Sprained wrist Read online

Sprained wrist by S Rob

  I suppose the worst possible sight that Walter could see, was his entire collection of his own sexual organ parts raining down on him from above: as he had dreamt the night before. So from a perspective the fact that the remains of his burnt off hair was falling around him: meant this was his lucky day. People had bad days, people had good days: not always the same people. But having your hair being burnt off by a passing exploding car was either most, unfortunate, or incredible good luck? Walter had decided to be an optimist and realized that he had gained extra time in his day. No more would he need to bother about combing his hair. Unless he elected to collect it up and take it with him to the hospital.

  The journey to the hospital was quite restful due to the fact that he was put on huge doses of morphine. The ambulance men were quite calm. This was probably due to the fact that it was not them who had been burnt: if it had they would be considerably more distresses. In the hospital they looked at him and made thoughtful noises: but did not show him a mirror. He knew instantly that there was nothing they could do. When he did look in the mirror he was glad that he was employed: he did not want to deal with finding a job looking like this. His wife however was taken aback. She saw immediately the size of the hospital bill and protested that as they could not make his hair regrow then what, were they being charged for. She was him and barely recognised him. “What the hell have you done now? This is the second body in a year you have buggered up” she spat at him. “Sorry my darling but it just seems that I have had some bad luck lately” he said trying to calm her down. “How is the shopping? Did you get the dress you wanted?” “Yes. It was on sale.” “Maybe our bad luck is turning around?” he said.

  The people around them could hear slightly but did not think anything of it. What they had heard was so strange to them: they thought they must have heard it wrong. In fact a room full of people all convinced they were mistaken. A room full of people all looking surprised and then concluding they must have been mistaken: all in unison. Only one of them noticed that they had all done this. He was a man in his early 40’s. He was dressed slightly shabbily. The sort of shabby attire than could only worn by a man who was much more worried, by more important things.

  This was unnoticed, by the two apparently married people who were having the strange conversation. Just as well really as otherwise he would have died instantly. He was ushered aside as they tended to his sprained wrist. The person looked like a nurse and gave him some very good advice and bandaged his wrist. “Those people over there were having a very strange conversation.” he said to the nurse. He pointed to the couple. “No that was just you mishearing. I did too” she said. He nodded but wondered what the chance would be of two people mishearing at the same time. He did not press the matter. But he did get the distinct impression if he asked her, her overhearing would be the same as his own. He did not want to burden her. Plus he got the idea that this may not be good at all. Some things were better left.

  He simply walked out to the car in which a friend was waiting. The car was quite compact. He got inside. “Hey we should follow these people.” “Why” spoke his friend. He had known him from school: they were good friends. “Look these people were having a very strange conversation: an impossible conversation about inhabiting different bodies.” “Are you sure they were not just talking about getting laid” “Trust me they were not talking about sex” “You really are incorrigible. Okay I will follow them.”

  They looked on as the man and woman he had seen before walked out and got into a car. The man with the sprained wrist followed in the car behind with his friend. The man with the sprained wrist was called Anthony, and his friend Ted. They finally stopped at 22 Bartholomew Street. It was an unremarkable terraced house: red brick and with a white door. Anthony told Ted to drive off as he had seen enough. Ted drove Anthony home. Anthony got out and walked right in. He asked Ted if he wanted a cup of tea but he was too busy. Anthony made himself a cup of tea. He sat down and thought to himself: how could a person change bodies. How could a consciousness do this?

  He was also painfully aware that his elderly parents lived just around the corner from Bartholomew Street. A fact he did want the strange couple from the hospital to know. He worried for them and told them to go to stay with his uncle Egbert. They argued but he told them to go right now and not come back until he told them to. They called him later when they arrived. They obviously had taken his warning seriously as they had arrived quite quickly. Uncle Egbert was lived quite a long was away. A good distance, a distance he thought was hopefully long enough away to ensure their safety. Anthony had trouble sleeping and had an uncharacteristically stiff drink so that he could sleep.

  The next morning he woke up covered in sweat and hearing a loud ring. It was the phone and he had not known it sounded so loud after a few double whiskies. It was Ted on the other end of the phone. “God I had trouble sleeping last night. God you had to tell me, you had to notice. I would have been happier not knowing.” “Not knowing what.” said Anthony pretending not to know. ”Maybe I was mistaken?” “Of course you aren’t. I have never known you to make a mistake ever. You read people so well. I never could but you always could.” “I know that is what worries me too?” said Anthony. “So what do we do, do we ignore it?” whispered Anthony. “I don’t know if my nerves could stand that?” said Ted with an obvious shudder in his voice.

  They both decided they had to know what it was they were dealing with first. If anything could be done then they must know that first. Ted thought they must be ghosts, possessing spirits, who have hijacked another’s body. “Let’s get back to basics” announced Anthony. “Do we even know if souls exist? No this is about thought: the nature of a person’s mind.” He had heard that a famous neuroscientist worked at the nearest hospital. He knew he could not make an appointment. He looked on the internet and found his email address. He sent him an email. Anthony received an email from the neuroscientist almost immediately. This worried him slightly. He wondered if he could be involved in some way. But he decided he would go with Ted for extra safety.

  The neuroscientist met him at the door. He explained what he had heard. The neuroscientist was called Professor John Keys. “You are glad you found me” said the professor “Or you would probably be sent medicated and put in a mental word.” “Yes but why aren’t you doing this?” asked Ted. “Well because thought can be transferred to a computer. It can also be transferred back into a living brain. There are people working on this around the world.” He gazed at both Anthony and Ted hoping for a reaction. He got it. They were both exasperated by his openness. “The thing is I myself heard two people: a man and a woman: talking about this just yesterday. They were talking about this on the way out.” Anthony looked worried. “What should we do?” asked Ted. “Do”, said the professor “We do nothing. What can we do? The body of the man is now damaged he will be looking for another. We hope the body taken is not ours.”

  “They said that they had had a lot of bad luck” said Anthony. “That was the consciousness of the host body. It is obviously still in there just shut into the subconscious mind. Most of our actions are subconscious so the host’s personality tries to kill the invading mind. When it saw the car explode it probably drove its own body right into it.” “So the invading host may leave the brain, and leave the right person in the body?” said Ted. “Unlikely this would mean they would get caught.” interrupted Anthony.

  “The technology that would be needed would be immense. We are talking about a superrich set of people doing this. I dare say that it is probably not just the work of one person. It is probably happening all over the world.” Added the professor “Not much we can do at all.” He grinned. “Or so it would seem?” “Seem gasped T
ed and Anthony. “I have been contacted: by them. They will not hurt you or me.” ”Why not they hurt others?” added Ted. “They actually only take over the minds of serial killers: they would just rot in jail anyway. You will both be paid the sum of £10 million. If you take it you will also get £1 million a year for life”

  “So we can just walk away?” said Ted. “Sounds like a trap.” mumbled Anthony. “However if they wanted us they would have killed us already, or worse. Let’s just take the money and never talk about this again” “But can we? We all must agree.” announced Ted “All in or not” “We don’t really have a choice” said the Professor.

  They all decided to take the money and go on with their lives as before, only much richer. Soon after they heard that a person had gone missing, and a body of a man with a burnt head was found dead. They did live their lives and spent the rest of it looking behind them, and lived with much care. So much so that their wealth increased and they had almost forgotten about the source of their wealth. Until one day Ted overheard a niece talking about how it was good he had not worked out that she had taken over her mind. She liked to live in this much splendour. Ted did not do anything, as all along he had known there was nothing he could do anyway.