On the Edge (of a stroke)

I had always known someone was there but had never seen or heard them. So, it was a total surprise when resting on a bench in the park late one autumn afternoon, my vision was jolted. I was watching the wind pluck multi-hued leaves from the trees when I caught of or felt a strong visual disruption. Someone was there. But no matter how hard I tried, I could not bring the apparition into focus. It might have been a 'him', but it could have been a 'she'. The visual disturbance occurred somewhere towards my right-hand side. The implication was that the left hemisphere of my stroke-scrambled brain had processed a vision.

Then the vision made a noise like water tumbling over stones in a mountain brook. It was more like babbling than anything intelligent. I tried to say something, but the words would not form coherently. Two months after hospitalization, I had gained reasonably normal perambulation skills, but conversations, past the odd word or two, still eluded me. My mind never lost clarity. I was just unable to communicate for many weeks. Tricia, my wife of almost 20 years, never gave up on me and was still bullying me into practice periods several times a day after the twice-weekly speech therapy sessions.

“She is still quite beautiful, you know”, said the disembodied voice, coming from roughly where the vision shimmered, on my right-hand side. “Leave Tricia out of this”, I managed to mutter angrily. Who or what was this thing that knew about my private details?

“Sorry,” was the returned rebuff. “Just trying to make conversation.”

“Don't,” I objected. The world in front of me rocked. I had to shake my head to disperse the dizziness. Was this a false vision created by my stroke?

“No,” said the 'thing' aloud in my head. “I'm real enough. You'll have to get used to me ‘cos I'm not going anywhere anytime soon.”

This thing can hear my thoughts, I thought.

“Sure, I can. And a whole lot more. There is not much I cannot do if I put my, or is it your, mind to it.”

“Rubbish,” I said. What in God's name was happening to me? I was beginning to get my life back together. It was slow going at times, but I was getting there with Tricia's help.

“It’s certainly not rubbishe,” he or it said. “I am not a figment of your imagination. It’s just that I can’t prove it to you., not yet. You will benefit from my assistance in various ways as I gain strength.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. The kids were living their own lives on the north side of London and even provided us with three grandchildren, whom we got to see regularly. The short get-togethers were quite magical. Tricia and I had grown even closer together with no one else’s need to consider but our own.

“But I have no intention of interfering with your life. I’ll just share some of it and enhance other parts of it.”

“No!” I objected. “I won’t let you in to ruin what me and Tricia have.”

“I won’t be spoiling anything. I appreciate that this is a lot to take on board in one hit, so I’ll leave you alone for a while.

And the vision died away and with it, the voice.

At last, there was peace, and slowly, the world stopped rocking. Gripping the edge of the wooden bench, I attempted to stand up, but I couldn’t. Had this thing drained my energy? I was a bit of a religious nut when I was young, but I knew what had happened was not a spiritual experience. There was no enlightenment, only a sense of fear of having been invaded.

Slowly the panic subsided, and I was back to enjoying the parkland scenery, the sights and sounds of children at play in the nearby adventure park, and the musical cadence of the nearby fountain. I finger-combed my greying, wavy locks into a semblance of tidiness and couldn’t resist straightening my lily-white moustache with my pocket comb. My hair was beginning to thin at the top of my crown but at almost six feet tall, few people noticed that.

After a half hour or so, with no further interruptions, I rose a little unsteadily to my feet. I was almost OK, but I’d sat for too long. With every added stumbling step, my memory reminded my legs to keep moving, one foot in front of the other. “I can help with that,” it said.

“I can manage on my own, thank you.”

“And do think you’ve been managing on your own all the time you have been out of the hospital?”

“I certainly thought so.”

“ Let’s just put that to the test. Stop fighting me for five minutes and see for yourself.”

I put his words to the test and stopped thinking about what was going on in my head. And within ten or twelve paces, I was walking with hardly a limp. I was home in just under half an hour. Half an hour to cover half a mile! I was reluctant to admit that it wasn’t all down to my efforts.

“Enjoy your walk, dear?” Tricia asked while I fumbled to hang my coat and hat on the hall stand, struggling to come to terms with the revelation.

“It’s a gorgeous day, love,” I responded. “A bit chilly if you sit around too long, but great if you keep moving and I managed to jog for almost thirty-five minutes today.”

“Wow! That’s some improvement on your last run.” She unconsciously tucked behind her ear a strand of chestnut brown hair that had escaped her ponytail band “There’s a cup of tea in the pot if you want.”

“I’ll join you in a moment. I just need to visit the loo to make some room for it. The cold must’ve got to my kidneys.”

“Just a sign of getting older, dear.” Then she added, “It looks like our lives might have changed forever.”

“Don’t be like that,” I said.

“Like what?”

“You said our lives are all but over.”

