Fitful dreams plagued Dr. Claireborne. In one, a naked miniature Buddha chased him around the station on a giant snowmobile. It had a giggly laugh, and it never stopped using it as it bore down on him with an outlandish cartoon smile. In another, he was a woman. He could remember no other detail, but that one was enough to make him wake up and put a hand to his chest, just in case.
Finding everything to be in order, Claireborne shook his head and looked at the clock beside his bed. 1:30 AM. He grunted and shook his head. A time like that would mean turning over and going back to sleep at home. But here, it meant rise and shine. Here, the people slept when they got the chance to and got to work when they woke up. Antarctica was timeless in that respect. Time did not govern what you did in the course of a day. It only told you how long you had been doing what you were doing, and gave other people a way to get you to do things faster. Here, it was a completely different concept.
So Dr. Claireborne got out of bed. Scott had already left, dragging himself off to another shift, or perhaps down to the medical center, to flirt with Ms. Hallie. If that was where he was, Claireborne would have to talk with the cook, Mr. Vicars, to see if he couldn’t curtail the young man and his advances on the doctor’s assistant.
One boot at a time, Claireborne got ready to head outside again. It would be twilight now, and would stay that way for another hour or so. The sun would hover halfway over the horizon, then slowly rise again, as par its ever indecisive course in these long, summer days. Endless light at almost all hours of the day. It was enough to drive some people a little crazy. Claireborne remembered one fellow who he had shared a room with a couple of summers ago, who had covered the window in a dark black curtain, and had smashed every light he could find, desperate for night in this place of perpetual sunshine. Raytheon had eventually sent him out again, but it took maintenance forever to replace the bulbs he had destroyed.
Claireborne left his room and walked down the halls of the residence center. Loud snoring could be heard within one room. Perhaps it was John, or one of his other drinking buddies. Claireborne didn’t know. Here, one did not meet one’s friends at their rooms. You met them out working, out at the bar, or out just walking. Their room was their house, their sanctum from you and everyone else here. Courtesy dictated that you not disturb that sanctum unless it was of the gravest importance. They had yet to find something that gravely important.
The cold air nipped at the doctor’s face as he stepped out and put on his parka. The wind was not blowing though. This was acceptable weather, cold, but still and quiet. He walked back down the ice road towards the medical center. First thing would be to find out how Ms. Patterson had faired the night. Then he could go on to the ordinary happenings of the McMurdo Medical Center, namely making the rounds and finding if new supplies were needed. And after that, the solitude of his office.
It was a long walk in the half-light of the almost set sun. The shadows around Dr. Claireborne were oftentimes odd looking, cast in odd angles that seemed almost Cyclopean at times. But he disregarded them. Antarctica was always attempting to breach the minds of those who tread upon its icy surface. After a while, one learned to block it out, use the rational mind to confine decidedly irrational supposing. It was a survival mechanism, essential in this place.
Dr. Claireborne opened the door of the medical center and stepped inside. He shook his head once and took off his parka. Ms. Hallie rushed up to him. Her promptness, her stationing herself by the door in anticipation of the doctor, was noted. Something had happened, something profound and noteworthy.
“Ms. Hallie, you seem a little worried,” he said.
“It’s the Patterson case,” she replied. “The hypothermia victim that came in last night.”
“What has changed in her condition? Has she died?”
Ms. Hallie shook her head. “No. Come see.”
The doctor furrowed his eyebrows. “What? Can’t you tell me here?”
She shook her head. “No one should see yet but you.”
It was not in Ms. Hallie’s nature to be cryptic for no reason. In fact, Dr. Claireborne noted that it wasn’t in her nature to be cryptic for any reason at all. He nodded and motioned for her to lead on. She hurried on down the hall, with him trailing behind her. Occasionally she would look over her shoulder, to make sure that the doctor alone was following her. Now he could see that she was exceptionally worried. Her mannerisms were more nervous than they usually where when a patient had taken a turn for the worse or, worst case scenario, actually died.
There was a curtain in front of the door to Ms. Patterson’s room. Ms. Hallie paused and turned back to Dr. Claireborne.
“Doctor, I know that you are my superior. I know that I am supposed to defer to your judgement in extraordinary circumstances. But I please ask you to not tell anyone what’s in this room.”
Dr. Claireborne considered her request. “What is it, Ms. Hallie?”
“Something that disturbs me,” the assistant said. “It’s unnatural and...and it disturbs me greatly. So far, only I and Mr. Valentine have seen what is in here.”
“You keep referring to something, not someone,” the doctor noted. “What has become of Ms. Patterson?”
Ms. Hallie opened the door a little. “See for yourself.”
The doctor slowly stepped forward and walked through the door. Ms. Hallie followed after him and shut it behind them. With quick motions she locked it. That did not catch the doctor’s attention. By that time, all his thought was bent upon what was in the bed before him.
