《Doctored Chance: The Unpleasant Preceding of "Pajama Boy" and What Drove Him to Murder》8 | He's Alive

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If you have never been rescued before, then you will never be able to fully comprehend what it feels like until you place yourself in a dangerous situation and have everything fall out of your hands. The best analogy that I can think of to help my unrescued readers—who either are very capable of saving themselves, or are very incapable of finding themselves in dangerous situations—is a wave. Imagine being trapped beneath a wave.

Imagine surfing merrily atop one, enjoying a thrill, an adventure, the wind at your back, the adrenaline in your blood. Then suddenly, you find yourself hurled underwater through no apparent fault of your own. In the violent tumbling, you cannot determine which way is up, so for a while you pick one direction and swim. Bubbles burst sporadically from your throat as you desperately tear the water with your hands; but inadvertently, the whole time, you were swimming down.

Caught in the swells, you are raised up with the next peak and crashed down further, hard against coral. Your lungs have all but deflated, shriveled, useless sacks suspended in your constricting chest, and you have all but given up. The feeling of rescue is that of resurfacing. Whether you are pulled to the surface by a helping hand or brought there by fate, that gasp of air that you take will always be the most incredible breath of air that you will ever know. The filling of your lungs will be the best high you will ever experience, and your sense of which way is up will give you direction in more than just the literal sense.

As Tobias fell into Viola Mae Reed's arms, the breath he took tasted of strawberry-flavored red licorice, and suddenly the smell and taste of Berry Belts was best the smell and taste he had ever experienced. Soaking in the purple of her eyes and the rush of her voice and the care in her touch left him dizzy and red-faced and weak in the knee. Despite his inability to form words or control his fatigued muscles or even blink, Tobias look at his rescuers and found direction—after spending so long in the wrong company, he would finally spend time with the right, and he would never go back.

"The eruption was on T.V, bud," Teddy said gravely. His voice bounced around Tobias's skull and found its way out. Tobias didn't respond to anything that they said. He could barely hear them. Everything was so quiet, and yet deafening. "The whole nation thinks you're dead. We thought you were dead. Snowpea made the official statement. You didn't call out when she was searching for you?"

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Viola Mae held her bony fingers against his undamaged cheek, searching for his wandering eyes. He held his bandaged hand close to his chest and hung with his arm around her neck.

"Hey, hero," she cooed quietly, tilting her head. "Are you in there?"

He looked stupidly between her and Teddy and opened his mouth. His face twitched, but not a sound came out.

Viola Mae grimaced and looked worriedly to her fiancé. "Let's get him in the plane before he passes out on us. He needs a hospital ASAP."

Hospital. The other words bobbled in and out of his head uncomprehended, but hospital remained. Hospital bounced and bounced and bounced. Hospital.

"Hospital," Tobias repeated, eyes widening. "Hospital?"

"Watch it, Tobias!" Teddy dove to catch him before he could topple backwards. Tobias cried out and elbowed the man squarely in the chest at the touch to his tender right side. The pilot caved inwards but regained his posture quickly to stop the both of them from tumbling over. He touched Tobias's shoulder and whispered anxious apologies profusely under his breath. Tobias panted, eyes still wide and blank.

Teddy gingerly pulled Tobias's good arm around his shoulder and looked in befuddlement to Viola Mae. "This man needs food, water, and some painkiller stat. And we thought we had a rough few days."

"I love you, Teddy," Viola Mae said, eyes locked on Tobias instead, "but now is not the time for your jokes. Look at him!"

Tobias grabbed a fistful of Teddy's shirt, craning his neck to try and catch his eyes. "No hospitals," he pleaded hoarsely. He shook his head at Viola Mae. "No hospitals."

"Tobias!" Viola Mae cried, gesturing wildly to all of him. "You need a hospital!"

He shook his head more desperately. "Please!"

"Okay, buddy," Teddy said, gently patting Tobias's shoulder. "Put your shield away. We're going to get you in the cabin and sort you out with a nice resort-style treatment." He pushed Tobias's spectacles up the man's nose and carried on in a soothing but humor-laced tone. "You'll lie back, close your eyes, sip a chilled—room temperature—drink, and V and I will take good care of you."