“No, I didn’t. I said we are both getting older.”

“I was certain you had said our lives are changed forever.”

Tricia looked aghast. Her mouth moved, but no words came out. She looksd quite horrified.

“Are you all right, Trish?”

“Tom,” she said. “I never said anything about our lives changing.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my hearing,” I said, a bit peeved that she should doubt me.

“Tom, I swear on my mother’s grave, I never said those words.”

“But I heard you.”

“Tom, that’s what I thought in my head, but I never spoke those words out loud.”

Now it was my turn to look stunned.

“I tried to tell you,” The inner voice said.

“You never said anything about being able to hear other people's thoughts.”

“Tom, who are you talking to? There’s only me here.”

I recovered my wits.

“I’m so sorry, Trish. My mind is roaming everywhere, and I keep hearing voices.”

“Sounds like you might have overdone it on your walk today. Are you sure you’re, OK?”

“Don’t worry. I’m fine. I’m feeling better with every day that passes. It’s just a case that my mind wanders about a bit. It must be the effect of neurons recovering their ability to function and renewing my brain's connections.”

“That sounds promising, but it still doesn’t explain how you heard what I was thinking.”

“We were probably thinking along the same lines, and our thoughts overlapped momentarily.”

“Possibly. Tom. And you’re suddenly talking much more fluently. That’s a great step forward but still a bit spooky.”

“I’d better get to the loo before I have an accident.”

As I closed the loo door, the voice reappeared. “You must be more careful around Trish unless you want to spill the beans about your newfound skills.”

“I can’t do that. It would be awful to realise that your partner could hear your every thought.”

“And you’ll have her even more worried if you keep talking to me out loud. I hear your every thought. You don’t have to vocalize.”

“I’m not sure I like the idea of that,” I thought.

“You’ll soon get used to it, with a bit more practice.”

I returned to the kitchen to enjoy a drink with my wife.

Trisha was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea in front of her. She had brewed a pot of tea and covered the pot with a multi-coloured knitted cover to keep it hot. My plastic jug with a sipping straw sat on a saucer.

“Go on! You can do it.”

Goaded by the inner voice, I reached into the kitchen cabinet and replaced the plastic jug with my favorite China mug, decorated vividly with a bright blue kingfisher perched on a branch above a stream. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?” Tricia asked warily.

“I’ve got to get back to normality, as soon as possible. Nothing tastes the same sipped through a plastic straw.”

“Let me pour for you,” she offered, reaching for the pot.

“Let me see how this goes,” I responded.

The weight of the teapot in my hand surprised me, and it took quite an effort to hold it steady. I gripped the handle tightly to prevent it from wobbling. I poured confidently and didn’t spill a drop. Tricia raised an eyebrow in mild surprise, and I smiled as I returned the pot to its stand.

I internalized, “You have convinced me. You could be a great asset to my recovery” But when I picked up the milk jug, my nervousness was transmitted to the liquid as concentric ripples on the surface.

“My, my,” Tricia cooed, her blue eyes wide. “Aren’t you improving? Have you been practicing?”

“See. When you trust me, you can do more things?”’

“I’ve only poured a cup of tea.”

“And that’s the first time you’ve done that for months.” Tricia was thrilled with pleasure.

“Just keep believing in me. I told you we are capable of doing great things – together. There are difficult circumstances ahead but together we will overcome whatever fate is about to throw our way”

Chapter 2

It was difficult to restrain my thoughts. The ability to intrude into the mind of the woman I loved was too much and by supper time I was wearing earphones and listening to my collection of pre-war jazz classics. The music reduced the risk of hearing Tricia’s cogitations. I had tried to switch it off earlier but her thoughts, mostly about my increased mobility and stability, had still broken through.

“You’ll get there, and sail past where you were before” came the unbidden voice in my head.

“I’d get there a lot faster if you would leave me in peace for a while,” was my silent response.

The surprise was that it stayed silent until almost eleven o’clock, which had previously been my regular time to turn in.

“My. My.” Tricia raised an eyebrow. “There must be something in the water. You’ve not stayed up this late for an age. You must be feeling better. Or has your music reinvigorated you?’”

“It’s a long time since I’ve listened to those tracks, Tricia. But it’s not the music. Something has changed in me today and I feel much more energetic.”

“Whatever it is I am delighted, Tom. It’s as if you’ve stepped forward three months in your expected recovery.” She rose from her matching recliner on the opposite side of the gas fire. “Shall I turn it off or just down a bit?”

“Off, please. I’m ready now. It’s almost a year since we went to bed together.” I rose and held out my arms to her.

“Oh, I do hope this isn’t too early to resume our loving.”

She came to me, and we stood kissing in a tight embrace. I wanted nothing more than to put her mind at rest. “Relax, dearest. I’m not ready for that, yet.”

