Author's Note: I wrote this for an English class assignment. It came out better than I had expected, so I decided to post it here. This is set ten years after the end of the book. This probably won't make sense if you've only seen the movie and not read the book. I've been told that the movie is quite different-having never seen it myself, I don't know. This is set ten years after the book ends.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, they're the property of Michael Crichton. I do in fact own Sister Martha, the crabby desk nun, and St. Christopher's.
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~FORGOTTEN THOUGHTS~
The phone rang shrilly, causing Norman Johnson to jump a little. He hadn't actually been sleeping on the job, but it had been close. Rubbing a hand over his face, he reached out to pick up the receiver, wondering why someone had chosen that moment to call, instead of waiting until Norman had left the office. He couldn't deal with any more, not right at the moment.
"Dr. Norman Johnson speaking," he sighed.
"Norman? It's Beth. Beth Halpern? You remember me?"
How did she think he could have forgotten her, after all they'd been through with that undersea mess? Still, he reasoned, it had been ten years since they'd last spoken.
"Beth! Good to hear from you. How've you been?" His tiredness had suddenly vanished. His confusion, however, had grown. Why was Beth calling him now, after a decade of no contact had passed?
"I'm good- listen Norman, you won't believe what I just saw in the paper today."
"What was it?"
"An obituary for Ted Fielding! I assume you remember Ted-"
Ted Fielding? Norman sat back in his chair. That wasn't possible, Ted was dead, he'd died in the underwater explosion, Norman and Beth had witnessed it, and he remembered it.
"Norman? You still there?" Beth's voice came over the line. She continued,
"Look, I don't know how it's possible, but somehow it is. Ted didn't die in that explosion- the obit says he died last week at St. Christopher's Mental Hospital."
"Whoa, a mental hospital? What happened to him? How did he survive?"
Beth sighed, giving Norman the impression that these were the questions she'd been mulling over as well.
"Look, I don't understand it either- I just know what the newspaper said. Maybe someone would know more at the hospital. The obituary says it's in Philadelphia, so why don't we visit the hospital and try to find out whatever we can, okay?"
"Sure, let's do that. Can you be there tomorrow?"
"I can try…see you then Norman."
**********************************************************************************************
Throwing his bag down on the polished wood table in his Philly hotel room, Norman reached for the phone book. Under "Mental Institutions", it was listed:
St. Christopher's Mental Institution
784 Cedar Street
809-9534
Norman dialed the number, and listened to the recorded message on the other end. No one was available to take his call, the message said, but he could try an extension. Not knowing which extension to try, Norman hung up in irritation. You can never talk to a real human any more, can you? It's all machines now- his mental rant was cut short by a knock at the door.
An hour later, Norman and Beth set out to find the institution where someone might know what on earth had happened to Ted. Finding the place, an imposing brick building, devoid of any architecture, save for a large stone cross, and possessing a cold, hopeless aura. Shivering slightly, Beth opened the door.
"Can I help you?" An old nun stood behind the admitting desk. She questioned the pair, giving them a subtle once-over with her eyes. Apparently deciding that they looked either harmless or at least somewhat sane, she gestured for them to approach the desk.
"We need to find out some information about one of your patients-"
"Patient information is not given out to anyone but family members," the nun said primly. "If you're not family, I'll have to ask you to leave."
Beth tried again, explaining that the patient in question was deceased and had no family. The two of them had been friends of the patient, she went on, and just wanted to know how he had ended up in a mental hospital. The nun regarded Beth for a moment, sighed, and asked for the patient's name.
"Theodore Fielding?" the nun repeated. "In that case, you'll want to talk to Sister Martha. She looked after Mr. Fielding for nine of his ten years here. Martha will be able to tell you anything you need to know."
Beth and Norman approached the aged nun with some degree of apprehension. Neither of them was really sure if they wanted to know the truth of what had happened to Ted. At the same time though, they were deathly curious to know not only how he'd survived, but also what had put him in a mental institution.
Sister Martha turned to face them, peering up at them from beneath the hood of her nun's habit.
"Can I help you?" Her voice was surprisingly young sounding, coming from such a withered old woman. Bright blue eyes sparkled in her aged face. She had a friendlier air about her than did the nun at the desk.
"Er, yes. We were hoping you could give us some information at a former patient you cared for." Beth sounded hesitant. "The sister at the desk told us you cared for him- Ted Fielding?"
The old nun's eyes clouded with sadness. "Ah yes, Ted was my favorite patient, such a brilliant mind, such a shame…" she trailed off looking as though she still had regrets about the fate of poor Ted.
"What was a shame?"
Sister Martha sighed. "Ted was such an intelligent young man, such a active curiosity-" here Norman had to smile, remembering Ted's ever-present questions, his desire to know everything.
"Do you know how Ted ended up here?" Beth asked, bring up their original question, the thing they both wanted to know.
