The Muse that Soothes the Savage Beast

Several hours later, Kady stirs from her sleep in the school’s infirmary. She faintly hears the monitors beeping behind her as her eyes slowly open. After a few blinks, her eyes follow the tubing from a vein in her arm to a near empty packet of blood and a bag of saline hanging on the IV pole next to her bed.

Hearing a soft moan coming from the bed, Hank stands up from the desk at the other side of the room and walks over to Kady. He checks over the monitors and IV bags as he speaks calmly, “It’s good to see that you’re finally conscious, Ms. O’Halloran.” Kady winces as she tries to prop herself up with the arm attached to the IV tubes. Seeing her painful effort, he turns to ease her up to a sitting position with pillows behind her back. “Is that more to your liking, Ms. O’Halloran?” Her eyes close as she nods weakly. “Excellent,” he replies as he heads back over to his desk to retrieve a rolling cart with various medical instruments on it, then rolls it beside her bed.

After clearing her throat, Kady asks softly, “Um, doctor, I don’t mean to sound discourteous, but where exactly am I?”

Hank looks to her, eyes widened. “Oh, my stars and garters! How could I have failed to remember my manners?” He places the blood pressure cuff that he had in his hands back on the cart before he continues. “I am Dr. Henry McCoy, and you are currently in the infirmary at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.”

One corner of her mouth curls upwards slightly as her own eyes widen. “Xavier? As in Charles Xavier, the leader and activist for mutants’ rights?”

“You know of his work?”

She nods, a kind smile on her face, as she responds with a bit more energy, “I do, and I greatly admire his efforts.”

“You do?”

“Absolutely. There are mutants out there that are not a danger to society, and they want to live their lives normally, but because of the stigma placed on them by certain public figures and the mutants who ARE a threat, they are considered evil and dangerous, when that is not so.” Her face flushes a bit as she clears her throat again and says, “Anyway, I thank ya so much for takin’ care of me, and um, do ya have any idea of how I got here?”

His forehead wrinkles in confusion. “You don’t know how you got here?” She shakes her head. “Well, all I can tell you, miss, is that a group of students here found you on the grounds, unconscious, and you were convulsing and…”

She lowers her head, then looks up to him with an expression of embarrassment on her face as she finishes for him, “Bleedin’ from my back?” He stops and stares at her with a quarked brow as she goes on to explain with a brief chuckle, “That happens sometimes when I don’t get my treatment in a while. Ya see, I am, to say the least, anemic. If I don’t go to the doc’s for a transfusion, then I can pass out. As for the bleedin’ back, that is something that ya would hardly believe, because I hardly understand it myself.”

“With all the things that I have seen as a doctor and as someone who works with Professor Xavier, there is scarcely anything that would disconcert me, Ms. O’Halloran.”

“Alright then; if ya say so. There are times when I have these… episodes that I have flashbacks of my past. When my back is bleedin’, my mind goes back to the time I was attacked by an animal, and it scratched my back all up, and my body reacts as it if were happenin’ again: screamin’ and writhing in pain, bleedin’ back. Once I get a transfusion, the bleedin’ stops and I heal up quite nicely.”

Hank nods. “When I tested a bit of your blood earlier, I did see a type of anemia, so I thought that a transfusion would be advantageous to your health. As for the saline, I found small traces of trichloromethane and ethoxyethane, that is chloroform and ether, that were probably used in a form of knockout gas; although, there were substantial amounts of sodium thiopental that had me more concerned. You seem close to fully recovered from the effects of the drugs, but I would like to check you over once more before I release you, if you don’t object, Ms. O’Halloran.”

“No, I don’t mind, Dr. McCoy. The only thing I object to is that ya keep callin’ me ‘Ms. O’Halloran’. There is no need to be formal with me. Just call me ‘Kady’.”

“As you wish, Kady,” he replies. Hank then turns from her to look over the monitors by the bed to watch them for a moment before he detaches the wires connecting her to the machines, leaving the nodes on her chest for her to remove herself. “Would you please lean forward a bit, Kady, so I can remove the dressings on your back?” She complies to his request, and he unties the back of her gown then slowly begins to peel the tape holding bandage on. “Just tell me if I hurt you.” Kady nods as he continues to remove the bandage, careful not to hurt her too much.

Once the gauze is pulled away, Hank reaches up to feel the skin of her back: completely healed with nothing but some scarring and a bit of dried blood. “Phenomenal,” he whispers to himself as he takes a moist cloth from the cart and wipes her back down. “Do you normally heal at this rate?” he asks as he brings the stethoscope to his ears.

