Leana Garrison loved the feel of the wind as it blew through her hair, making it dance like puppet on a string, and the feel of the sun on her face as she drove. Convertibles were the only way to travel, she thought to herself. She headed for the off ramp, slowing her small sports car gently and coming to a stop at the intersection.

"Johnson-10 miles", the sign read.

Maple tree lined main street, old brick firehouse, and a small square in the center of town; it could have been a sight right out of Mayberry RFD, Leana thought to herself. What a far cry from the hustle and bustle that she'd come to love so much while doing her residency. She pulled into a small gas station, asking the young attendant for directions to her destination; Brycecliff Road. Following the grease covered gas station kid's directions, she soon found herself heading down a picturesque, and winding two lane road. Watching carefully to spot the numbers of the mailboxes that occasionally dotted the roadside, she finally came across the one she'd been looking for: 243 Brycecliff. There was no house to see, just a small dirt road that led down the small hill, and it piqued her interest. Pulling slowly into the drive, she found herself rounding a blind corner which, as she passed the trees around the bend, opened to a large hay field. And sitting down at the bottom of the small valley was a stone house, looking more like a fairy tale cottage than any home she'd expected to see; it was beautiful; Old stone quarried walls broken only by the white painted window frames, a small barn off to the side of the house, it's steep tin roof sparkling in the sunlight.

The small driveway stones crackled beneath the tires as she pulled up to the house, unable to see any one around and no sign of any automobiles. Turning the car off, the serene quite of the place caught her attention, save for the sound of the occasional katydid sirening out it's song from the field. The air was still, the lack of any breeze accentuating the mid morning's sun, and Leana could sense already that it was going to be a hot day. She reached down into the car, grabbing her bookbag from the front seat and walked toward the front door. The house was truly charming; an old colonial style stone structure, with the classic tall thin windows of the style lining the front. Taking a step up onto the small porch, Leana saw no doorbell, but instead, a large door knocker hanging on the small, white painted door. She stood patiently after giving a few hefty knocks, thinking to herself that no one could miss the distinctive sound it made.

It was after a few minutes waiting, hearing only the sounds from the field behind her, that she began to think no one was home turned and leave. It was a long shot, showing up like this unannounced and on a Saturday morning, but at least she had tried.

But just as she turned to go, she heard the sounds of the door's lock click, opened from the inside. When she turned back to the door, inside was stand a small old woman, peering through the half opened door.

"Oh, Good morning." Leana said, but the woman didn't reply, merely standing with a look of cautious bewilderment.

"I... ummm... I was looking for the Gates residence...?" Leana stammered out, feeling strangely out of place from the woman's icy reception.

"Yes?" The old woman replied hesitantly.

"Umm..." Leana stumbled again, fishing out her notepad from her bookbag, "... actually, I'm looking for a Michael Gates?"

The old woman in the doorway's expression chilled and Leana noticed the door close slightly. "Who are you?" The woman spoke with a distrustful tone.

"Oh, yes... I'm sorry. My name is Leana, Leana Garrison. I'm from the University Medical Center, where Michael was seen last year." Leana apologized, embarrassed in forgetting her manners.

"Are you... Michael's mother?" Leana asked, feeling the chill of the woman's glare.

"What do you want?" The woman snapped tersely, closing the door even further.

"Well..." Leana was shocked by the strong sense of hostility of the woman, but pressed on, "I'm following up on patients that have experienced accidents such as Michael was admitted for. You see, I'm finishing up my residency at the University and working on a research paper to study some of the long term side effects of lightning strike patients, and I was hoping..."

Leana was cut short in her efforts by the woman, "Michael's not here!"

"Oh..." Leana answered in surprise. "I see, well if I could talk to his mother or father? It would only take just a minute of their time...?"

"There's nothing wrong with Michael!" The woman snapped harshly, shocking Leana once more.

"Please, if I could just..." Leana tried to explain, but was stifled once again by the woman.

"I said, there's nothing wrong with him. Now, go away!" The woman barked, then slammed the door shut tightly.

"Please... I'm sorry, I ..." Leana tried, only to realize it was futile, as she heard the door's deadbolt snapping closed.

She stood in front of the door for a moment, still in a state of shock from the bizarre scene, before turning once again to leave. Leana walked quickly back along the small path to her car and tossed her bag into the passenger's seat. Shuffling quickly around the car and climbing in, shaken by what had happened, Leana nervously searched her purse for her keys, and in finding them realized that her hands were literally shaking as she tried to insert the key to start the car. Finally firing the engine with an overanxious stab at the throttle, Leana whipped the car backward to turn around and leave.