It had a human shape and design, bipedal, two arms, walked upright. But there the resemblances ended. For instead of normal human skin, the black and white pattern of an orca whale covered its body. Its head was reminiscent of one as well, with nostrils migrated from its face to a much higher position and a mouthful of peg-like teeth. It was grotesque in many ways.
“Ms. Hallie,” Dr. Claireborne said slowly. “What is this?”
Ms. Hallie took a deep breath before she spoke. “That is, or was, Ms. Patterson.”
For a moment or so the doctor was speechless. Then, he found the few words that came to him. “What did you say?”
“All this happened last night,” Maxwell said, standing up from his position beside the bed. His face was haggard and told of a lack of sleep. “I watched it happen. She and I watched it happen.”
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Canary word: Present
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125,008 Literary Works • 672,814 Reviews
I think you've been waiting long enough for this review...
Despite agreeing with Lin, I know you're not one to put in pointless details. I have a funny feeling something along these lines is going to show up. Actually, if you're going to put such a detail into the work, it had better show up later. Despite how weird it is and how people might not want it to show up.
With this line, I thought Claireborne had woken up normally. Add some sort of description ("suddenly" would do, even. But there are other options) so that this dream being a bit of a nightmare is more obvious.
"Shook his head" is repetitive here.
I dislike "at home" here. I thought Claireborne had been in Antartica for a few years now. Usually, unless otherwise noted, a few years is enough to consider a place "home." Claireborne also seems to have a fondness for Antarctica, so it would seem even stranger why he doesn't consider this place "home."
~ I'm unsure of the repetition of "here" in these two sentences. The repetition seems to reinforce how harsh a land Antarctica is, but at the same time it's repetition. Your call on what you do.
~ I'd delete the "to" after "chance." It breaks up flow and is repetitive with the "to" after "got."
I'm confused by these, technically three, sentences. The first one, before the comma, is fine. It's a pretty clear statement of fact that I can understand.
The sentence after the comma is mostly what I'm having a problem with. If there isn't a traditional concept of time, as you're explaining, how can time be used as leverage? That really doesn't make sense to me.
And for the final sentence, I'd simply delete it because you've been saying the concept of time is different in Antarctica for the past paragraph; the last sentence reads as repetitive.
"So" is implied here. It's really a junk word. Nix.
I can see what you're doing with the comma, a somewhat disgusted pause in front of the fact that Scott is flirting, but I didn't get that the first time I read it. Either replace that comma with a dash or delete it completely. Right now it's breaking up flow.
I'm wondering if we need to know the cook's name for any plot reasons. If not, delete the name here. If the cook does play a part in the plot later on, then ignore this comment.
I like the rather understated way you're saying that Claireborne is an ordinary person with the "one boot at a time" description.
I don't think we've been introduced to a "Raytheon" before. Who, or what, is it?
In -40 weather, one does not step outside without a parka. One does not step outside without a parka in general when it gets to -20 C (-4 F) because cold air gets between your skin and the parka, and, in short, you don't warm up for awhile after (if you ever warm up).
Did I mention skin can freeze in under ten seconds when it's that cold, and your teeth can shatter if you take a breath without a scarf over your face? It can happen in Northern Canada, and I would think the south poll is colder.
Before, you mentioned the sun was closer to rising than setting. Because of that, I don't think "set" fits.
I'd like to see the comma after "weather" as a semicolon.
~ "Odd" is repetitive.
~ "Cyclopean"s meaning is hard to guess in this circumstance. I've seen you use it before, where the meaning was easier to guess, but in this case there isn't any way to figure out what it means.
Because you didn't mention Ms. Hallie waiting for Claireborne by the door when he first walked in, finding out she had been waiting by the door is jarring. I read this line twice to make sure she'd been waiting by the door. When I saw that she had been, and that he didn't see her right away when I thought he would, I was really jerked out of the work.
~ I like the irony of this, coupled with the lines above, and a little earlier when rooms were mentioned. The fact that not even a patient turning into an orca was enough to disturb him in his room.
And, any sort of wondering about why she didn't do that is wiped away with the secrecy about the whole case. Nice work.
~ And after saying that, "note" is repetitive as a root word (Noted and noteworthy)
I'd like "again" put at the end of this, since she just shook her head a couple of lines ago.
I like this line, I just don't like how you've used "noted" again. It's getting repetitive in this whole section, not just a few lines.
"On" is repetitive here. I'd delete the one after "hurried" since it's not really needed.
~ "Where" should be "were."
~ "Worst" feels repetitive because it was used right after "worse."
According to the definitions I found, "bipedal" means a creature walks upright on two legs. I would rework this list so it doesn't get repetitive.