"Yes, I do…for all his intellect, Ted was also paranoid and delusional. From the day he arrived to the day he died two weeks ago, he was full of conspiracy theories about the government, about aliens-"
Norman broke in, "Aliens?"
Sister Martha sighed sadly. "Yes, Ted's main worries were about a secret government plot involving an underwater spaceship-" at this Beth and Norman looked quickly at each other "-and something about time travel and a sphere." The sister thought for a moment. "Come to think of it, Ted mentioned the word 'sphere' more than anything else. At first, we all thought he was saying 'spear', and we kept telling him that the aliens he seemed to think existed were going to attack him. One day, he finally gave up and told me it was a 'sphere' that would destroy him, not a spear. I believe his exact words were 'The sphere! The sphere will be the ruination of us all, even you poor innocents here on land. It will destroy us all."
Something was itching at the back of Norman's brain. The repeated use of the word 'sphere' had triggered a brief flash of déjà vu, a slight twinge at the back of his mind. What was it he thought he should remem-
Calm waves lapped at the rocks at his feet. He was inside the sphere, with that calm, timeless voice speaking to him, discussing imagination and human responsibility. He felt completely safe, with that wise, eternal voice discoursing through the void. Now that he knew of the sphere's power and what it did to those who entered it, Norman knew he should be frightened, but that stillness and beauty allayed his fears-
"Norman? Norman, are you alright?" It was Beth, peering worriedly into his face. Norman shook his head to clear it, then realized where he was.
"What? Oh, yeah Beth, I'm still with you. Where's Sister Martha?"
Beth still looked concerned. "Norman, she just left- what were you thinking about? You looked like you were a million miles away."
"Not a million, Beth. Just a decade- a different time, a different place…"
"What are you talking about?"
He blinked confusedly. Suddenly, the brief revelation that had been given him was gone, just as quickly as it had come.
"I really have no idea…I think I'm sleep deprived. Can we go back to the hotel now?"
Beth studied his face intently. He looked normal again, if a little tired. She hadn't said anything to him about it, since it was obvious he didn't have the answer either, but when he'd been daydreaming, a rapturous look had settled on his face. He looked like he'd been transported, as he'd said, to another time, another place. Beth shook her head. It was probably nothing, just a combination of stress and lack of sleep.
Norman's not the only one suffering from sleep-deprivation here, Beth thought. When Sister Martha had been telling Ted's story about the sphere tales, Beth had experienced the weirdest sense of déjà vu. You need sleep, Beth dear, she told herself as she and Norman entered the hotel's front door.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, they're the property of Michael Crichton. I do in fact own Sister Martha, the crabby desk nun, and St. Christopher's.
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~FORGOTTEN THOUGHTS~
The phone rang shrilly, causing Norman Johnson to jump a little. He hadn't actually been sleeping on the job, but it had been close. Rubbing a hand over his face, he reached out to pick up the receiver, wondering why someone had chosen that moment to call, instead of waiting until Norman had left the office. He couldn't deal with any more, not right at the moment.
"Dr. Norman Johnson speaking," he sighed.
"Norman? It's Beth. Beth Halpern? You remember me?"
How did she think he could have forgotten her, after all they'd been through with that undersea mess? Still, he reasoned, it had been ten years since they'd last spoken.
"Beth! Good to hear from you. How've you been?" His tiredness had suddenly vanished. His confusion, however, had grown. Why was Beth calling him now, after a decade of no contact had passed?
"I'm good- listen Norman, you won't believe what I just saw in the paper today."
"What was it?"
"An obituary for Ted Fielding! I assume you remember Ted-"
Ted Fielding? Norman sat back in his chair. That wasn't possible, Ted was dead, he'd died in the underwater explosion, Norman and Beth had witnessed it, and he remembered it.
"Norman? You still there?" Beth's voice came over the line. She continued,
"Look, I don't know how it's possible, but somehow it is. Ted didn't die in that explosion- the obit says he died last week at St. Christopher's Mental Hospital."
"Whoa, a mental hospital? What happened to him? How did he survive?"
Beth sighed, giving Norman the impression that these were the questions she'd been mulling over as well.
"Look, I don't understand it either- I just know what the newspaper said. Maybe someone would know more at the hospital. The obituary says it's in Philadelphia, so why don't we visit the hospital and try to find out whatever we can, okay?"
"Sure, let's do that. Can you be there tomorrow?"
"I can try…see you then Norman."
**********************************************************************************************
Throwing his bag down on the polished wood table in his Philly hotel room, Norman reached for the phone book. Under "Mental Institutions", it was listed:
St. Christopher's Mental Institution
784 Cedar Street
809-9534
Norman dialed the number, and listened to the recorded message on the other end. No one was available to take his call, the message said, but he could try an extension. Not knowing which extension to try, Norman hung up in irritation. You can never talk to a real human any more, can you? It's all machines now- his mental rant was cut short by a knock at the door.