But it was just as she began to pull back down the drive, she gave a quick glance back to the house. And just as quickly, she noticed in the corner of her eye a small face peering from one of the upstairs windows. Too flustered from the old woman's harsh treatment of her to stop, Leana continued on. She raced up the long gravel covered road, up the hill and around the bend, only to have to slam on her brakes to avoid shooting out and across the street at the drive's end. She sat in her car, her heart still pounding strongly from the alarm, and tried to gather her composure.

"It doesn't matter. It's not any of my business." She tried to convince herself.

"It's not my business."

But sitting there at the roads edge, feeling her heart pounding, she couldn't get out of her mind the site of that young looking face in the window.

Michael.

"It had to be... had to be."

But even if it was, it was not her place to insist, whatever the reason for the woman's strange behavior. Waiting a moment more, and taking a deep breath to relax, Leana slowly pulled out of the drive back onto the road and headed back into town; back on her way home, back on her original plan to rest, relax and to finish her paper. But not before she had stuffed her small questionnaire into an envelope and into the Gates mailbox. At least, she reasoned, she had tried.

Chapter Two

5 Years Later...

 

"Sally, do you have those numbers?" Leana called out from her desk, her fingers still typing furiously at her laptop computer.

"They should be sitting on your desk, right on top of your charts." She heard from her opened office door.

And sure enough, sitting right in front of her were the papers she'd been waiting for.

"Damn!" Leana cursed herself.

Grabbing the papers, she scanned down the page, pulling out the numbers she'd been hoping to add to her presentation and popped them into her program.

"Done!" She announced triumphantly. And none too soon, only five minutes until the start of the conference. Quickly, Leana yanked the cables out of the laptop and stuffed it into her bag, and headed for the door.

"Thank you, Sally! Don't know what I'd do without you!" She said with a smile, hustling past her secretary and heading down the hall. This wouldn't be the first lecture she'd given at the weekly Friday meeting, but she hated to be unprepared, and hated worse to be late.

It had been only two years since she was hired as a faculty member at the University Medical Center where she'd done her residency, and aside from the one year away doing a fellowship and another two working in a private practice, it felt as if she'd never left. This was where she wanted to be; the hectic pace of a busy academic medical center. It gave her the chance to do the one thing she felt as if she was really good at; being a student. The money of the private practice had been good, but she felt as thought the work had been... quite frankly, boring. Seeing the same old patients, with the same old common ailments, write a script and go home. Here she felt in her element, always something new and different; this is where the hard luck cases came, and she enjoyed the challenge. It didn't matter to her that she had no personal life, spending nearly eighty hours a week at the hospital, this was what she wanted to be doing.

"Interesting ideas, Leana. I think I have a patient you may want to take a look at this afternoon." It was Dr. Frank Thompson who'd caught Leana in the hallway after she'd finished her presentation.

"Thank you, Frank. What'ya got?" Leana asked. Getting a compliment from Frank Thompson was an honor, as he was well respected in his field, along with being one of Leana's supervisory faculty members in her residency days.

"65 year old Latin male that suffers from an interesting sleep disorder. Says he's been awake for 2 years straight, but his wife insists he goes about three days, then passes out but never remembers being out. We did an MRI and CAT scan on him and the results are ... well, curious to say the least." Dr. Thompson described, showing a glimmer of amusement in his slight smile.

"Sure, I'd love to. I have a few lined up in the clinic, when is he going to be here?" Leana asked.

"Oh, he'll be here all night, he's being admitted." Frank said with an even wider smile. "Oh, that reminds me, I have something else for you. Feel free to stop by my office, ...whenever." Dr. Thompson said, as he stepped into the awaiting elevator door.

"Sure." Leana said with a curious smile, wondering what Frank found so amusing. He'd always had a strange sense of humor, but by the same token, had proved himself to be a very bright surgeon and educator.

Leana's clinic passed quickly, mostly routine follow-ups. It worked best to see them before the weekends, as well as the light clinic giving her a chance to catch up on paperwork. It was nearly four o'clock, as she sat at her desk looking over some papers, when she heard Sally collecting her things. Sally Jenkins had worked at the University for over thirty years as a physician's secretary and Leana was damned lucky to have her, Sally was the best of the pool. The silver haired woman stepped into Leana's doorway, with her purse and jacket in hand, and stood silent for a moment.