Tobias touched his glasses, brows knit. Teddy, receiving no response, wiggled the frames on Tobias's nose until the survivor smacked his hand away with annoyance.

Tobias frowned at him, wringing out his sore hand. The bandages were coming loose. He held it close to his chest again. The fingers of his good hand dragged over his watch and his shield flickered out. He blinked up at Teddy and saw a flicker of clarity in his visions.

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"Don't pick me up!" he cried.

Teddy swept the man into his arms regardless and started carefully towards the plane. Tobias held very still, heart pounding.

Viola Mae jogged ahead and disappeared into the plane. By the time Teddy joined her, she had prepared a stretcher for Tobias to be laid on. The man groaned woozily as he was lowered onto the stiff fabric. His head rolled to look at her.

"Am I still pretty?" he asked, grinning dumbly.

Viola Mae laughed, but she was crying. She rubbed her knuckles over the tears, nodding repeatedly. "Still pretty," she sniffled. "Pretty cute."

He smiled absently and raised his good hand to her cheek. She leaned into it. She held it there, and he stroked her jaw affectionately with his thumb.

"I'm okay," he promised. "I'm okay, now."

Teddy appeared on his other side with a bottle of water.

Tobias slipped his hand away from Viola Mae to meekly push the bottle down, shaking his head. His eyelids hung heavy, half-closed. "I'm going to pass out soon," he murmured. He looked wearily between them. "Promise me; no hospitals. Please."

The couple simultaneously screwed up their faces, cheeks raising and foreheads sinking, and looked at one other. Viola Mae sighed sharply and pushed a curtain of long black hair behind her ear. It would fall out again soon, Tobias thought. It always did.

She gently removed his spectacles and ran her fingers through his dirty curls, nodding. "I promise. We'll take you to ours." But before he could relax completely, she stuck a finger between his eyes and glared sternly. "For now. You'd better have an explanation for this nonsense when you're feeling closer to yourself again."

"It'll be a sleepover!" Teddy cried, grinning down. He gestured to Tobias's charred rags. "You can have some of my clothes, too. I'm sure they'll fit... better than this mess does, anyways."

Tobias's eyes closed. "Don't tell anyone. Don't tell..."

At last, the exhaustion swept him to blackness. He drifted into a dreamless slumber, blissfully unaware of the "resort-style treatment" Viola Mae was doing her best at practicing. Though Tobias may have been able to predict that unconsciousness was in his future, he was not powerful enough—or awake enough—to predict that upon his awakening, he would have two half-fingers, one ear, and a whole clump of hair less. I have developed an aversion to resorts and spas and have not visited one since I came to this part in my research.

Tobias managed to sleep through the rumbling of the plane as it hummed to life and took the sky. Teddy sung something cheerful and off-key from the pilot's cabin—I wish I could understand Teddy, but he does not write journals and in my interviews, he spoke plainly and to the point. I cannot fathom how his mood turned so quickly before and after rescuing Tobias, but do lament that Tobias would never learn that on the way to get him, the only sound from Teddy had been loud sobbing.

Viola Mae is even more of a mystery to me. Too introverted to interview, all correspondence came through letters and e-mails, and what I learned of her melted my heart. Those letters are stained with tears, and two keys on my keyboard have since become too waterlogged to work. As rolled up her sleeves, set her jaw, and began to peel the sticky and stiff bandages away from Tobias's brown and white and red flesh, all she could think about was how grateful she was that he was alive. A foul and bitter aroma filled the cramped space, so powerful that Viola Mae staggered back. With each layer of cloth bandage that she unwound, the pungent reek amplified, but nonetheless, Tobias MacClain was alive.

"Viola Mae, honey," Teddy called. "Are you sure you're okay to do all that alone? I can land on the water and help you out, just say the word."

"No! Keep flying, Teddy," Viola Mae answered, covering her mouth and nose with her sleeve. She pulled the last bandage from Tobias's face, revealing the last of his gruesome scars. She bit her lip and carefully turned Tobias's head to look at his shriveled ear. "The sooner we're home, the sooner we can get him a bath and bandage him properly. I'll just put some gel on and get some water down his throat for now."

"All right." After a pause, he sighed wistfully. "Thank the powers he's alive."

Viola Mae nodded, feeling the tears returning. "Thank the powers."

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