“Like I said, once I get a transfusion, I heal up just fine.”

“I see; what a remarkable gift you have, Kady.” He brings the stethoscope up to her back and says, “Now, take a couple of deep breaths for me.” He listens closely as she breathes, moving the chestpiece around her back to make sure there is no congestion or other audible damage to her lungs. “It sounds like there was no permanent harm to your lungs due to the gas.” Hank moves to her front as he hesitates a bit. “Would you, um, lower the front of your gown for me, please? Just enough so I can listen to your heart.”

A slight smile comes to Kady’s face because of his modesty, but she nods and lowers the front of her gown so he can bring the chestpiece up. He closes his eyes as he listens attentively, leaning a bit closer to her now, causing Kady to turn her head to the side. “Very good,” he says as he straightens up, turning to get the blood pressure cuff from the tray as she pulls up the front of her gown again. Staying silent, he wraps the cuff around her arm, places the chestpiece in the crook of her arm, and measures her blood pressure. “Also very good,” he says as he takes off the stethoscope and drapes it over his neck, rolls the cart over to the wall, and carries a clipboard and a pen, scribbling some things down on the paper as he returns to her side. He raises a hand to her forehead then affirms, “No fever,” and jots that down onto the paper on his clipboard.

Hank then sits in the chair next to the bed and asks, looking to her with a friendly smile, “Now, what is the last thing you recall before up awakened here?”

Kady’ forehead rumples in thought then adjusts herself in the bed and clears her throat again before responding, “Well, after the play was over, I went to see my two male co-stars, Patrick and Joel, to wish them a final farewell and good fortune since we had our finale party earlier that night. Once I had seen them, I put on my normal clothes and headed out the back of the theater towards my motorbike to go home. Then a… big cloud of white mist suddenly blasted in my face. At first, I thought it was steam from the manhole in the street, but when I breathed in, my throat and lungs burned and I felt dizzy. Everything went black after that. There were a few times that I saw a few dark, blurry images or heard some things like I was underwater, but the only real thing I remember next is wakin’ up here. When all this was happenin’, I thought that it as my anemia actin’ up, but I thought I was good until my transfusion this afternoon, right after the play was over, so I am only a few hours late right now.”

Hank stops writing and lowers the clipboard to tell her, “Kady, tonight is the third night after the play, not the first night.”

“Japers…” Her eyes suddenly go wide, and her accent is more pronounced and panicked as she continues to rant: “Shite, I’m really screwed now… Stephen is goin’ to be so cheesed off. I was supposed to start back at the pub that he owns once the play was over. Now, it’s three days later, and I haven’t showed up or even called. He’s bound to be narky, that’s for sure.” She continues mumbling as she flings the covers off of her and starts to get out of the bed.

Hank quickly stands, places the clipboard on the foot of the bed, and moves in front of Kady, gingerly taking her hands in his. “Slow down and compose yourself, Kady. It wouldn’t faciliate the situation to be in a frantic haste right now. Take one thing at a time.” He has a tender smile on his face as he speaks in a jovial tone, “If you’re already three days late, what is another hour or two to make sure things are done correctly?” He clears his throat before continuing: “First, let me withdraw the IV’s from your arm, then you can dress yourself and leave.” Kady takes a deep breath as she holds out her arm to Hank, then once the tubes are removed, Hank tells her, “You’re belongings are places in the drawer on the other side of the bed. Is there anything else that you require before you depart?”

Kady gets out on the opposite side of the bed to retrieve her clothes then answers, “May I have a bit of water? I’ve got a throat on me.”

“Certainly,” he answers back as he turns from her so she can dress in privacy.

While Hank is getting her water, Kady holds up a pink and black striped t-shirt with an electric guitar on it. “Not sayin’ that I dislike this, but why is this shirt with my clothes?”

He chuckles while he comes back to her, averting his eyes from her half-dressed body. “I believe that article of clothing was donated to the infirmary by Ms. Jubilee for others that have need of apparel. Your other shirt was terribly stained, so I thought you would need another shirt that didn’t look like you murdered someone in it.”

After she pulls on the shirt, she holds up her first shirt: washed but still bloody. “Yes, I think it would be rather absurd for me to go around with a blood-spattered shirt on.” She places that shirt on the bed and takes the cup from Hank’s outstretched arm. “Thank ya, Dr. McCoy.”

“Now, if I’m not allowed to call you ‘Ms. O’Halloran’, I’m not going to permit you to call me so formally, either. Please, call me ‘Hank’.” As he is speaking, Kady is gluggling the water down at an astonishing rate.