"Anything special this weekend?" Leana asked.

"My grandchildren are coming to visit." She replied, but with an almost sad look on her face.

"Is everything alright, Sally?" Leana asked with genuine concern.

"It's not me, it's you I'm worried about." Sally replied in a motherly tone.

"Me? What do you mean?" Leana asked, but already knew the answer.

"Leana, I've been around long enough to see when a young doctor, such as yourself, is headed down the path to burnout." Sally said with conviction.

"Burnout !?!" Leana answered, trying her best to look surprised.

"I know it's none of my business, but... a pretty young girl like yourself shouldn't hide herself away behind her work so much." It was obvious that Sally had said her peace, knowing that her words were likely falling on deaf ears, but feeling as though they had to be said none the less.

Leana just smiled at her, then softly answered, " Have a nice weekend, Sally." Sally returned her smile and said, "You too, dear. Now don't end up hanging around this place all weekend, okay?"

"Okay." Leana replied, chuckling sarcastically as Sally turned to go.

The conversation had become almost routine; Sally playing the part of the concerned mother trying to find a husband for her wall flower child, and Leana the part of the stubborn daughter refusing to admit that she was right. It was always done with sincerity and Leana appreciated Sally's concern. But the truth was that Leana never considered herself the 'social' type, preferring to spend her time buried in her work instead of socializing. But it did leave a rather large gap in her personal life, her sex life to be exact, and although not a virgin, she was what you might consider a novice when it came to such things. And the surprising fact of the matter is that by looking at her, one would never have guessed it; young looking for her age, a shapely figure that would draw notice, even though hidden under the myriad of pens, pencils, papers and Doctors coat she wore almost around the clock.

But now was not the time to dwell on Sally's words, Leana thought to herself. She wanted to take a walk over to Dr. Thompson's office and see the patient he'd mentioned to her earlier. Closing the patient file folders and neatly stacking them in a pile next to the other ten or so stacks of files that lined her office floor, Leana headed out for Dr. Thompson's office. The halls of the clinic were slowly clearing out as the day wound down, most people heading home for the weekend, and Leana rounded the corner and walked slowly past the row of emptied desks toward Frank's office. A light rap of the door brought Frank's invitation to come in, and Leana found Frank studying the numerous MRI scans that hung from the lightbox on the wall.

"Take a look at the last one." Frank quipped to Leana, his attention still fixed on the scan he was studying. Leana strolled down to the end of the lightbox and began to scan through the dozen or so images, immediately noticing something very peculiar.

"This is your sleepless patient?" Leana asked.

"Yup." Frank replied, turning to observe her expression.

"And this isn't some kind of prank?" She asked again, with a distrustful smile.

"I'm good, but not that good. Take a look at the various angles, it's real all right." Frank laughed, with his own smile of disbelief.

Her eyes flicked from image to image, noticing the subtle variations of the angles of view, the telltale data for the imaging system databank, and came to realize that it was indeed real.

Sitting deep inside of the man's cranium was... a paperclip.

Leana looked at Dr. Thompson wide eyed, and he laughed at her reaction.

"Yup." He laughed knowingly, sharing his own amazement with her.

"And...?" Leana asked sarcasticallyy, waiting for Dr. Thompson to fill in the details that he had obviously withheld.

"Well, I don't really know. He is... was... a merchant marine by trade and apparently had an operation over ten years ago, stemming from an accident. Somewhere in Africa... he's kinda sketchy on the details, but does remember being in a hospital for some time there. But apparently after he healed enough to be discharged, he never suffered any more problems and never bothered to have anyone here look at him. That was until about 2 years ago when the sleeplessness began." Frank Thompson went on. " Too bizarre... it's a miracle that he's still alive."

"You're gonna go in for it?" Leana asked curiously, staring again intently at the scans in amazement.

"Yup."

"He's gonna lose a lot..." She mumbled to herself, analyzing the damage that had already begun, and the precarious position of the object.

"Well, he won't last much longer if we don't try." Frank said. Leana noticed the slight inflection he'd put on the word 'we', and turned to look at Frank.

"Interested?" Frank asked with a smile.

"Sure, I'd love to. What would you like?" Leana replied.

