Seventy Three - BF
"How long do I have to keep the eye pads on now?" Scott asked again as he tucked hungrily into some breakfast.
"I'll see how your eyes look in five hours. Then, all going well, we'll let in the light." Professor Bunsen declared.
"I feel like a kid waiting for Christmas morning, again."
"How do they feel?" Jeff asked.
"Fine." Scott admitted. "A little dry maybe, but otherwise fine. There's no pain."
"If they are feeling dry we'd better lubricate them." Professor Bunsen said.
"Hey!" Scott found himself dragged out of his chair and away from his food.
"Don't forget to check his oil and water while you're at it." Gordon cheekily called after them.
***
"They look excellent." Professor Bunsen stated. "Have a look, Robot Head, and see what you think."
Brains peered through the ophthalmoscope. This adaptation was one of Professor Bunsen's inventions and allowed the user to examine a retina without the presence of any light. "V-Very pretty." He said. "Th-there's no scar tissue at all th-that I can see."
"Can't we turn on the light just a little bit?" Scott pleaded. "Just to see."
"No." Professor Bunsen said.
"How about a torch behind me, directed away from me?" Scott tried again hopefully.
"No."
"A candle?"
"No."
"A firefly in a blackened jar in a paper bag?"
"Be patient, Scott. We can't rush these things."
"One year without sight is hardly rushing it."
"If you've lasted a year, you can last a few hours more."
"In that case can I go? I've got a few things I've got to take care of."
"L-Like finishing breakfast?" Brains asked with amusement in his voice.
"That's top priority!"
***
Second priority was to find Virgil. Unsurprisingly he was attending to Thunderbird Two's starboard wing.
"Look out, here's the Lone Ranger." Alan called up from his vantage point under the wing.
Virgil peered over the vertiginous drop. "Hi Scott. How's it going?"
"Slowly." Scott said sourly as he rubbed at an eye pad. "I can't remember a longer six hours. How're you going up there?"
"Slowly." Virgil replied. "She's airworthy, but we should replace at least one of the panels. It'll take me most of the morning."
Scott was disappointed. He'd hoped to find time this morning to have that talk with Virgil. "Anything I can do to help?"
"No. Alan and I can take care of it."
"You can take over Virgil's job this afternoon." Alan said brightly. "You'll have to start pulling your weight around here again."
"Pulling my weight...! Watch it kiddo. I might not be able to see you at the moment, but that doesn't mean I can't take you down."
"You and whose army?"
Scott managed to snare Alan in a headlock. "Just me."
"Guys..."
"Hark! I hear a voice from on high." Alan released Scott's arm from around his neck. "What's up, Virg?"
"Me at the moment, and I'd love a drink of water. Can someone oblige?"
"You keep watch on him." Scott said. "I'll get it."
***
Grandma Tracy was arranging flowers in the lounge. She set the blooms in a vase and then looked at them critically. Unsatisfied she removed them and started again, trimming the stems first. Still unhappy with her work she tried a different arrangement. Then she decided that a different vase might look better.
It didn't.
Once again she shortened the stems and tackled the task again.
Maybe it was the position of the vase? She moved it to another part of the room.
No, it was definitely the arrangement. She trimmed the stems a third time before deciding that the first vase was the best choice.
By now the stems were too short.
She sighed.
"Mother, will you relax! It won't be long now."
"How can you be so calm Jeff?"
"Years of practise of worrying about those boys, Mother."
"But this is different, isn't it."
"Yes it is. And do you know how many reports I've read this morning? And how many I've written? And how many times I've signed something?"
She shook her head. "Knowing you it must be at least fifty."
"None." He stated. "I've read one report and have read the same paragraph at least twenty times and I still couldn't tell you what it's about. I've started writing and lost my train of thought. It's a document of complete gibberish. And I've signed one thing." He held up a paper napkin. His signature was scrawled across the centre. "I don't think that's going to win Tracy Industries the Carlton contract. I'm not calm. I'm just better at hiding it than you."
"It will be all right, won't it Jeff."
"Professor Bunsen seems confident."
"Do you trust him?"
"Scott and Virgil do..."
"But do you?"
"Brains doesn't have any doubts."
"Jeff." She said in exasperation.
He grinned. "Believe it or not, I do. Sure he's odd..."
"Try downright strange."
"... but I've looked over some of his past achievements and they've all been successes."
"And he likes Virgil's music. So he can't be all bad." She said reflectively.
"That's another reason why I'm willing to trust him. The boy needs someone outside of the family group to tell him his music's important."
His mother looked at him with open curiosity, but he didn't enlighten her, instead standing up with a yawn. "I'm going to get myself a coffee or else I'll never make it through the day. Would you like one?"
"Yes please." She watched him depart the room with a frown of concern on her face.
