Un2talented (Book 3 of the Un2 Series)

“What am I doing? More like ’What are you doing?’ Get away from those doors and get back over here!” Cadence pointed to the floor directly at her side. “You promised me that you would stay out of trouble!”

Dorian sprinted across the aviary and stood beside her.

“I wasn’t doing anything bad.”

“I certainly hope not!” Cadence pinched his upper arm.

“Ow! I said I was behaving! What are you doing back here? Where are Lenny and Slicey McSlicerson?”

“They’re down the hall in a room that reminds me of the nurse’s office at our junior high. It’s kinda creepy. Ugh!” Cadence shuddered. “Lenny suggested that he may need a couple of stitches. I don’t need to see that! We should get back there, though. If there’s stitching going on, I hope he’s done by now!”

Although the First-aid Room had been outfitted with modern-day medical supplies and equipment, the décor trailed behind by three-quarters of a century. A white hex-tiled floor dotted with black accent tiles anchored the semi-gloss milk-green walls. The fixtures, cabinetry, and furnishings were all a metal construction, coated with white enamel and capped with porcelain work surfaces. The cushioned seating was upholstered in heavy black cowhide. All pieces looked to be original and worn, but well maintained. Cadence and Dorian arrived to see Lenny and his patient sitting at a small table near the back of the room. They both examined the gashed hand under a gooseneck lamp that had been pulled closer for increased illumination. Blood oozed from beneath the butterfly bandage.

“Damn, I was hoping that would suffice. Are you on the payroll, young one, or just a guest?”

“I was just crashin’ here after a gig. I’m supposed to be on the road already headed to tonight’s job. My bandmates are gonna kill me!”

“This looks like a trip to the emergency room. I’m afraid I don’t possess the skills for something like this.”

“Do I look like a guy that has insurance? Can’t you just throw some more bandages on it or something? I’m crushed for time and cash!”

Lenny sighed and shook his head. He glanced repeatedly at a waist-high panel located on the back wall of the office. “Okay, I have a solution, but I’m hesitant to use it. It’s only supposed to be used in extreme cases.”

“I’m game! I promise I won’t tell anyone anything.”

Lenny walked over to the panel and rotated the latch that held it shut and flipped it down, allowing it to hang against the wall. A light blinked on within the opening. The room filled with a mixture of smells, most notably a coconut, beach-like scent mingled with floral overtones.

“Is that …?” Dorian started.

“A fish tank? Yes, it is,” Lenny completed his question and answered it.

A pane of two-inch-thick frameless glass ran spanned the opening, its polished green edge split the hole at the center. Sparkling water undulated beneath the light. Dorian moved closer to view the tank’s contents. He only saw glimmers that faded off into darkness across the depth of the tank.

“That’s one huge fish tank! What do you keep in there, a whale?”

“A goldfish,” Lenny replied.

“It must be a pretty friggin’ big goldfish!”

“I do not know its size. I have never seen it myself. But, based on the amount of food it requires I would assume that it is indeed a pretty big friggin’ goldfish. “

“Excuse me,” the patient injected. “This little ichthyological chat is delightful, but what does this have to do with my hand?”

“Ichthyological?” Cadence questioned, somewhat surprised.

“What? A musician isn’t allowed to know big words?”

Cadence blushed, embarrassed.

The hooded one chuckled. “No worries. My name is Joey, by the way. I’m from Seattle. There are lots of fish markets there. I was bound to pick up some of the lingo. I know ‘cephalopod’ as well.”

He extended his bloody hand and then quickly withdrew it. He shrugged and extended his other hand.

Cadence giggled and gave it a shake. “I’m Cadence.”

Dorian rolled his eyes.

“And this is Dory,” Cadence said, punctuating it with an elbow to Dorian’s ribs.

“To answer your question,” Lenny interjected, “DeLeon has quite the collection of oddities. This is just one of many. I don’t know how, but the water in this tank has amazing regenerative powers. I’ve seen it used to reattach a severed finger.”

“Why are we waiting? Let’s drench this thing!” Joey pushed up his sleeve and leaned toward the tank. Lenny stopped him as he was about to submerge his hand.

“Before you do this, I need to tell you that we aren’t sure if there are any long-term effects of using the water. So far, so good, but there are still unknowns.”

“Cool,” Joey said as he plunged his arm into the tank with a splash.

Ruby tentacles spiraled from the slice and encircled Joey’s hand. Their slow, floating movements froze, and then jerked quickly from side to side. The plasma reversed its flow and sucked back into Joey’s palm looking as if a video was on rewind. He pulled his hand from the tank and watched as the blood and water droplets raced into the rapidly self-sealing gash. Within seconds there was no sign of a wound and the hand was completely dry. He opened and closed his hand checking its mobility.

“Whoa! That was nuts!” Dorian exclaimed.

“Truly amazing!” Cadence added.

“Can I take some with me? I’m always tearing up my fingertips. This would be so much better than using crazy glue!” Joey performed a quick bit of air guitar.

“Sorry, no.” Lenny shook his head. “They tried to bottle some when DeLeon first acquired it. They planned on having it analyzed to see if they could replicate it and mass-produce it. As soon as a sample was pulled from the tank it ‘died’, for lack of a better term. It turned black and then evaporated before they could even plug the test tube. They even tried capping the tube underwater, but as soon as the sample became separated from the main body of water the same thing happened.”

“It sounds like the water, or microorganisms in the water have some sort of relationship with the fish. An ichthyological ectosymbiotic paring if you will.” Joey smiled at the blank stares coming at him from the other occupants of the First Aid room. “Okay, so I read National Geographic occasionally. Jeez!”

“Lenny,” Cadence began, “If this is available, why did Mike get stitches on his finger?”

“As I said earlier, there are unknowns in healing with the water. Besides, Mike is pretty old school. He’s not too crazy about all this ‘hocus-pocus’ and, honestly, I think he wanted the scar.”

“Yep, that sounds like Mikey.”

“Well kids, it’s been swell but I need to hit the road.” Joey took Lenny by the hand. “Lenny, I owe you one.” He shifted his gaze.” Cadence, I hope to see you in the not-too-distant future. Maybe next time we’ll grab a cup of coffee.” Joey winked. He turned to Dorian and acknowledged him with a single head bob. He turned and exited the room. Cadence watched as he left.

“Maybe next time we’ll grab a cup of coffee,” Dorian jibed.

Lenny chuckled under his breath, and then redirected the conversation.

“How about we get you your gear so you can be on your way?”