"Well, I thought maybe you'd like to try those ideas on the modeling you were talking about this morning. I can't think of a better case than this one."

"Definitely." She replied, studying the scan once again. "I can get started this weekend."

"One problem, the patient hasn't consented to treatment yet."

"You're kidding?" Leana said in surprise.

"He'll come around. I'm trying to get him to come back in next week. He's insistent that he have some time to think about it." Frank mentioned, then was interrupted by the chirping of his beeper.

"I'm sorry, I've got to take care of this. Listen, I'll let you know as soon as I get the okay to start work on him." Frank said while grabbing some things from his desk, and lifting his coat from the back of his chair.

"Oh, by the way, this is for you." He said, handing Leana a letter from his desk. "Do me a favor, lock up the office when you're through?"

"Sure." Leana replied. "Oh, and Frank...?" She stopped him as he headed out the door, " ...Thank you."

Leana knew that Frank Thompson was one of the reasons she'd landed her appointment at the University. He'd lobbied hard to get her the spot and she appreciated what he'd done for her.

"Anytime." Frank replied.

Leana stood looking at the scans for a while, contemplating a course of action of testing out her ideas on modeling the procedure. She'd been working on the idea of combining both a three dimensional MRI model along with a three dimensional Angiographic model to provide a more accurate analysis of the surgical strategy in cases such as this, using multiple angioplasty to restrict blood flow and lessen the chances of major blood loss. It was a risky procedure, but in these cases there were few alternatives. It would be nearly 8:00pm before Leana left Dr. Thompson's office, turning off the lights and locking the door as she left.

Chapter Three

As Leana walked down the empty hallway back to her office, she pulled the letter that Frank had given her from her lab coat pocket. It struck her as a rather odd looking letter, appearing worn and somewhat crumpled, as if it had seen the inside of several letter carriers hands before reaching it's destination. And as Leana looked closer, she began to realize why; the hand written address had been penned to an address that she hadn't seen or used for some time. It had been addressed to a mailbox she'd used when she was a resident at the University some four years ago. She opened the letter with curiosity to realize it was a form questionnaire that she'd used when doing work on her residency thesis.

"Wow!" She whispered to herself as she walked, amazed to see the paper and figuring out in her mind how long it had been since she'd received one of the forms. It had been a brief questionnaire directed towards patients that had suffered from lightning strike accidents. While doing her residency, she'd worked on physiological changes in patients who'd been struck, trying to possibly associate some of the interesting side effects they suffered with physical changes to their bodies. Common among the patients were mysterious pains, both internal and external, that couldn't be explained but also in some cases there were some rather odd symptoms; loss of taste, loss of sensitivity to certain things like hot or cold, even a few cases of highly altered sleep patterns.

Sitting at her desk, Leana scanned down the document, reviewing the responses to the questions but not finding anything unusual until the very last. The questions had covered most of the commonly reported symptoms to which all had been marked as negative, but the final question had been designed to give the questionnaire a space to add additional information concerning symptoms not included in the survey. Leana found single word penciled in; OTHER.

It was very intriguing, but also mysterious as the cover page of the questionnaire was missing, leaving no information as to whom it had come from. "Other"... the word began to peck at her curiosity as she looked through the survey one more time, looking to see if she'd missed anything. Leana flipped over the tattered envelope to see if there was perhaps a return address on the back but found nothing. She read through the questionnaire one more time and again found nothing, other than the tantalizing word at the bottom of the page. She looked back to the mystery envelope when she noticed the postmark. It appeared as thought the letter had gotten wet, leaving the stamp only partially legible, with only the zip code remaining. She didn't recognize the number but with her curiosity up, Leana flipped on the power switch of her laptop and waited for her browser to load. She gazed back down at the envelope, enjoying the fun of solving the little mystery, like it was a game, and as the browser loaded she ran a search on one of the map finder sites to locate the zip code. She waited with anticipation as the page began to load, slowly revealing a map of Beaumont County. With another click of the map, it zoomed in further, revealing the small county seat of Clarey. It was then that Leana noticed a small town about 15 miles to the west; Johnson.

"Johnson..." the name sounded so familiar, and then it hit her; Johnson was the name of the town where she'd stopped on her way to her parent's place to see the boy... "God! What was his name!" She thought to herself. "The boy in the window... and the paranoid old woman!" Her heart began to beat a little harder at her realization, as well as the remembrance of how cold the woman had treated her... and of the small face in the window.