“You’ve probably got a brain tumor,” Colin said cheerfully. I gaped at him, then laughed silently, shoulders shaking.

“Thank you. Thanks, Colin, that makes me feel a lot better.”Please, I asked the snake.Give him the strength and protection he needs. Thank you. I’ll do my best to honor you. I smiled, partly for the snake and partly for Colin.I’ll heed my teacher.

My vision popped black again, and I fumbled my way out of the hospital, hoping I’d make it to work on time.

I clocked in no more than two minutes late. The precinct building lights snapped to inverse colors every time I opened a door, and I tripped over backwardly shadowed stairs and my own feet three times trying to get to the front door. Getting outside into the heat and morning sunlight was almost a relief. At least it was consistent, even if every breath I dragged in tasted of overheated street tar and dust.

At lunch I radioed Bruce at the front desk and asked him to punch me out so I’d have more time to go visit Gary. He told me that was illegal and did it anyway.

I felt a little silly pulling into the hospital parking lot in the patrol car, as if there ought to be a dire emergency that justified the black and white. A couple of visitors gave me curious looks as I strode through the parking lot, suddenly in a hurry to see the old man.

He was in PT when I got there. A critical nurse examined me from head to toe before asking, “Are you his daughter?”

Out of the various questions I’d expected upon showing up in uniform, that wasn’t one of them. I tried counting on my fingers how old Gary’d have been when he fathered me if I were his daughter and came up with a reasonable number as an answer. “Yes. I’m also on lunch break, so do you think I could maybe see him, please?”

“Well.” The nurse tapped lacquered nails against the desk, examining me again. “I suppose. But if the therapist says no, you’ll have to go immediately, miss.”

For the first time in my life I had to swallow the urge to correct her with “Officer.” It took a couple of seconds, and then I put on a cheery smile and said, “Sure, of course.”

Her expression said I wasn’t fooling anyone. “Second floor.”

“Thank you.” I got out of there at a brisk pace, uncertain how long my bout of transparent politeness was going to last.

The PT room had half a dozen patients in it. None of them looked particularly patient, least of all Gary, who bore the expression of a constipated rhino as he trod a treadmill. A cute blond woman sat in a chair beside the treadmill, saying, “Two minutes,” in a voice that wasn’t so much encouraging as it was uncompromising. She gave me a gimlet stare and I pointed to a chair near hers, eyes wide in a question. She pursed her lips, eyed her watch, and nodded once, sharply. I scurried past Gary to the chair, giving him a broad wink that I was pretty sure the PT couldn’t see. He cracked a slow grin that brightened him up all over, and picked up his pace a bit.

He looked better. Much better, like the vitality I was used to seeing in him had been replenished wholesale and the only reason he was there was because they wouldn’t let him go home yet. A little bubble of joy lit up inside me. I hadn’t been able to properly fix his heart, but maybe the energy I’d lent him had done some good. Even with my vision flipping inside-out, he looked better. I sat there grinning stupidly until the therapist said, “Cool down,” and slowed the treadmill. After another minute, she glanced from her watch to me to Gary. “Five minutes. Drink water.” Then she got up and left, leaving me grinning after her.

“Does she ever use sentences of more than two words?” I got up to get Gary a cup of water while he plunked down in the chair next to the one I abandoned.

“Pretty much no,” he said. I came back with the water and he enveloped me in a bear hug. I hung on and tried not to spill water, either from the cup or from my eyes. I was getting to be a real soft touch in my old age.

“You look better,” I mumbled against his shoulder. He shoved me back into my chair, sort of like I was a big dog, and ruffled my hair, undoing the complete lack of styling I’d spent so much time at this morning.

“Feelin’ better,” he announced. “’Cept the food’s terrible, and nobody’ll sneak me in a Big Mac.” He eyed me hopefully. I grinned through embarrassingly bright eyes.

“Like hell. Here, have some water instead.”

Gary snorted but took the cup and drank greedily. “So what’m I missin’, Jo? Didja bring me back a bear? This place is worse than a crypt for gettin’ news in.”

We both looked around, and after a couple of seconds, he said, “Mebbe not that bad. So, a bear?” He looked as enthusiastic as a kid at Christmas, gray eyes bright and eyebrows bushing eagerly. I thought of the tortoise, tucked somewhere safe behind my eyes, and laughed.

“No, but it wasn’t for lack of trying on the bear’s part.” I realized, once more to my embarrassment, that I had no idea how to transfer the more subtle tortoise to Gary. Colin’s snake had just crawled off me, but this was entirely different. “Think your PT would object to a couple minutes’ meditation?”

“No,” she said from behind me. I jolted and twisted around, trying to arrange my face into a “sure, I knew you were there” expression. “I’d approve,” she said. “Meditation’s healing. Releases stress. Go ahead.” It was like listening to a very determined and very precise woodpecker. I was so busy counting the number of words it took me several seconds to realize she’d given permission. Then I straightened up, beaming at her.

“Thanks! Except I don’t have a drum,” I said.

“You could sing for me,” Gary suggested, grinning. “Think you said you don’t scare the neighbors.” I laughed.

“Just close your eyes and stop being a pain.” Actually, I wanted him to continue being a pain for another fifteen or twenty years. He closed his eyes, still grinning. I folded one leg under me and took his hands, letting my own eyes close.

“Concentrate on your breathing,” the PT said, her voice soft and soothing and completely unexpected. My eyes flew open, vision flattening, going negative, and reversing itself back to normal. God, I was getting to hate that. Gary ’d opened his eyes, too, and we both blinked at the PT, whose eyebrows rose slightly. “No drum,” she said with a shrug. “Listen to me instead.”

“Right.” I smiled at her, trying not to look as startled as I felt, and Gary cleared his throat in the best gruff manner available. We closed our eyes again, and concentrated on our breathing. “I’m going to guide you,” I said, barely audible beneath the PT’s calm voice. “I want to bring you to a place of healing, where the transfer will do the most good.” I was working on instinct, my body feeling heavier and heavier with every breath. “Imagine sinking through—”

I plunged through my tailbone and went on a greased slide through about a zillion layers of earth. The ground came up and caught me with a muffled crash, and I found myself staring upward, looking for the hole in the sky I felt like I’d fallen through.

There was no sky, only thick, healthy tangled trees arching over my head. I closed my fingers on the earth, prickles tickling my palms, and looked around to discover I was sitting in a cushioning heap of moss. I was stuck a good eight inches into it, my knees pointed awkwardly at the trees above. I pushed up for a fruitless moment, trying to get unstuck. Somewhere in the wriggling, I took a deep breath, and forgot all about trying to get free.

This place smelled alive and rich. Clean air and a little bit of wind, carrying the scent of green all the way into my bones. It had rained nearby, close enough for coolness to still be in the air, although my moss hump was dry. The slight chill settled into my skin, making me remember the ache of bone-deep sunburn. That ache was gone for the moment, and hairs on my arms stood up in appreciation of the mild temperature.