March 1918

Mr. Dwight opened the driver's side door. I felt a fresh wave of anxiety as he lowered himself into the driver's seat next to me, but I didn't understand why.

Was it because sitting here, right next to him, I couldn't even feel my extra sense? No, that wasn't really it. It wasn't because he was incredibly handsome, either. There was nothing frightening about that; intimidating maybe, but not frightening. Was it because he represented the hospital? The uncertain, terrifying future? Maybe.

It was silly to give in to the fear. Still, I was compelled to edge away from him in the forced proximity of the car. I felt my heart pounding faster than usual in my chest.

Calm down! I told myself. It didn't work. I decided to strike up a conversation as a distraction.

"What do you do at the hospital?" I asked.

His eyes flashed to my face.

"I'm Dr. Gorton's assistant." he answered. I'd already known that much, except for the doctor's name. And he didn't seem to be willing to volunteer any more information than that.

"So do you usually pick up patients?"

He flinched a little at my question and glanced at the sky. "No, not usually. Most patients are brought in by their families." We were on the main road now and he started driving faster. We were going nearly forty miles per hour and the ride was getting a little bumpy. His eyes flickered to the sky again.

"Are we in a hurry?" I asked, a little irritated at the jostling but still too intimidated to openly complain.

He gritted his teeth. "I'm concerned that it may rain before we reach the... hospital. There's a good deal of unpaved road on our route it and it's an unpleasant drive when muddy."

"Well, you don't need to worry about that," I answered brightly. That explained why he kept looking up at the clouds. "It won't rain today. In fact the sun will be out soon."

His head whipped around and he stared at me. I was a little worried because we were still barreling down the road at almost forty-five miles per hour. But his dark eyes burning into mine terrified me more. I felt the blood drain from my face.

"What? Can you know that?"

I nodded meekly. "I... I thought you would know. That's why I'm going to the hospital. I see things in the future. Sometimes they happen. The doctor said he had a treatment for me."

"Sometimes?" There was no escaping from the intensity of his gaze.

"It's not as certain with people. The weather is easy, though. I saw that this morning. The sun will be out around noon."

He groaned and looked away, trying to coax even more speed out of the straining engine.

"What's the matter?"

"I need to get back!" he snapped, harshly.

"I don't understand - " He looked at me again and the words stuck in my throat.

"How does it work? Can you see things when you want to?" He wasn't speaking in the soft tones he'd used in the house anymore. His voice was hard, stressed, and it frightened me.

I nodded. "Usually."

"Can you see when, exactly, the sun will be out? How much time we have before then?"

This was getting really weird. The strangeness of the request muted my fear a little and I was able to answer him with a semblance of calm.

"I can't now." I shook my head.

"Why not?" he snapped, gazing at the sky again.

I shrank away from the anger in his voice.

"I don't know. I can't see things near you. That's never happened to me before. I can't even feel my extra sense now. It's like you're blocking it."

He turned and stared at me again, with anxious, incredulous eyes. He took a deep breath and composed his features, but his dark eyes were still burning with anxiety. After a few moments he spoke again, using the soft, gentle voice from in the house.

"Miss Brandon. I know this is very untoward of me. But I must ask you to try to remember, if you can. Did you see anything that might have given you a more specific time when the sun would shine?" His voice became very smooth and soothing, like warm butter. "Please, try to remember. It is of the utmost importance."

My heart was still racing and it took a minute for me to process his request. Once I put all the words in the right order in my mind and finally made them make sense I decided... why not?

I closed my eyes and tried to recall anything that might help. The vision had been from the perspective of the living room window. The cloudy day suddenly lightened, then warm yellow sunshine streamed in. I hadn't seen the clock on the mantelpiece in my vision. Even if I had I probably wouldn't have remembered what time it showed. But I had noticed some things that might help.

"Looking from our living room window, the sun will just be touching the upper branches of the old oak out front. The sunbeams through the window will reach about three inches beyond the chaise under the sill."

He gazed at me with real interest for a moment, as if he was impressed. Then his expression grew very dark and he turned to stare out the windshield. He was silent, brooding for a long time.

"That's the best I can do," I told him, apologetically.

"You did well," he said, but his voice was seething with anger. He still didn't slow the car.

"Then what's the matter?"

"Nothing!" he spat.

That got my back up.

"What's the problem? So what if the sun comes out? It's not like it'll kill you!"

