“WHAT IS IT, DOCTOR?” TIMOTHY ASKED, UNABLE TO CONTAIN HIS SCIENTIFIC CURIOSITY.

“I’ll show you later. I first want to know how much you remember.”

“I told you, doc,” Timothy said with a hint of exasperation, “There was this loud noise and light and that’s it.”

“Why are you wearing a McDonalds uniform?”

“I think I went to work there?”

“Why?”

“Well, it was something about, um…”

The doctor screamed in frustration. “Become a doctor, they said. Pays well, they said. Respectable job, they said. Women would love you, they said. And I still don’t have a girlfriend. You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because all my time is wasted trying to get a straight answer out of the people I’m TRYING TO HELP.”

“It was you who asked for my expertise,” Timothy pointed out, “and I’m giving it to you for free.”

“And it is I who is taking care of your animal. I’m a freaking doctor, not a vet! And you’re supposed to make an appointment three hours before you come. Time is money. Should I charge you for my time you’re wasting? And don’t even think about leaving right now. I’m the one with the car keys. And I doubt anyone around here would lend you a ride. I’m still holding you dog hostage, by the way.

“Besides, I don’t need your stupid expertise. I could go find another, better specialist.”

“But it would cost money,” Timothy reminded in an infuriating, sing-song voice.

The doctor frowned. Timothy had hit his weak spot. “Go on,” he muttered.

“That’s it. There was something that prompted me to get a job there. I just can’t remember it.”

“An awful lot of use that is. Are you sure there’s nothing you remember after the light?”

“No.”

“Any dreams?”

Timothy considered. “Yes, actually, but I don’t remember most of it now.”

The doctor sat up. “Did you know that dreams are basically the product of your brain processing things you have been thinking of during the day?”

Timothy thought again. “I would have believed that if this dream hadn’t been so random.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Well,” Timothy hesitated, “before I begin, don’t yell at me for wasting your time again.”

The doctor scoffed. “Which just so happens to be exactly what you’re doing right now.”

“Okay. So this dream was about, I mean, I’m not sure what it was about. I knew there was a ferret somewhere in there, and a British? Australian? I think it was Australian voice. Oh, and it also had something to do with really long hair. Does that make sense?”

“No.”

“I thought so. I also I remember being dragged—” Timothy stopped, “I mean, dreamt about being dragged.”

The doctor was deep in thought. “You’re using a lot of strange words,” he remarked.

“Shouldn’t you have something more important to say other than my choice of words?”

“No, you misunderstand me,” the doctor replied, shaking his head, “You see, you said Australian voice. Normally, you would say an Australian person. Was it the ferret’s voice? Was the voice coming from a speaker? Was it inside your head?”

“I really don’t know.” Timothy frowned. “I’m sure it wasn’t the ferret that spoke. But it may have been from a speaker?”

“Do you remember anything said?”

“Of course not! I’d would have mentioned it if I had!”

The doctor frowned too. “Hmm. Moving on. What color was the long hair? How long was it? Who was the owner? Was she like Rapunzel, when you could only see the hair and not the person?”

“No. Definitely not Rapunzel. I don’t remember the face though. I can’t remember how long the hair was, but it felt very strange to see such long hair. I don’t remember what color the hair was, but probably something dark. And something you just said wasn’t quite right. I don’t know what.”

“Hmm,” the doctor said again, “So we have a ferret, a Australian voice that may have come from a speaker, a person with long, dark hair, and being dragged. Perhaps all of them dragged you?”

“Maybe. But how does that help? If dreams really do reflect what happens in real life, what happened in the last two days?”

“What?” the doctor exclaimed, “two days? What do you mean two days? And what do you mean ‘what happened’?”

“Well, I just woke up in the woods a few hours ago!”

“You didn’t tell me that! I thought you just, well, I don’t know what I thought, but you never told me you just woke up in the woods!”

“What did you expect? I come here in a McDonalds uniform, knowing nothing!”

“You knew you had an appointment.”

“That’s beside the point!”

The doctor sighed. “Whatever. I don’t know why you thought it was a good idea to get your dog before the authorities, but I’m not here to judge. This has just become a kidnapping case.”

“That is my choice, doctor,” Timothy argued, “I don’t want to call just yet. They wouldn’t believe me anyway. I don’t even believe me. But first, I want my information. I’m assuming you don’t have any other ‘tests’?”

The doctor shook his head. “I would test you for hypothermia or a cold, but it certainly wouldn’t be for free. Time is money.”

“Fine. Then tell me what the hell happened, and give me my dog.”

“Easy. There was a gas leak at McDonalds. Everyone survived. The worker insisted it was a plane that crashed—”

“Plane?”

“I wouldn’t believe it if I were you. There was no evidence suggesting it.”

“No,” Timothy silenced the doctor, “I just remembered. My dream had something to do with planes too.”

“So we can connect that part at least. Still don’t know about the ferret and the other crazy things you said.

“Anyway, so there was the gas leak. Everything caught on fire. Everything absolutely destroyed. The firefighters were able to prevent a massive forest fire, which was good. End of story.”

Timothy pouted. “Couldn’t you just make the story sound a little bit more interesting? Dramatic? Not anti-climactic?”

“Of course I can, but that comes with an extra fee.”

“Hmph. Of course it does. What was the thing you wanted me to look at then?”

“Ah, yes!” the doctor exclaimed, fishing for something in his pocket. “The day you brought your dog, a tailor came whining about his finger infection. It wasn’t too bad. Just a little pus. Anyway, I pulled this splinter out.” The doctor closed his hand around a glass vial and presented it to Timothy. “I got it analyzed, of course. They said that they couldn’t identify the material. But that was for free, and I never trust something that’s given for free.”

“I’m doing this for free.”

“Doesn’t count. You’re a second opinion.”

In the tiny vial was a tiny stick about the size of a single staple.

“I don’t see what’s so special about it,” Timothy admitted.

“Wait until you see this.” The doctor flicked the light switch and pulled down the blinds.

Timothy still didn’t see anything, but he waited for his eyes to adjust.

Then, a faint glow was visible, growing stronger as Timothy’s pupils dilated. “Now that’s interesting,” Timothy murmured, “is it related to phosphorus, like in glow sticks?”

“But it’s been glowing the entire time. A reaction wouldn’t last that long.”

“True.” Timothy reached out to take the vial, but the doctor flinched and pulled back his arm. “Hey, I need to take it to figure out what it is,” Timothy objected.

“Look, do you know what it is or not?”

“Did you listen to what I just said?”

The doctor sighed, flicking the lights back on. “Oh, well. You can have your dog back.”

“Maybe you should try putting it in the dark for a while,” Timothy suggest, “don’t leave it in the light for too long.”

“I tried. But it was glowing when I put it in the trash.”

Timothy sighed. “I really have to take it if you want me to—”

“I said it’s fine,” the doctor repeated, unlocking the door. “Donna? Where are you? Give this man his dog!”

Timothy stepped out of the room, rolling his shoulders back and stretching. It wasn’t his job to get involved with this strange splinter anyway.

But there was something nagging at the back of his brain.