Free Evil Dreams by John Tigges

husband once more. The shadows still painted his face in a surrealistic manner. Quietly opening the door, she stepped into the hall.
    Only Jon’s steady breathing disrupted the silence in the room. Then his eyes opened and an evil smile curled his lips.

 
    CHAPTER 4
    Trina hoped Jon had not noticed her haggard appearance. She vaguely remembered the clock in the living room striking four before dropping off to sleep, and then, in what seemed like seconds, the alarm clock had rung. Her thoughts, filled with concern for him, had managed to keep her awake most of the night. Suddenly, the closeness of the elevator seemed to press in on her. She wanted to speak to Jon but felt she could not in the presence of the two strangers who stood with them.
    Studying Jon lying on the gurney convinced her that he was still confused about the experience he had suffered yesterday. The thought of blood pouring from his head had dominated her nighttime reflections. Had she imagined the whole thing? Was his dream beginning to affect her in some strange way? He had screamed just like he did whenever he had suffered the nightmare. She remembered throwing the door open to see him fall from his chair. She remembered the blood. No one could ever convince her that she had not seen it. She didn’t care if it had disappeared, leaving no trace or stain of any kind. She had seen it.
    Taking her eyes from him, she looked covertly at the two orderlies who were taking Jon to the radiology department. She found the young man and woman lost in whispered conversation.
    When she felt Jon pull on her arm, she looked down at him.
    He mouthed the words, “I’m doing this for you,” and smiled.
    She nodded and lovingly touched his hand.
    The car gently settled to a stop, its doors sliding open without a discernable sound. Trina followed her husband’s cart into the hall. Several turns through the labyrinthian corridors brought them to a double door and the woman turned to face her.
    “We’ll let you know when you can come in for a few minutes, Mrs. Ward.” Without waiting for a reply, she left her standing alone in the hall.
    Trina leaned against the cool, tile wall. For some inane reason, she felt guilty about all of Jon’s problems. But, why now, of all times? Her own sense of responsibility and concern had vacillated from deepest worry to full acceptance of anything the doctors might find. At least if the cause of the dream were known, it could be countered intelligently. She smiled ruefully. Why should she feel as though she were committing some abominable crime for having her husband’s welfare foremost in her mind? Would the doctors discharge Jon with a clean bill of health, only to insist that she seek help either for her eyes or her imagination? Doctor Lehigh, the resident internist, had irked her when she told him of the blood shortly after they had arrived at the hospital.
    “Really, Mrs. Ward, what you’re telling me is something completely out of the range of normal medicine. I wasn’t prepared for something like disappearing blood while I was in school,” he had said curtly.
    When he appeared to have dismissed it as the product of an overwrought imagination. Trina decided not to mention the incident again.
    The double doors opened and the woman who had accompanied her and Jon in the elevator appeared, motioning for her to enter.
     
    Jon blinked at the brightness of the room. Lights placed every foot-and-one-half around the room’s perimeter were enhanced by more ceiling lights. The orderlies transferred him to a table and before settling down on the hard surface, he stretched lazily. A male nurse deftly shaved, then scrubbed a small area next to the previous test site, on the inside of his right thigh. Suddenly aware of another person standing behind him, Jon turned his head and saw Dr. Orval Rodgers.
    Rodgers, a huge man, had appeared portly in his suit and tie the first time they met, but now had taken on an ungainly mien in his green