The glass is empty before Kady responds, “As you wish, Hank. I thank ya profusely for all your trouble, but I really must go now.”

Kady begins to make her way to the door before Hank stops her to ask, “Do you have need of a taxi-cab?”

She looks out the door to see the sun setting through the hall window, and she shakes her head. “No, thank ya, but it seems like it is goin’ to be such a pretty night, and like ya said, if I’m already three days late, what is another hour or two?”

Taking off his glasses, he asks another question: “Let me at least escort you out to the front gate then. The mansion is rather vast, and I’m sure you don’t need to add ‘getting lost’ to your reasons for your absence.”

“I would appreciate that, Hank. Thank ya.”

Hank places his glasses in the front pocket of his labcoat, and the other hand gestures towards the door. “After you, madamoiselle,” he says with a bad, haughty French accent and a lowered head.

Kady raises a hand to her lips, holding back laughter, before replying ith her own, smooth French accent, “Merci beaucoup, monsieur.” She steps out into the hallway, the walls shining orange from the light of the setting sun.

He catches up to her and comments, “It seems to me that you are a young lady of many voices, of which your melodic voice is most superior.”

“I take it that ya enjoyed my performance the other night?”

“I throughly relished it, although it took much persuasion to get me to attend.”

“Ah, I take it you heard the word ‘musical’, and it scared ya?”

“To be perfectly honest, I was fairly skeptical, but I was greatly proven wrong… which hardly ever happens.”

“What was it that changed your opinion?”

“The story was intriguing, the acting was realistic and expressive, and let’s not forget the vocal talents of the actors: especially from a certain young starlet that stole the hearts of the audience.”

“Aw, get on outta that; you’re makin’ me blush now.”

“No, truly. You are a very talented young lady. It is difficult to accept that you had no professional training for your singing.”

“I just have an ear for music… I can pick notes out of music I hear then play them on the piano; as for my singin’, I’ve been doin’ that since I was a child, and the more one practices, the better one gets.”

“I must confess,” he inhales deeply in a pause, “I do not possess that gift. I had the music from the play stuck in my head ever since I left the theater, and many of the people that heard me trying to sing did not extol my attempts at musical advancement.”

“I don’t think I can help ya there, Hank,” she responds with reserved laughter.

The two reach the front door, and he opens the door for her, the setting sun shining brightly in her face making her quickly block the bright light with her hand. Once her eyes adjust, she lowers her hand and continues to walk with Hank out to the front gate. Kady closes her eyes for a brief moment, taking a deep breath. “Can you smell that? The aroma of the approachin’ autumn season.”

Hank looks to her curiously after taking a breath himself. “What does that smell like?”

“It smells like cool, crisp air and a hint of apples. The only other smell I like better is the smell of winter: fraiser firs, burnin' wood, and freshly fallen snow. It must be beautiful with snow blanketin’ the campus.”

“Oh, it is. Although, I prefer the leaves in their bright, warm hues of red, orange, and yellow as to a stark white palette. Blue is harder to conceal when everything is white.”

“Well, I would think that blue would be hard to hide in the warmer colors as well, but it is harder when it is all white. It was rather easy to spot ya in the box seats, though.” They both laugh a bit as they reach the gate.

Hank presses the the buttons on the keypad to open the gate. “Are you sure you don’t need a ride to the pub?”

Kady shakes her head and smiles. “No, thank ya. I have to go by the theater to get my bike, then I’ll be on my way to the pub. It was a pleasure to meet you, Hank,” she says, holding her hand out to him.

His hand gingerly wraps around her hand. “No, Kady,” he brings her hand to his lips and lightly kisses her knuckles. “The pleasure was entirely mine. If you ever need anything, do not hesitate to return for help. That is what we are here for.” He releases her hand to place his glasses back on.

“Thank ya again for everything, Hank. And I leave ya with my favorite Irish blessing:

May the road rise up to meet you,
May the wind always be at your back,
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
May the rains fall soft upon your fields,
And, until we meet again,
May God hold you in the hollow of his hand.”

With that, she smiles and begins to make her way back to the theater.

*Author’s Note*

A second chapter… a lot of work went into this chapter, believe it or not. I did a lot of thesaurus paging and Irish slang browsing to make the characters more real. I hope I have done that. Please review to tell me what kind of job I did: good or bad. If you want to find out what the Irish slang terms I used (Japers, cheesed off, narky, I’ve got a throat on me, get on outta that) mean, look them up on this website I found: http://www.irishslang.co.za . I will be using more slang terms in future chapters, so remember the website!

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Aldys Annabel Clairveux })j({