An hour later, Norman and Beth set out to find the institution where someone might know what on earth had happened to Ted. Finding the place, an imposing brick building, devoid of any architecture, save for a large stone cross, and possessing a cold, hopeless aura. Shivering slightly, Beth opened the door.
"Can I help you?" An old nun stood behind the admitting desk. She questioned the pair, giving them a subtle once-over with her eyes. Apparently deciding that they looked either harmless or at least somewhat sane, she gestured for them to approach the desk.
"We need to find out some information about one of your patients-"
"Patient information is not given out to anyone but family members," the nun said primly. "If you're not family, I'll have to ask you to leave."
Beth tried again, explaining that the patient in question was deceased and had no family. The two of them had been friends of the patient, she went on, and just wanted to know how he had ended up in a mental hospital. The nun regarded Beth for a moment, sighed, and asked for the patient's name.
"Theodore Fielding?" the nun repeated. "In that case, you'll want to talk to Sister Martha. She looked after Mr. Fielding for nine of his ten years here. Martha will be able to tell you anything you need to know."
Beth and Norman approached the aged nun with some degree of apprehension. Neither of them was really sure if they wanted to know the truth of what had happened to Ted. At the same time though, they were deathly curious to know not only how he'd survived, but also what had put him in a mental institution.
Sister Martha turned to face them, peering up at them from beneath the hood of her nun's habit.
"Can I help you?" Her voice was surprisingly young sounding, coming from such a withered old woman. Bright blue eyes sparkled in her aged face. She had a friendlier air about her than did the nun at the desk.
"Er, yes. We were hoping you could give us some information at a former patient you cared for." Beth sounded hesitant. "The sister at the desk told us you cared for him- Ted Fielding?"
The old nun's eyes clouded with sadness. "Ah yes, Ted was my favorite patient, such a brilliant mind, such a shame…" she trailed off looking as though she still had regrets about the fate of poor Ted.
"What was a shame?"
Sister Martha sighed. "Ted was such an intelligent young man, such a active curiosity-" here Norman had to smile, remembering Ted's ever-present questions, his desire to know everything.
"Do you know how Ted ended up here?" Beth asked, bring up their original question, the thing they both wanted to know.
"Yes, I do…for all his intellect, Ted was also paranoid and delusional. From the day he arrived to the day he died two weeks ago, he was full of conspiracy theories about the government, about aliens-"
Norman broke in, "Aliens?"
Sister Martha sighed sadly. "Yes, Ted's main worries were about a secret government plot involving an underwater spaceship-" at this Beth and Norman looked quickly at each other "-and something about time travel and a sphere." The sister thought for a moment. "Come to think of it, Ted mentioned the word 'sphere' more than anything else. At first, we all thought he was saying 'spear', and we kept telling him that the aliens he seemed to think existed were going to attack him. One day, he finally gave up and told me it was a 'sphere' that would destroy him, not a spear. I believe his exact words were 'The sphere! The sphere will be the ruination of us all, even you poor innocents here on land. It will destroy us all."
Something was itching at the back of Norman's brain. The repeated use of the word 'sphere' had triggered a brief flash of déjà vu, a slight twinge at the back of his mind. What was it he thought he should remem-
Calm waves lapped at the rocks at his feet. He was inside the sphere, with that calm, timeless voice speaking to him, discussing imagination and human responsibility. He felt completely safe, with that wise, eternal voice discoursing through the void. Now that he knew of the sphere's power and what it did to those who entered it, Norman knew he should be frightened, but that stillness and beauty allayed his fears-
"Norman? Norman, are you alright?" It was Beth, peering worriedly into his face. Norman shook his head to clear it, then realized where he was.
"What? Oh, yeah Beth, I'm still with you. Where's Sister Martha?"
Beth still looked concerned. "Norman, she just left- what were you thinking about? You looked like you were a million miles away."
"Not a million, Beth. Just a decade- a different time, a different place…"
"What are you talking about?"
He blinked confusedly. Suddenly, the brief revelation that had been given him was gone, just as quickly as it had come.
"I really have no idea…I think I'm sleep deprived. Can we go back to the hotel now?"
Beth studied his face intently. He looked normal again, if a little tired. She hadn't said anything to him about it, since it was obvious he didn't have the answer either, but when he'd been daydreaming, a rapturous look had settled on his face. He looked like he'd been transported, as he'd said, to another time, another place. Beth shook her head. It was probably nothing, just a combination of stress and lack of sleep.
Norman's not the only one suffering from sleep-deprivation here, Beth thought. When Sister Martha had been telling Ted's story about the sphere tales, Beth had experienced the weirdest sense of déjà vu. You need sleep, Beth dear, she told herself as she and Norman entered the hotel's front door.