Okay, so maybe the whimpering little kid upstairs hadn’t been the best pick for something to focus on. But it was such a hard sound to ignore, especially when it fit so well with the deep-down ache in his soul.
God, I was so sure this was Your plan. Did I totally miss it? What on earth are You doing here?
“Brady?”
Rachelle again. Somehow he’d zoned in on the kid’s misery so hard that he’d missed the footsteps right beside him. This was beyond freaky.
Brady rubbed his eyes against his arm the best he could without being obvious as he turned back toward her, hoping that she wouldn’t notice whatever traces of tears he’d missed. She held out a cup full of a thick, purplish substance that looked like some kind of milkshake-slushie hybrid had sat down in a bucket of blueberries.
“What’s that supposed to be?” He eyed the concoction warily, but Rachelle only smiled.
“DeAndre’s finest. He’s our nutritionist and about the best in the world at making what’s good for you taste like something you actually want to eat. Drink up.”
She held the cup out and waited until he had a firm hold before letting it go, then loosed her curls from the messy knot that she must have thrown them into sometime after he’d first woken up. Brady lifted the straw to his lips and took a cautious sip, then nearly inhaled the thick liquid as a barrage of flavors flooded his mouth. Rachelle gently rubbed his back as he coughed and choked.
“How—” Brady tried hard to keep tears of frustration from his voice as he finally got his throat clear. “How can I taste every single ingredient in that shake, even though I can’t name half of them?”
“Try again.” Rachelle offered the cup she’d somehow rescued when he dropped it. “See if you can’t back off from all the different flavors a little. Get more of the bigger picture.”
“You have any clue how I’m supposed to do that?”
“The same way you’re looking at me and not through me right now. The same way you’re not drowning out my voice with everything else around us.”
And how was he doing that exactly? It wasn’t entirely on purpose. Something about her presence just seemed to anchor him in reality, or at least what used to be his reality. Could he somehow bring that same control to whatever bizarre side effect had set fire to his tastebuds?
“Try it, please, Brady.” Rachelle was still holding out the cup, her chocolate eyes warm and pleading. “You’ve had a rough day already, and it’s not even half over. This will help, truly.”
Brady let out a shaky breath as he surveyed the flavor-saturated slush.
“If I drink it, will you please explain what’s happening in words that don’t need a medical dictionary?”
“I’ll do my best.” Rachelle smiled as she handed the drink back and waited for him to take another sip.
Brady closed his eyes and forced himself to concentrate, to make the scattered sensations blend together. After a few tries, they finally melded into a sweet, cold, creamy puree, much more bearable than the exploding kaleidoscope of tastes from his first encounter.
“Better?” Rachelle asked, and Brady grimaced a little as he swallowed the mouthful.
“More normal. Still not the biggest fan of blueberry.”
“Mmm, fight DeAndre on that. They’re his favorite superfood.” Rachelle motioned for him to keep drinking, then settled back against the wall. “Dr. Mattox will have a full draft of an academic paper in a day or two, but here’s what I think happened. Your migraines are neurological, right? Some sort of misfiring between your brain and your nerves?”
“Something like that, I guess.” The doctors had never been explicit, but Eden had done tons of research online, although it all still got scrambled in his brain.
“So if the compound’s acting the same way it has before, then it went to work on those pathways, but instead of stopping at normal, it’s gone incredibly aggressive and bumped all your senses up to an extreme level. You said it’s your hearing, your taste, your sight, your touch. Probably smell too, if you stopped to think about it.”
“Oh, please, I’d rather not.” Brady took a long sip of the shake, praying hard that her suggestion wouldn’t open that specific floodgate.
“I don’t blame you. Concentrate on this, right here, right now. You’re doing an amazing job of controlling it.”
“Controlling it.” Brady blew out a shaky breath and shook his head. “Since when were my senses something I had to control? Or could control at all? If I ever wanted something like that, it was to turn them down, not up.”
“I totally understand.” Rachelle gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “This wasn’t exactly what any of us would have chosen, and it’s certainly not what Dr. Mattox meant to happen. She’s still convinced she’s going to find the key someday. Maybe she will. I don’t know.”
“And she couldn’t slap on a warning label in the meantime?”
“Oh, she did.” Rachelle huffed a brittle little laugh. “Somewhere buried in all those releases you had to sign is a warning that the possible side effects include ‘superoptimal biophysical capacities.’”
“Super-what?” Brady buried his head in his knees with a groan. “How am I supposed to get anything out of that? Can’t she speak plain English? I was prepared for weird side effects, but not—”
The unfinished thought hung in the air between them for a long second before Rachelle finished it quietly.
“Superpowers?”
“Did you have to say that?”
“It’s the closest I can get in plain English.”
“Eden is so going to kill me.” Brady clutched his legs tighter as his body began to tremble, and Rachelle reached over to rub his shoulders for what felt like the tenth time that day.
“Eden is your sister?”
Brady nodded.
“Was it her idea for you to come here?”
“No. She hated it. She’d take me back in a second if I went home, but I can’t do that to her.”
“Because of her boyfriend?”
“No.” Brady shook his head with a groan. “I know the doctor doesn’t get it, but it’s not Josh. He’s a great guy. It’s—they’re both called to missions, and they know it, but they’re stuck on me. I can’t be what keeps them back. I can’t. Not if I have any other choice.”
“Are you a Christian, Brady?” The question was a whisper, but every word rang crystal clear in his head.
“Yes. And I was sure God was leading me here, but—” His words choked off. Let her mock his faith if she had to, but there was no use laying out his own questions as ammunition.
“Maybe He is.”
Brady slowly lifted his head to meet Rachelle’s eyes and found a spark there that he hadn’t seen before. Something like recognition? Reverence? Hope? But before he could fully process it, she nodded to the half-full cup at his side.
“Finish that up. Then I want to show you the den.”
It's so satisfying to read a character fear that he's about to be attacked for his faith, and then he's encouraged. <3 This is great!
I love this!