Yesterday, I went to my optometrist's office to get my annual eye exam. As the lovely young student took care of my exam, a story began to unfold inside of me. When I told Stacy what I was going to do, she laughed and said that hopefully, it would not be because I had a bad exam with her. I laughed and said that in fact, the exam inspired me and that I would dedicate the story to her. Thank you, Stacy at Southern College of Optometry!
I hope you enjoy.
I arrived at the optometrist's office with just enough time to sit down in the bland coloured waiting room and stretch my legs. Suddenly, an older man dressed in the standard “uniform” of an optometrist walked in and called my name. I smiled as I got up and followed him back into the exam room.
“I hope you weren't waiting long,” he said in a soft voice. I told him that I had not. As we walked, I noticed that he slouched a bit and that while his lab coat was extremely white, his brown pants looked to be rumpled and a bit faded. His pale skin seemed a bit sickly yet his thick head of brown hair with no grey proved otherwise. Ignoring any further rude thoughts about his appearance, we finally arrived in his small exam room. He asked me to take a seat in the large chair and so I did.
“Have you had any problems with your eyes?”
“No. I wear my glasses as much as I can.”
“Good, good.” He turned to his desk and began typing on his computer as I began to fidget. Although I had never experienced pain at an optometrist's office before, I was always rather sensitive about my eyes. My last optometrist of ten years suddenly got married and moved with his wonderful optometrist wife to New Mexico, leaving me and many other loving and loyal patients without their beloved doctor. After asking around, I finally found the name of Dr. David Finnegan with an office near my home. It seemed, through some internet digging, that he had been in the practice for over twenty years and so, I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and see him. As that thought dissolve in my mind, I turned to face the optometrist, who still typed away on his computer. He finally nodded and smiled then returned his attention to me, showing off his bright green eyes. “So, what brings you to my little office?” His smile was so radiant that I gave him one of my own. So far, so good.
“Just here for an exam. My last optometrist got married and moved away.”
“Oh, who was that?”
“Oh, yes,” he said as he leaned back in his chair, “Michael is such an awesome person. He and I used to go to bookstores on Sundays. He will be missed around here.” He then got up and proceeded to check his instruments and confirm that yes, I was blind and always would be.
“Will you need to dilate my pupils?”
“Oh no. I had your records sent to me from Dr. Jacobs' office. Since you had that done last year, you won't get it done this time around.” He then moved the massive phorotper in front of me and asked me to scoot forward. Soon, we began what I liked to call “better or worse” game. Is this one better or worse? What about now? Better or worse? I answered as best as I could and with every answer, he replied with either a nod or a grunt. He flipped the lenses and changed the letter cards, asking me to read the smallest print. Better or worse? Better or worse? Twenty minutes later, he pulled the phorotper from my face then dimmed the lights for the next part of the exam. He sat on a stool and moved rather close to my face with a bright light pen. “Going to check your pupils,” he said in a soft and almost warm voice. “Just follow my lead.” As he spoke, I could smell mint and a hint of lavender coming from his mouth. I followed as instructed while trying not to get distracted from his slow and steady breathing. He then grinned and pulled away to turn on the lights. As I stretched in the chair, he typed away on his computer then returned to me.
“Give it to me straight, Doc,” I said in a poor imitation of Bugs Bunny. “Am I still blind?”
“Oh no,” he said as he slowly turned to face me, his grin even wider than before, “I'd say you were rather perfect.” Before I could ask him if I needed a new pair of glasses, the lights suddenly went out. I gasped for a moment then relaxed.
“Dr. Finnegan, what happened to the lights?”
“You don't need such limitations.” I heard the rustling of fabric nearby and then I saw a darker form rise up. “I'm so glad.”
“Glad? Um, what-” I heard rustling again and suddenly, the dark form began to emit a strange soft glow. I put on my glasses and saw that it was Dr. Finnegan or at least, I thought it was him.
“I have searched long and wide for someone,” said a voice that sounded remotely like my optometrist, “and yet no one came close.” The glow grew brighter and brighter and as I made out just what caused the glow, I couldn't move. There stood my optometrist, completely naked and yet not. He stood with arms and legs stretched out and his slender body with no genitals was completely covered in eyes of every colour and shape. They blinked at different times as they glowed in different colours. I wanted to run out of the office yet could not.
“I have been hidden for too long,” said the creature in a low and sonorous voice. “Others have awakened, yet I still slept.”
“Awakened? What are you talking about?”
He took a step towards me and half of the eyes on his body stared right at me. “Do you know how agonizing it is to be a sleeping god? I slept for so long, living here and hiding. I slept because no one remembered me anymore. Everyone had either left or died.”
“Who's everyone?” As much as I wanted to run away, I also wanted to know more about this . . . thing.
“My followers. They died or found others gods to follow. No one wanted my gifts anymore. No one cared. We all slept, back then. We slept, dreaming of when IT would return. Now it has and I waited for so long to find someone.”
“Someone to do what? Good god, what ARE you talking about?” I wondered if it was a good idea to argue with a possibly mad deity, only to drop it. “Who are you?”
“I am the God of Sight,” it said as now all eyes focused on me and refused to blink. “And you shall be my First.”
“First? First what? Wait, are you going to kill me?” I suddenly found my legs again and was about to run for dear life. He raised his hand in peace and the eyes focused in all directions.
“I am sorry,” he said as he took another step towards me, “I did not mean to scare you. Because of your perfect sight, will you be my First? My human voice to represent me as when the other gods and goddesses wake up? There are still so many of us that are still sleeping.”
Before I could ask him more questions, I said yes. Somewhere deep inside of me, I knew. When I was younger, I loved reading mythology from different countries and stories of heroes of long ago. Yet, as I read them I wondered where they all went. Surely, I thought, they had to have gone someplace. They couldn't have been just stories.
“What do I do?”
He smiled and several of his eyes blinked rapidly. “Let me touch your eyes. It will not hurt, I promise.”
I, the First to the God of Sight, am his Voice.
The times that are coming are not times of war and destruction, but rather of change.
A massive change upon the entire world.
Stand ready and watch.