Chapter 25 rewrite

Edmond smelled Lena’s perfume. There was an awareness of the ridiculousness of that, since he had never met her, and had no idea what perfume she normally wore, but on some level, he was sure that he smelled perfume, and that it was hers. He was also aware that he was not conscious. He couldn’t remember why he was unconscious, but he knew that he was. He struggled to try to remember what had happened—was he asleep? —but the circumstances eluded him. Part of him wondered why the familiar nightmare had not entered his mind, but he didn’t want to think about that too much, since the dream might consider that an invitation. He tried to look around, but he couldn’t see anything. He thought he heard distant voices, but he couldn’t understand them, or identify where they were coming from. He couldn’t even be sure if they were male or female voices, but somehow he got the distinct impression that he was the subject of the conversation, though, or, at least, one of the things being discussed. He strained to hear what was being said, but it was futile, all he could hear was a drone of indistinct voices. He was lying on his left side, and he couldn’t seem to get up. Slowly, he became aware that he was trying to push up with his left arm, which seemed to be okay, but it shouldn’t be; his left arm hadn’t been okay in a long time. He tried to remember how long, but he couldn’t be sure when ‘now’ was, so he really had no way to gauge how long it had been since he had last been able to use his left arm effectively. On some level he became aware that his left arm was pinned beneath the weight of his body. He tried to think of another word for that, he didn’t want to think in terms of his ‘body;’ that suggested that he worse off than just being unconscious. His legs also felt all right, but he knew that they shouldn’t feel all right any more than his arm should. He hadn’t been able to feel his legs in far too long, also. Maybe he could get up if he pushed with his right arm, but his right hand couldn’t seem to find the floor. It just seemed to feel around in midair, even though he was sure he was reaching lower than the left side of his, um, torso. He tried to determine if he was still in his wheelchair. If he was, that could be part of the problem. The chair was heavy, and there was no way he could push himself and the chair upright with his limited mobility. He would have to slither out of the chair, stand the chair up on its wheels, set the brake, and then pull himself into the chair. He had done this before, and although it wasn’t easy, it was normally doable. In his current condition, he wasn’t so sure. It all turned out to be academic, though, because he couldn’t feel the chair, but he couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t in it, either. He couldn't be sure about anything. He felt a growing sense of urgency, and frustration. Nothing seemed to be as it should be; left was down, and up was right. Everything was all mixed up and confused. He didn’t know where he was, or when he was, and he couldn’t be sure why he was so befuddled. Nothing made any sense. Somehow he knew, though, that if something didn’t change soon, if he didn’t find a way to move, that there was a very good chance that he would never wake up. He could make out something flashing, which added to his sense of urgency, but he couldn’t tell what it was, and whatever it was, it wasn’t helping him to shake himself out of his reverie. He could not wake up; his eyes simply would not open. He tried to scream, but his mouth and throat would not respond, either. Suddenly he wasn’t sure that he was breathing. He tried to fight the feeling of panic, but he was lost in feelings of frustration and anxiety, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was about to die. Then it came to him; he had confronted Mark about Lena’s disappearance, and Mark had slugged him. That was why he had lost consciousness, and that meant that he was at Mark’s mercy. For all he knew, he was at the bottom of a hole in the backyard right now, with Mark hurriedly shoveling dirt over his limp form. He really did need to wake up, and wake up now.