I'd expected him to respond to my anger. But he just stared ahead unmoving, his expression blank.

"No, it won't kill me," he murmured, as if to himself.

In the silence that followed he seemed more intimidating. He was so still, except for the movements necessary to drive the car. His eyes were very dark; I'd noticed that, when he was interrogating me earlier. He had dark purple circles under them, like he hadn't slept in a week. He was very pale, too. Could he be sick? Maybe that was why he worked at a hospital. He seemed strong and healthy to me, but it would explain a lot of things if he weren't. The circles under his eyes, the pale skin, the fear of sunlight; maybe they were a result of an illness? Hadn't I heard of sicknesses that caused a person to fear bright light, or to be very sensitive to the sun? I felt guilty, then. If he was ill, then I had been very rude to him.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, not really loud enough for him to hear, but he looked at me anyway.

"I'm sorry," I said louder. "I shouldn't have gotten angry at you. It's none of my business why the sun bothers you."

He sighed and looked out the windshield again. "You don't understand..." he murmured.

"And I don't need to. That's what I'm saying. I know what it's like to be different. It's not right for me to demand an explanation from you."

He looked at me again. I still felt a little overwhelmed by his stare, but it was getting a tiny bit easier. I was able to actually see his face. It was the face one might imagine for Alexander the Great.

He groaned, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. I looked out the windshield, afraid we were going to drive off the road, but we didn't.

He grumbled something unintelligible under his breath - it sounded almost like a different language - then he looked at me again.

"Miss Brandon, I'm afraid I cannot take you directly to the hospital."

"Why not?"

His eyes narrowed a little. "I won't tell you the truth. So would you prefer a lie or no explanation at all?"

I felt my heart jump a little at this and swallowed.

"Am I allowed to know where we're going?" It felt odd not being able to see for myself if I wanted to.

"I haven't decided. Would you mind venturing into the wilderness? Or perhaps you would prefer to see a few picture shows? I believe there is a new one featuring Mary Pickford."

The stress was fading a little from his eyes. When he finished his speech he actually smiled slightly. The smile made his face even more beautiful than before.

It took me another long moment to process what he'd said. This ride to the hospital was a lot more bizarre than I had expected it to be.

"We can go into the woods if you need to. I'm really not in the mood for a picture show." I decided it would be uncomfortable to be sitting next to him in such a dark room for so long. At least in the woods there would be some light.

He nodded once and then the car suddenly lurched to the left and we were bouncing down an overgrown unpaved road, hurtling between trees at thirty miles per hour. I gripped my seat with both hands and clenched my jaw to keep my teeth from rattling together.

The trees soon surrounded us on all sides. He pulled the car off the dirt road under the boughs of an enormous oak and shut off the engine. I looked out the window and couldn't see the sky at all through the interwoven branches above. We were in such a deep shade it almost seemed to be dusk outside.

"So... what do we do now?" I asked as the dust settled around us.

He raised an eyebrow. "We wait."

"For... how long?"

"Until the sun has set," he answered, as though it was obvious. "You may take a nap in the back seat if you would like to."

"I'm not tired," I told him. I realized I was still clutching the seat and cowering against the door. I forced myself to let go and sit up. We sat in silence for a long time. I smoothed out my dress and fidgeted. Mr. Dwight just sat still, his eyes flashing to me whenever I moved.

We probably had a good five hours before sunset. It would be ridiculous to spend it sitting in uncomfortable silence. So I decided to strike up a conversation again.

"What do you do at the hospital, since you don't normally pick up patients?"

He didn't look at me when he answered. "During nights, cleaning and maintaining security. I do some landscaping, too, but only recreationally. During the day I organize the food preparation and occasionally assist the doctor with his patients."

"That sounds like a lot of work. I'll bet you get tired working both days and nights."

His eyes flashed to my face for a moment but he answered in a calm voice.

"I alternate days and nights. But it's true that sometimes my shifts don't leave much time for sleep."

"Maybe they should hire someone to help you," I suggested, eying the purple circles under his eyes.

"I actually enjoy my work most of the time," he admitted. "I consider myself fortunate to have found such a good fit. In exchange for my willingness to perform a large amount of unpleasant menial labor I am granted a good deal of latitude for my hours and methods. So long as I perform my tasks the administrator doesn't interfere with my preferences... at least not usually."

"Oh." I was pretty sure that last part was added because picking me up today was not one of his preferences.

