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“One step closer to going home, huh?”
I nodded.
Home. Wherever Tully was, was home to me.
“I’d really like that.”
“I spoke to your partner about home care.”
“Husband,” I corrected automatically. It was a lie, but it gave me a thrill to say it.
I’m surprised the ECG didn’t beep.
“Sorry, husband,” the doctor said sheepishly. “He said twenty-four-hour home care is an option.”
Of course he did.
“If it gets you home quicker,” he added.
That made me smile.
“I explained it would require an ECG machine similar to this one and he had no objections.”
I tried not to smile so big. “Of course he didn’t.”
He nodded slowly, checking the chart again. “I asked him why you were wearing an athlete’s chest strap monitor.”
Oh no.
“Uh.”
He chewed on the inside of his lip. “First, he blushed and his brother laughed. So I could only assume...” He smirked at me. “Then he explained that you monitor your heart rate during electrical storms and that you’ve had a few close calls with lightning before.”
I inhaled deeply and let it out with a sigh. “I did, yes. But I think those days are over.”
“He said you chase storms together.”
“He’s a storm chaser. I’m a meteorologist.”
He nodded. “Yes, who issued the warning alert for the cyclone. Created quite the hype if I recall.”
At least he didn’t mention my mother, though if he knew who I was from Cyclone Hazer, it was like he knew anyway...
“And saved two children from a lightning strike,” he added.
“Yes, well, I think I’ll be staying indoors from now on,” I said. “My fulminology days are over. If I were a cat, I’d be on my ninth life.” I inhaled deeply, realisation that my studies were over really sinking in. “After my last close call, Tully told me I needed to consider him instead of almost dying to save other people. I think I’ll do just that.”
He nodded slowly. “Well, as a doctor, I’m inclined to agree with him. No more lightning strikes. I can almost guarantee the next one won’t be so kind.”
I considered telling him I hadn’t deliberately endangered myself in the name of science. Not this time, anyway. But what was the point? It didn’t make any difference now.
In the end, all I could do was sigh.
He checked my burns, my small exit wounds on the soles of my feet. According to the doctor, they looked like cigarette burns. As if someone had extinguished cigarettes on my skin. The one on my ribs was much the same.
Fascinating that the entry and exit of so many volts could be so concentrated, so small.
The Lichtenburg figures were beginning to fade from my neck, though were still darker at my ribs.
