September 9th 2012, 4:15 pm, Hickory Grove, Wisconsin
"Good afternoon, Mercy Hospital Patient information, how may I help you?"
"Room number, please, patient name of "Sage."
"I'm sorry, is that a first or a last name?"
"Just search for the name 'Sage,' please."
"Ok ... just a sec ... well, you're right. I do have a patient in I.C.U. listed as "Sage," no last name given. Would you like me to ...
The other end of the line went dead.
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Jed squinted in the late afternoon sun. Other than Sage taking an extra lap around the revolving exit door, their descent to the main entrance of the hospital was uneventful, if painfully slow. The sun now stood half concealed by the enormous parking garage that stood adjacent to the main wing of the hospital fifty yards away; its dying rays shining down upon a sea of asphalt that docked the land-yachts of the Mercy Hospital professional staff.
Sage made his way, stalwartly, to the one isolated oasis of green grass, flowers and shrubbery floating in the vast sea of black tar sitting in the shadow of the monolithic parking garage. Jed and Naomi followed; the former grumbling to himself the entire way and pretending to ignore the warning looks of his wife every time he began to ask Sage where, exactly, they were supposed to be going.
At long last, the three arrived at the curb-encircled patch of green. Sage turned to face Jed and Naomi and, to their utter confusion, quietly removed his slippers.
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The three hospital orderlies, a woman and two men, converged upon the central hallway of the hospital's fourth floor, each arriving from separate directions. After making the briefest of eye contact, they made their way, single file, past the I.C.U. reception desk that was manned by a dozing geriatric volunteer and walked the twenty yards necessary to stand, shoulder to shoulder, before the entrance of I.C.U.'s bay 6.
After a nod from her companion on the left, the female orderly lifted her hand slowly to the concealing curtain and quietly pulled it off to the side as it made a slow, whispering .
All three looked upon the rumpled, but empty bed before them.
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"For crying out loud, Sage," blustered Jed, "would you just tell us what this is all about, already," the last threads of his limited patience beginning to fray.
He shrugged off Naomi's staying hand and took a step closer to the old man.
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"Sage, if you don't ..."
The wizened figure put a hand on Jed's chest, the gesture being so strange that it stopped him in mid-sentence.
Sage leaned his hoary head forward until his nose was mere inches from Jed's own. "I will show you," he said, quietly.
With that, he removed his hand slowly from Jed and gestured open handedly to the ground between them.
Jed thought his mind must be playing tricks on him. Or, at least, he thought that he must have taken an accidental overdose of his medication this afternoon. For in that moment, his eyes became riveted to Sage's gnarled feet as tiny tendrils of reddish fire crackled around their edges, like a miniature thunderstorm gracing the feet of some ancient Greek demigod.
The blood-red fire grew in its intensity, holding Jed mesmerized and drawing Naomi, open-mouthed, to her husband's side. A moment later, Sage raised his lowered hand to chest level and made a fist, allowing both Jed and Naomi's bodies to block the view of any prying eyes. To their mutual astonishment, the violet lightning surrounding Sage's feet now manifested in his balled fist; faintly at first, then growing in intensity until both Jed and Naomi had to wince for all its brightness.
Breathless, Jed's eyes lifted to the old man's face and found that Sage was already gazing intently at him; a faint smile tracing his cracked lips. Nodding faintly downward, Sage drew Jed's attention back to his hand. The brilliance of the fire had waned to half its former glory before Sage slowly opened his hand and extended it, palm-forward, before him.
To the stunned couple, it appeared as if a three dimensional, vertical arc had magically formed a transparent, purple, and body-length barrier between Sage and the two of them; its concave side facing inward toward the old man. They watched in fascination as the living membrane began to slowly extend itself outward from Sage's body, until it came into contact with them. Jed experienced the strangest of sensations. There was no pain, but rather a cool, tingling sensation as the red-hued half-bubble came into contact with his exposed skin. Against his will, he found himself moving backward, unable to resist the gentle, but insistent pressure of the transparent sphere. Naomi, also, back-pedaled three steps, as she was nudged by Sage's violet shield.
"Sage, what is this?" whispered Naomi with a hoarse and shaken voice.
Instead of answering, Sage slowly retracted his shield until it appeared to draw itself back into the crackling tempest surrounding his hand. Looking, deliberately, from Naomi's face to Jed's, Sage again inclined his head, this time in the direction of a shrub on their left. Within its embrace could be seen a weather-beaten soda can lodged in one of its lower branches. Sage balled his wrinkled hand back into a fist, then suddenly one thin tendril of lightning shot forth from his clenched hand. Jed and Naomi watched in rapt fascination as the bolt latched onto the can and slowly pulled it out of the bush until it landed softly on the ground between them. Jed noticed, momentarily, that the electric fire still burned beneath Sage's feet, before his eyes were drawn back to the aluminum can. The arcing thread of fire linking Sage's hand to the can multiplied into two, then four, then dozens, before the engulfed can began to melt slowly under the intense heat. Less than ten seconds later, there was nothing left of the can, save for a silver puddle of molten slag staining the ground before them.
With that, the fire in Sage's hand slowly withdrew, drawing Jed and Naomi's eyes back to the ground beneath Sage's feet. The elemental fire crackled for a few seconds more before dying out altogether; seeping back into the soil that spawned it.
Jed became aware that he was shaking. Naomi placed an unsteady arm around her husband to keep her own knees from buckling. Both of them pulled their eyes away from Sage's feet and looked intently and questioningly into his watery eyes.
"Sage," Jed managed hoarsely, "what did we just ..."
He never finished his sentence. For, at that moment, the air around the three exploded in a blinding flash and Jed felt himself crumpling to the ground.