We sat for another immeasurably long moment in uncomfortable silence. I wasn't sure what was worse, the off-balance blindness I felt in his presence, the awkward silence in the car, the irrational anxiety I felt being so close to him, or the fear of where he would be taking me soon.

Since I was stealing glances at him whenever I could, I noticed when Mr. Dwight's eyes widened. He gazed upwards out the window, towards the canopy above. Just then the light outside grew slightly brighter, warming to a yellow-green hue. The sun had come out, but it didn't quite reach us here in the shade.

"Right on schedule," he murmured, and then looked at me. "You were right."

"Of course. Like I said, the weather is easy."

He shook his head slightly, almost in disbelief, then looked out the windshield again. His eyes were slightly anxious, as if he were waiting for an enemy.

I watched him, wondering what his bizarre behavior could all be about, but too afraid to ask.

After a while he turned his forceful eyes on me again. I struggled to keep from trembling.

"May I ask you a personal question?"

"As long as I don't have to answer." I smiled timidly.

He smiled back for a second. Then his smile faded and his forehead creased in curiosity.

"Why are you going to this place? You don't seem the usual type."

I raised my eyebrows in confusion. "But the doctor said he's treated cases like mine before."

"What kinds of cases?"

"I heard something about seizures and psychosis when he was talking with my parents."

"He has treated psychoses before. And he's experimenting with some treatments for epilepsy. I have to admit, though, Miss. Brandon, that no patient like you has ever been admitted before. Much less of her own free will."

I frowned at the reminder. "I don't really have a choice."

"Why?" he pressed.

I sighed. "I decided it was best to go willingly than wait for someone to make me."

"Someone would have forced you?" His brow furrowed. "You saw that with your talent?"

I nodded.

"Do you know who?"

"No. It seemed to be a group of men, but I couldn't really see their faces." It was strange, I'd only just met this man today and already he seemed as comfortable with my abilities as Dee was.

He frowned and looked away, out his driver-side window.

We sat in silence again for a while. Then I thought of another question to ask him.

"What is the hospital like?"

He didn't move or respond though I waited expectantly for over a minute. I was about to repeat my question when he finally answered quietly.

"It is not a pleasant place, Miss. Brandon."

I heard my breath catch. I'd suspected as much, but it was still disturbing to have it confirmed.

"Why not?" I whispered.

He sighed and growled something to himself between his teeth. It sounded like: "...should not get involved..."

I waited.

"It would probably be more prudent if you waited to come to your own conclusions when you arrive."

"Oh."

We sat in silence again for a few more minutes.

"May I ask another personal question?" he asked, turning to face me again.

"Okay."

"You have a remarkable ability. Do you truly wish it to be purged?"

I looked down when I answered. "I thought I did, at first. I know now that I don't. And I'm afraid that the treatment will work and I'll lose it."

He turned to stare out the windshield, not responding.

"Can I ask you something, then?"

"Ask."

"How is it that you are so... accepting of what I can do? Everyone else - except my sister - thinks I'm a freak."

"Do you think you're a freak?" he countered, turning to examine me.

"I know I am. I embody the definition."

He nodded, smiling a little. "True. But, in case it has escaped your notice, I am not entirely normal myself."

I frowned.

"Does that disturb you?" He smirked.

"I'm just curious. I don't like secrets unless I'm the one keeping them."

He smiled. "Maybe I'll tell you one of mine someday."

So he had more than one secret. It figured. I was surprised to realize that I was actually almost comfortable sitting alone in the cab of the car with Mr. Dwight. The anxiety I'd initially felt in his presence was starting to wear off a little. I still wasn't able to look into his eyes for any length of time, but I felt my muscles relaxing and my heart slowing. I took a deep breath and leaned my head against the back of the seat.

"If you would be more comfortable, you are welcome to recline in the back seat. I will wait outside to give you privacy."

"I am starting to feel a little drowsy," I admitted. "But you don't need to stand outside. That would be silly. We still have hours before sunset."

He got out and walked around the car to open my door.

"I don't mind. And don't fear, I will stay close to make sure you're safe." He chuckled and I got the feeling I was missing a joke.

I stood up and stretched. "If you really want to." Then something else caught my notice. "But first I, um..." I felt my cheeks warm. "I need to have a private moment, if you don't mind."

He looked confused. "You want me to leave?"

"No, I need to go." I looked around for a promising trail or distant clump of thick bushes.

"I don't understand." He still looked confused.