In context, I feel like a word is missing/off in this description. Since nostrils are usually above the mouth, I'd like to see "and" replaced with "over" so this feels more complete.
I burst out laughing with this line. Love it!
*
And I'm once again not used to reviewing your stuff! Bear with me while I ramble.
The nit-picks should take care of the repetition issue in this chapter...
I liked how this chapter was set up. Lost of little details that are starting to spring forth, like Antarctica messing with people's minds. The small details like that were strong, which I enjoyed.
The description in general was lacking, though. The mention of time at the beginning tended to make me more confused than really get immersed in the world. It's like the surroundings, which were rather rich at the beginning, especially for your work, are becoming less and less.
I think one of my spots of confusion was how he suddenly views Antarctica as a place he's visiting. Before, he'd spoken rather fondly of the desolate place. Now, he seems to be comparing it to "home" and looking at the surroundings with unease or displeasure. Which I find doesn't make sense if he's been living there for years, and if he moved to Antarctica to get away from people, he'd look at it more as a safe haven then a desolate place.
I think that's, in part, caused by the more cynical and somber twist you're putting into the work. Which isn't bad, necessarily, but I think that instead of making that the general tone it would be better if you made this chapter more like the calm before the storm. He doesn't really notice anything unusual, and he's more upset at a new patient being brought in and disrupting his calm.
Of course, the above comment could come from me knowing what's coming next. Still, I think even if I hadn't read the chapters after this, and you hadn't spoken to me about the plot, I would have found the set-up qualities in this chapter. I realize that's what it is, but I'm not sure if this set up is enough to keep me interested. Hence my suggestion of making Ms. Patterson's very being there an upset; it would give this chapter more tension and would help cover up the set ups you make here. It also fits with Claireborne's character, since he seems to dislike anybody that disturbs his peace.
The ending had me laughing, I will say that. I can just picture Claireborn's face. Don't add any description to the ending. It is perfect(ly funny) the way it is.
Drop me a line with questions!
~Rosey
Connie --
Ooh. Nice ending.
I enjoyed this, but there wasn't much to it. Both in plot and writing. You and I, as has been said before, have very different writing styles, and fairly different taste in reading material as well. So, just take my comment on content with a grain of salt.
I just have a few nit-picks to address:
Unlike Jabbs, I don't like this. I've never liked descriptions of dreams, especially when they have nothing to do with the story itself. If it's not symbolic, or if it doesn't enhance the character, leave it out. It's a misplaced attempt at comedy.
Wording is a little screwy here. It's just an awkward sentence. I think you could do without it.
Ew. What's with the second person narrative? I don't like it. It really through me off.
Awkward. "It was a long walk in the half-light of the setting sun" works just fine, I believe.
--
Not quite connecting to the doctor yet. He seems kind of two dimensional. His dialogue is a little stiff, as I've mentioned before. But! Keep up the good work. I'm looking forward to the following parts.
-Kylan
Back a third time!
The opener paragraph was fantastic. xD
So Claireborne made me laugh at the end. The ending was awesome. XD
Beginning and ending are epic. The middle descriptive stuff is a bit much, though. You take too long describing this and that. I found myself zonging out and re-reading parts of it. Is all that information necessary to know? Or can the reader figure it out for themselves as they read the novella? That's the secret to info-dumping. Let the reader figure it out over time; don't tell them right then and there.
On to my Claireborne issue, he seems to be more himself in this part than House. I think the "What is that" comment he made at the end really helped me. I can't explain why, but it seemed more like Claireborne than House. Maybe because this is more fantastical than House? XD Either way, the ending began to show promise in his character.
There's nothing specific to point out. Although, they say this happened overnight... How long was Claireborne asleep again? It's like two in the morning. That's probably the only part I'm concerned with here. Especially since Antarctica's mornings and nights are confusing to keep track of.
This novella seems like an interesting read though, especially after that ending. Can't wait for more.
Keep writing!
Jabber, the One and Only!
Mister Rice! And now, I will torture you more by doing some more of the review then stopping again.
o.O I hope these dreams, uh, have nothing to do with the story.
The repetition of who is annoying me here. Maybe find a way to reword it?
It rhymes! I and Valentine! XDD Ignore my rambling.
Oh really? Is that the way it just looks, or is that how Claireborne sees it? Just saying that it is grotesque is bland and annoying.
So, uh, I wasn't expecting that. I should have been, knowing that it was you writing, but I didn't. Wooow. o.O
So far...
It's all just rather...bland until the end. And, it seems very telly. Like here:
Is he thinking this? It doesn't say so, really. You are just saying it. And that's how it is for a lot of this part. And it annoys me.
The good part!
Sorry for torturing you all day. Just keep writing, Mister Rice.
~Linx