"How long do I have to keep the eye pads on now?" Scott asked again as he tucked hungrily into some breakfast.
"I'll see how your eyes look in five hours. Then, all going well, we'll let in the light." Professor Bunsen declared.
"I feel like a kid waiting for Christmas morning, again."
"How do they feel?" Jeff asked.
"Fine." Scott admitted. "A little dry maybe, but otherwise fine. There's no pain."
"If they are feeling dry we'd better lubricate them." Professor Bunsen said.
"Hey!" Scott found himself dragged out of his chair and away from his food.
"Don't forget to check his oil and water while you're at it." Gordon cheekily called after them.
***
"They look excellent." Professor Bunsen stated. "Have a look, Robot Head, and see what you think."
Brains peered through the ophthalmoscope. This adaptation was one of Professor Bunsen's inventions and allowed the user to examine a retina without the presence of any light. "V-Very pretty." He said. "Th-there's no scar tissue at all th-that I can see."
"Can't we turn on the light just a little bit?" Scott pleaded. "Just to see."
"No." Professor Bunsen said.
"How about a torch behind me, directed away from me?" Scott tried again hopefully.
"No."
"A candle?"
"No."
"A firefly in a blackened jar in a paper bag?"
"Be patient, Scott. We can't rush these things."
"One year without sight is hardly rushing it."
"If you've lasted a year, you can last a few hours more."
"In that case can I go? I've got a few things I've got to take care of."
"L-Like finishing breakfast?" Brains asked with amusement in his voice.
"That's top priority!"
***
Second priority was to find Virgil. Unsurprisingly he was attending to Thunderbird Two's starboard wing.
"Look out, here's the Lone Ranger." Alan called up from his vantage point under the wing.
Virgil peered over the vertiginous drop. "Hi Scott. How's it going?"
"Slowly." Scott said sourly as he rubbed at an eye pad. "I can't remember a longer six hours. How're you going up there?"
"Slowly." Virgil replied. "She's airworthy, but we should replace at least one of the panels. It'll take me most of the morning."
Scott was disappointed. He'd hoped to find time this morning to have that talk with Virgil. "Anything I can do to help?"
"No. Alan and I can take care of it."
"You can take over Virgil's job this afternoon." Alan said brightly. "You'll have to start pulling your weight around here again."
"Pulling my weight...! Watch it kiddo. I might not be able to see you at the moment, but that doesn't mean I can't take you down."
"You and whose army?"
Scott managed to snare Alan in a headlock. "Just me."
"Guys..."
"Hark! I hear a voice from on high." Alan released Scott's arm from around his neck. "What's up, Virg?"
"Me at the moment, and I'd love a drink of water. Can someone oblige?"
"You keep watch on him." Scott said. "I'll get it."
***
Grandma Tracy was arranging flowers in the lounge. She set the blooms in a vase and then looked at them critically. Unsatisfied she removed them and started again, trimming the stems first. Still unhappy with her work she tried a different arrangement. Then she decided that a different vase might look better.
It didn't.
Once again she shortened the stems and tackled the task again.
Maybe it was the position of the vase? She moved it to another part of the room.
No, it was definitely the arrangement. She trimmed the stems a third time before deciding that the first vase was the best choice.
By now the stems were too short.
She sighed.
"Mother, will you relax! It won't be long now."
"How can you be so calm Jeff?"
"Years of practise of worrying about those boys, Mother."
"But this is different, isn't it."
"Yes it is. And do you know how many reports I've read this morning? And how many I've written? And how many times I've signed something?"
She shook her head. "Knowing you it must be at least fifty."
"None." He stated. "I've read one report and have read the same paragraph at least twenty times and I still couldn't tell you what it's about. I've started writing and lost my train of thought. It's a document of complete gibberish. And I've signed one thing." He held up a paper napkin. His signature was scrawled across the centre. "I don't think that's going to win Tracy Industries the Carlton contract. I'm not calm. I'm just better at hiding it than you."
"It will be all right, won't it Jeff."
"Professor Bunsen seems confident."
"Do you trust him?"
"Scott and Virgil do..."
"But do you?"
"Brains doesn't have any doubts."
"Jeff." She said in exasperation.
He grinned. "Believe it or not, I do. Sure he's odd..."
"Try downright strange."
"... but I've looked over some of his past achievements and they've all been successes."
"And he likes Virgil's music. So he can't be all bad." She said reflectively.
"That's another reason why I'm willing to trust him. The boy needs someone outside of the family group to tell him his music's important."
His mother looked at him with open curiosity, but he didn't enlighten her, instead standing up with a yawn. "I'm going to get myself a coffee or else I'll never make it through the day. Would you like one?"
"Yes please." She watched him depart the room with a frown of concern on her face.