The Color Green
“So, you’re telling me that you can’t see the color green?” The therapist’s voice held irritation – she was a professional, but obviously considered this to be a waste of her time, no matter the ungodly amount she was charging me.
“That’s right, Susan,” I said quietly from the couch she’d put me on. She was a traditionalist, but I didn’t care. The plush cushions were comfortable and I was content to lounge there so long as she was listening.
There was a moment of silence and I looked up at Dr. Susan Frankovich, who was staring back at me with a look of clear disdain. I’d gotten under her skin more than once during this session, but it looked like I’d finally pushed her too far. I smirked.
“So.” She made the word a sentence unto itself. “You’ve paid for my services – my extensive knowledge, to tell me that you’re colorblind?”
“No.” If she could play with the language, I could as well. “I’ve paid for your exorbitant services to tell you that I’m blind to a single color – green.”
She frowned, the expression causing her thin glasses to slip down over the bridge of her nose, and giving her the look of a gaunt-faced hawk about to sweep down on fleeing prey. “Marty, this sounds like something you should take to a medical professional – these kinds of disorders are not my specialty.”
“You have one, doc? I’d never have known. It’s taken you an hour and a half to get around to my real problem, despite my sitting here throwing hints in your direction a third-grader couldn’t miss.”
Her frown deepened, and she reached up to take the glasses off of her face before they slipped and fell to the pad in front of her.
“Hostility is your choice, Marty, but not one that I see as terribly effective. Regardless of your feelings toward me, I recommend again that you see specialist.”
“I have!” I exploded. This was the best she could come up with? “There’s nothing wrong with me, medically. Not a thing. X-rays, CAT scans, MRIs – all normal! The last three specialists I’ve seen told me this thing is in my head – and one of them referred me to you. He has quite the sense of humor, apparently.”
Frankovich set down her pad and pencil and steelped her hands in her lap. “Interesting,” she said, “who was the genius that pointed you in my direction?”
“Markus Trody,” I replied, and her eyes widened slightly. She hadn’t believed me, clearly.
“Markus? Really? It’s been…years. Well,” she picked up her pad and slipped her glasses back on, “perhaps there’s more we can do. Explain.”
Her tone was commanding, but I didn’t mind. At least she was listening.
“It happened three years ago – I was sitting at a traffic light and the thing went green, but I had no idea. I’d been driving for the bulk of the day, and had no problems with any of the other lights. The cars behind me honked, so I went, thinking I’d stumbled onto the only light in town that wasn’t working. Of course, two or three more convinced me that I was the one who had the problem. No other colors have given me trouble and it’s not just that “light” shade of green, in case you’re wondering – it’s everything from Christmas tree to lime – green is gone for me.”
Frankovich frowned again; she was a severe-looking woman, and the expression didn’t do anything to help her appearance. “Interesting. Almost sounds like…wait. Wait here.”
She stood quickly and moved into the next room, and I could hear her rummaging around for something. Laying back on the couch, I closed my eyes, a trill of hope running up my spine. Likely this was the same as everything else – a dead end, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t be at least a little hopeful.
“Here!” I heard her say as she came back into the office. “I knew I’d seen it before.” Opening my eyes, I saw that she held a leather-bound book, edges limp and cracked from years of improper storage. “Do you have any idea what this is?”
I shook my head; my knowledge of ancient texts went as far as knowing that Homer wrote the Odyssey and it was boring as hell.
“It’s called the Menocron – it describes a number of conditions that a little-known ancient culture believed affected the mind but that could manifest in the form of physical effects.” She leafed through it for a few moments. “Here! This is what I was thinking of – Green Eye.” She paused to read the passage. “It fits you almost perfectly. A sudden loss of color perception, combined with a significant increase in irritability.”
I shot her a flat look; apparently she wasn’t done being funny. “What are you saying, doc? That I’ve got some sort of ancient disease?”
“Not quite.” Standing, she moved quickly to the couch and knelt down beside me, her right hand curling into a fist expect for her pointer finger, which she brought up to my eye level, waved around for a moment and then jammed toward my left eye socket before I had a chance to move.
I’d never had my eye gouged out, so I didn’t know what to expect, but I figured pain would be a part of the process. Instead her finger stopped a hairsbreadth from my eye, filling my vision but leaving me unharmed.
Frankovich was straining, and after a long moment with watering eyes I blinked; a wave of force ripped out, slamming into her body and throwing up and across her desk. The blowback pushed me deep into the couch and left me as weak as I’d ever felt.
“What the hell?” I managed.
“Oh God,” she moaned, “it’s true. You’re one of them.” Climbing off of the desk, she struggled into her chair. “Give me a moment to recover and I’ll tell you more; suffice it to say you’ve just had your first taste of magic.”
- D
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