Her relief was obvious as she relaxed in my arms, and I was able to hold her weight. “Please don’t think I don’t want you, my love. I just don’t want you to relapse,” she sighed, gratefully.

“I’ll let you know when I believe my strength has recovered sufficiently. I know you don’t want me to over-exert myself, yet.”

“I can hardly wait, Tom. I miss you so much.”

“Let’s give it a few more days,”’ I said.

Tricia looked at me quizzically. “You’d think he was reading my mind.”

“I am feeling better and stronger with every passing day. It may come sooner than you think.” I was beginning to realize, the voice could be an asset.

“We’ll know when it’s the right time,” Tricia said.

“You won’t be able to hold me back when I feel we’ve reached that day.”

I could hear the machinations of her thoughts. The dichotomy of having nursed a broken, child-like being back into a healthy, whole man lying beside her with obvious desires fast returning made her delirious with the pleasure of having played a major part in his recovery but a little worried about the rate of his further progress in the last two days

“Steady on, tiger,” she giggled, slid under the sheets, and reached into her bedside drawer for one of Danielle Steel's many romance books. “Aren’t you reading tonight?”

“Hadn’t planned to,” I responded. “But I may change my mind if I can see anything exciting on the shelf.”

“There’s a new Jack Reacher book that came in the post yesterday.”

“Got it. Thanks, dear. Something to take my mind to a different horizon.”

“Don’t go too far away.”

“There’s no fear of that. I don’t plan on straying far from your side.”

After reading no more than half a page I could feel myself nodding. My eyes were closed but my brain continued to read a story; not the written story, but some other story that it was making up as it went along.

“Tom, put the book down, your eyes are closed.”

I felt her take the book from my hands, and little more, as my mind blanked out.

But the voice wasn’t ready to shut down without a parting shot. “You have no idea what lies ahead. Rest easy. Let your body benefit from the restorative power of my influence. You are going to need my help but if you trust me, we will surmount the challenges. Sleep.”

Chapter 3

My morning walk through the park was the most vigorous I had experienced in a year. I was only a fraction off jogging pace, and I wasn’t even breathing heavily. There were others out and about in the late rare morning sunshine. I smiled as they passed me, eliciting a nod of acknowledgment.

Continuing at a steady pace I overtook a mid-twenties singleton and was dumbfounded to hear, “I hope I can still run like that when I get to his age.” He was running alone, so it was unlikely he had spoken the words and as there was no one else in sight he must have been referring to me.

“I think I just heard a stranger’s thoughts.”

“Seems like your power is much more extensive than you thought.”

“But that’s horrifying. I don’t want to share stranger’s thoughts.”

“It might be fun.”

“Not the kind of fun I’m after.”

“You’ll know what all your friends think about you.”

“But I don’t want to know their private thoughts. That’s immoral”

“If that’s what they’re thinking, how can it be immoral? It’s just their true feelings.”

“But everyone has a right to their personal and private opinions.”

“Wouldn’t you rather know the truth? You can’t change things if you don’t know the lie of the land.”

“I suppose there’s some logic to your argument.”

“There’s no argument going on here. Just a better way of understanding.”

I continued my jog around the park pond. Oh! God. This was so confusing. People were approaching. They were out for a morning constitutional walk around the park. Minding their own business. I recognized them as regulars and gave them a broad smile and a, “Lovely day for it, today.”

They acknowledged my greeting and returned the smile, and I didn’t hear a thing. “That’s a relief,” I thought. “It would blow my mind if I could everyone’s thoughts.”

“It might just be that you managed to screen them out.”

“I didn’t try anything.”

“You are gaining more control. Perhaps you can read thoughts at will, now.”

“Now, there’s a thought. What if I can turn it on and off?”

I had reached the other side of the pond. There was a playing field, and a small group of kids were kicking a football about. The ball flew my way, toward the pond, and I half-ran to trap the ball One of the boys ran toward me to retrieve their ball. Without thinking I chipped the ball directly into his arms.

“Thanks, mister,” he shouted and returned to the fray.

“I didn’t know you could play football.”

“I never did. I was always a rugby player.”

“How many more hidden talents are there to come to light?”

“I didn’t think about it.”

“Well, you certainly impressed the kids.”

“Me too!”

Things were improving in leaps and bounds. There were two park benches on either side of the gateway. The bench to the left was occupied by two men dressed in city office garb, complete with ‘old school’ striped neckties. I decided to sit at the bench on the right

“That sounds like a plan, but what if he realizes what we are doing?”

“Well, there’s no way I’m going to lose over two hundred thousand pounds.”

“If he resists, I’ll knife him.”

“I’m not signing up for that, Chris.”

What in the world was I hearing?