Expanded Horizons: Beyond the Blue

Flammability: Chapter One

Clare's forehead rested against the guardrail of the bed, eyes barely open, surrounded by dark circles, the silence in the room only broken by the occasional sound of the respirator machine pumping air into her son's lungs.

"How could this happen..." she asked herself. "It was just another night. How..."

She broke down into silent tears, as if the sound of her cries would disturb her comatose son and prevent his head wound from healing. She gripped his hand strongly, thankful that his attackers at least left his limbs intact. The doctors believed his brain-swelling would get worse, possibly even kill him. Clare looked at her son through blurry water, holding her breath to prevent herself from crying more.

"How could I not have known? How?" she asked of the air above her boy. "I should've been there more. M-maybe you wouldn't have gotten involved with them, stuck to your studies.

"Maybe you would've stayed home last night. Maybe you would've let me kiss your forehead like you used to before you went to bed. Maybe we could still keep going like old times when David was home.

"Maybe I could tell you I love you again, and you would hear me. And maybe you would answer me like you used to."

Clare couldn't keep it back any more, and the tears flowed like rain droplets down a glass pane. Her grip weakened with her resolve as she lost hope. Any hope that her son would recover. Any hope he could forgive her for not being there. Any hope that his father could still be alive somewhere and return someday.

Three knocks rang from the door like church bells on a cold winter night. Every time, Clare froze, fearful that it would be the doctor, telling her she couldn't keep her son intubated any longer, that it was time to let go. His condition seemed to worsen every hour, and the doctors were less than encouraging.

When the door opened, however, she did not recognize the man who stepped in and quietly closed the door. A gaunt man, not really heavy but not really light, not quite haggard, but certainly not the most well-kept in appearance. Something seemed off, though, and she couldn't place what it was.

"Who are you?" she asked defensively, moving to shield her son. The man removed a his headwear and held it to his chest.

"I'm here to help," he said reassuringly. Clare felt entirely unassured by his strangely-hued green eyes. "I understand you're in a bit of a tight spot here."

"Tight spot?" Clare repeated, absolutely stunned at his words. "My son is dying!"

"Yes, I know," the man said. "Shame, that. O-course, it doesn't have to be."

"Who do you think you are, to come in here and just-"

"Ah, how rude of me!" the man interrupted. "I am Jacob. I'm from across the sea."

"Is that supposed to mean something?" Clare looked at him distrustingly.

"No, and I hope it remains that way," the man said with a cold smile. "But enough about me. What can I do for your boy?"

"What?" Clare looked him over. "You aren't a doctor. I didn't even see you on the way in here. Leave."

"Oh, but that would hardly be a good thing for anyone," the man said. In one swift motion, he took a chair, flipped it around and sat down into the chairback. "Especially not him."

"Why don't you just say what you want to say so I can say no?"

"Because I know you'll say yes."

"Can you just leave me be?"

"I suppose I could. But that wouldn't serve anything."

"Then what do you want?" Clare asked, exasperated. She just wanted the strange man to leave.