My face got hotter. "Are you going to make me say it? We left my house a long time ago and... I had a lot to drink this morning."

He stared at me a moment longer, like I was babbling in some foreign language. Then suddenly awareness dawned on his face.

"Ah... oh, I see." Then he too looked around. "I don't... um. I mean, I'm not certain what, precisely, you require."

I stifled a giggle. His helpless floundering amused me. It made him seem much less threatening.

"I think I can manage on my own. Just wait here, okay?"

He nodded, obviously relieved to be free of whatever responsibilities he'd feared were necessary.

I walked down the dirt road a little ways and found a small trail. I followed that into the brush until I couldn't see the road anymore. It was awkward, but this was not my first time. When we'd lived in the country Dee and I would wander far from home while playing and sometimes things needed to happen sooner rather than later.

I was walking back to the road, feeling much relieved, when I noticed the foliage rustling low by the trail. When I came to where the trail opened up to the road I turned... and screamed.

A six-foot alligator was there, just on the other side of the brush. It's toothsome mouth open wide as it whipped it's head around, barely missing my left leg. I jumped back, staggering in my hasty retreat.

I was so focused on the alligator that I didn't see how it happened. But suddenly a white hand was clamped down over the alligator's mouth, holding it shut. In the next instant the beast was lifted up off the ground and completely restrained in the arms of Mr. Dwight.

I stared, open-mouthed at the impossible scene. Mr. Dwight had one arm around the alligator's lower body, restraining its hind legs. His other arm was around it's head with his hand still clamping the creature's mouth shut. The huge alligator was thrashing its tail, trying to whip its body around but otherwise completely immobilized.

Mr. Dwight looked at me for a moment. My mind was so paralyzed by shock that I couldn't tell what his expression was. Then he turned swiftly, jogging down the road and out of sight, hauling the struggling gator with him.

Once my heart started again I slowly walked back to the car and climbed into the back seat. What had just happened? Was that even possible? I'd thought alligators were so strong! I'd heard of people wrestling with them before. Could Mr. Dwight have learned how to do that somewhere? Maybe he'd once worked at a zoo? It had looked so easy for him, though!

I jumped when the front door of the car opened.

Mr. Dwight poked his head in.

"Are you quite well?"

I nodded. "How did you do that?"

He got in and closed his door, then twisted around in his seat to face me.

"I am... a bit stronger than I look. Also, it's fairly easy to hold the creature's mouth closed. You could have done that part yourself if you'd known how."

I just nodded again, still a bit stunned.

"Are you still frightened? I should have made sure it was safe before letting you go alone."

"I'm okay now. Just surprised. What did you do with it?"

"I took it far enough away that it won't come back." He grinned. I couldn't help cringing a little at the sight of his perfectly white teeth flashing in the dark of the car.

He turned around and looked out the windshield. We were quiet for a long time again. But this time it didn't feel awkward, just peaceful. I felt myself relaxing again.

"Are you going to be in trouble for bringing me in so late to the hospital?" I asked.

He didn't turn when he answered. "I ought to be. But probably not. As I said before, I'm granted a significant amount of latitude in my position."

There was something very strange about this man. Very different. When I'd met Mr. Carolla at the ball he had seemed very pleasing on the outside - very genteel. But after talking with him for awhile I'd felt that there was a darkness there, underneath the pleasing surface.

With Mr. Dwight my impression was just the opposite. At first he'd seemed very dark. Unbelievably handsome, but frightening in a shivers-down-your-spine sort of way. But now that I was able to talk with him I was beginning to feel that, in spite of the intimidating and even chilling presence he exuded, there was a good man underneath.

"Are you ready to sleep?" he asked.

"I think so." I wasn't sure if I was tired, but taking a nap would help pass the time.

He didn't say anything else, he just opened the door and stepped out to give me privacy.

I uncurled myself as much as I could in the confined space, wrapping my coat around my body for warmth. While I lay there I let my mind wander out of habit. I tried to see what Mother and Father were doing. I tried to check on Dee. I tried to see where I was going and what would happen to me. But it was all to no avail. Mr. Dwight was right outside the car and I couldn't see anything. Not even to make sure my family was okay. It was frustrating and sad. I could probably guess how my family was, though. They would be distraught. Especially Dee. I wished that it didn't have to be so hard on her.

After a few more minutes of fruitless searching, seeing nothing, I felt my eyelids droop.