-rooms attached to ward 2b. The nurse waved Cynthia and Trevor through to the first room. The boys had just had lunch.
‘You two did an amazing job of frying yourselves!’ blurted out Trevor tactlessly to the two boys with a huge grin. ‘Hey, you must’ve been doing some weird voodoo on that storm! That was seriously strange - even for you guys, and that’s saying something.’
‘Don’t be so damn silly Trevor,’ said Cynthia matter-of-factly. She gave both the boys a big hug and asked them how they were doing.
The day after the weird storm Page 7 of the Sun had run the following story:
‘Two Severely Disabled Residents Get Fried Alive by Mysterious Lightning Bolt and SURVIVE! These Guys are COOKIN!’
Danny and Ben had gathered a measure of fame. The papers detailed their recent emergence as electrified oddities. The strange lightning strike and the suddenly appearing purple cloud had also been the subject of discussion in the local press. However, no one had paid much attention to the fact that the lightning-hit holly tree had turned to a glowing charcoal.
All the grass for 6 foot around the tree had become frozen black silhouettes that crunched into nothingness underfoot. That night the whole tree had shone a frosty electric blue. The next morning the birds were singing and landing on it just as usual. In fact it seemed to be positively teeming with bird-life as far as Nathalie could tell. Bemused, she had seen a number of normally timid sparrows struggling to find a perch on one of the tree’s limbs. The glowing charcoal-tree had become a bird magnet.
Nathalie unconsciously tried to wipe the strange scene from her mind. Human memory is a wonderful thing and everyone would quickly forget the strange phenomena, everyone apart from Sarah that is. She had been alongside Nathalie as they had both stared out the window at the bizarre sight. Sarah had tried her hardest to forget this latest evidence of her house-mate’s incurable weirdness but somehow that black tree nagged at her thoughts. It also reminded her how quiet the house had become with Danny and Ben gone once again. She missed them.
The very next day some men in brand new blue boiler suits had turned up unannounced to excavate the tree and lay some new turf. 'We’re from the North West Safety Inspectorate Commission,' they had said - free removal of dangerous trees. Michael had greatly admired their vehicle. His friends in the team would be so impressed if he turned up for practise in something like that. It was a brand new huge 4X4, top-of-the-range, testosterone-mobile in jet black. Bit posh for the council, Michael had thought, jealously, to himself.
Nathalie, forever thoughtful and motherly, had asked one of the efficient fellows if he wanted a nice hot cuppa. He just stared at her with his large hypnotic green eyes and sharply pronounced, ‘No’. That was just a teensy bit strange she thought. ‘Probably foreign,’ she had reassured herself.
In the hospital room, Cynthia looked closely at Danny and Ben once she had finished cuddling them both. They had lost quite a bit of weight and looked hot and restless. It occurred to Cynthia that at least their agitation might mean they were getting better.
‘Would you like to take a stroll down to that little park in the hospital grounds? You know, the one above the car-park,’ Cynthia asked. Danny and Ben were glad of the suggestion. They had been cooped up indoors for what felt like a lifetime and it was a warm sunny day to boot. Cynthia set Trevor to work getting them ready whilst she checked with the nurses.
The lift opened and the party trundled out. Ben turned around in his wheelchair, the slightly flat tyres sticking to the new marble flooring in the entrance lobby. He squeaked something indecipherable at Trevor, the student social worker.
‘Trevor! Don’t ignore him,’ said Cynthia sharply.
Ben had started making increasingly frantic noises and gesturing toward the corridor. Danny began to look worried. Something was up and it was bound to be thoroughly unpleasant. Trevor just stood there.
‘What you picking up, Ben?’ said Danny telepathically.
‘Get out this foyer quick! It's gonna go BOOM!’