Lying in the hospital, Edgar Stone added up his misfor-
tunes as another might count blessings. There were enough
to infuriate the most temperate man, which Stone notori-
ously was not. He smashed his fist down, accidentally hit-
ting the metal side of the bed, and was astonished by the
pleasant feeling. It enraged him even more. The really mad-
dening thing was how simply he had goaded himself into
the hospital.
He'd locked up his drygoods store and driven home for
lunch. Nothing unusual about that; he did it every day.
With his miserable digestion, he couldn't stand the restau-
rant food in town. He pulled into the driveway, rode over
a collection of metal shapes his son Amold had left lying
around, and punctured a tire.
"Rital" he yelled. "This is going too damned farl Where
is that brat?"
"In here," she called truculently from the kitchen.
He kicked open the screen door. His foot went through
the mesh,
"A ripped tire and a torn screen!" he shouted at Arnold,
who was sprawled in angular adolescence over a blueprint
on the kitchen table. "You'll pay for them, by God! They're
coming out of your allowance!"
"I'm sorry. Pop," the boy said.
"Sorry, my left foot," Mrs. Stone shrieked. She whirled
on her husband. "You could have watched where you were
going. He promised to clean up his things from the drive-
way right after lunch. And it's about time you stopped kick-
ing open the door every time you're mad."
"Mad? Who wouldn't be mad? Me hoping he'd get out
of school and come into the store, and he wants to be an
engineer. An engineerand he can't even make change
when hehahlhelps me out in the store!"
"He'll be whatever he wants to be," she screamed in the
conversational tone of the Stone household.
"Please," said Arnold. "I can't concentrate on this plan."
Edgar Stone was never one to restrain an angry impulse.
He tore up the blueprint and flung the pieces down on the
table.
"Aw, Pop," the boy said.
"Don't say 'Aw, Pop' to me. You're not going to waste
a summer vacation on junk like this. You'll eat your lunch
and come down to the store. And youll do it every day for
the rest of the summer!"
"Oh, he will, will he?" demanded Mrs. Stone. "He'll catch
up on his studies. And as for you, you can go back and eat
in a restaurant."
"You know I can't stand that slopi"
"You'll eat it because you're not having lunch here any
more. I've got enough to do without making three meals a
day."
"But I can't drive back with that tire"
He did, though not with the tirehe took a cab. It cost
a dollar plus tip, lunch was a dollar and a half plus tip,
bicarb at Rite Drug Store a few doors away and in a great
hurry came to another fifteen centsonly it didn't work.
And then Miss Ellis came in for some material. Miss Ellis
could round out any miserable day. She was fifty, tall,
skinny and had thin, disapproving lips. She had a sliver
of cloth clipped very meagerly o& a hem that she intended
to use as a sample.
"The arms of the slipcover on my reading chair wore
through," she informed him. "I bought the material here,
if you remember."
Stone didn't have to look at the fragmentary swatch.
"That was about seven years ago"
"Six-and-a-half," she corrected. "I paid enough for it.
You'd expect anything that expensive to last."
"The style was discontinued. I have something here
that-"
"I do not want to make an entire slipcover, Mr. Stonp. All
I want is enough to make new panels for the arms. Two
yards should do very nicely."
Stone smothered a bilious hiccup. "Two yards, Miss
Ellis?"
"At the most."
"I sold the last of that material years ago." He pulled
a bolt off a shelf and partly unrolled it for her. "Why not
use a different pattern as a kind of contrast?"
"I want this same pattern," she said, her thin lips getting
even thinner and more obstinate.
"Then I'll have to order it and hope one of my wholesalers
still has some of it in stock."
"Not without looking for it first right here, you won't
order it for me. You can't know all these materials you
have on these shelves."
Stone felt all the familiar symptoms of furythe sudden
pulsing of the temples, the lurch and bump of his heart as
adrenalin came surging in like the tide at the Firth of Forth,
the quivering of his hands, the angry shout pulsing at his
vocal cords from below.
"Ill take a look. Miss Ellis," he said.
She was president of the Ladies Cultural Society and
dominated it so thoroughly that the members would go
clear to the next town for their dry goods, rather than
deal with him, if he offended this sour stick of stubbornness.
If Stone's life insurance salesman had been there, he
would have tried to keep Stone from climbing the ladder
that ran around the three walls of the store. He probably
wouldn't have been in time. Stone stamped up the ladder
to reach the highest shelves, where there were scraps of
bolts. One of them might have been the remnant of the
material Miss Ellis had bought six-and-a-half years ago. But
Stone never found out.
He snatched one, glaring down meanwhile at the top of
Miss Ellis's head, and the ladder skidded out from under
him. He felt his skull collide with the counter. He didn't feel
it hit the floor.
"God damn iti" Stone yelled. "You could at least turn on
the lights."
"There, there, Edgar. Everything's fine, just fine."
It was his wife's voice and the tone was so uncommonly
soft and soothing that it scared him into a panic.
"What's wrong with me?" he asked piteously. "Am I
blind?"
"How many fingers am I holding up?" a man wanted to
know.
Stone was peering into the blackness. All he could see
before his eyes was a vague blot against a darker blot.
"None," he bleated. "Who are you?"
"Dr. Rankin. That was a nasty fall you had, Mr. Stone
concussion of course, and a splinter of bone driven into
the brain. I had to operate to remove it."
"Then you cut out a nervel" Stone said. "You did some-
thing to my eyes!"
The doctor's voice sounded puzzled. "There doesn't seem
to be anything wrong with them. I'll take a look, though,
and see."
"Youll be all right, dear," Mrs. Stone said reassuringly, but
she didn't sound as if she believed it.
"Sure you will. Pop," said Amold.
"Is that young stinker here?" Stone demanded. "He's the
cause of all this!"
"Temper, temper," the doctor said. "Accidents happen."
Stone heard him lower the Venetian blinds. As if they
had been a switch, light sprang up and everything in the
hospital became brightly visible.
"Welll" said Stone. "That's more like it. It's night and
you're trying to save electricity, hey?"
"It's broad daylight. Edgar dear," his wife protested. "All
Dr. Rankin did was lower the blinds and"
 "Please," the doctor said. "If you don't mind, T'd rather
take care of any explanations that have to be made."
He came at Stone with an ophthalmoscope. When he
flashed it into Stone's eyes, everything went black and Stone
let him know it vociferously.
"Black?" Dr. Rankin repeated blankly. "Are you positive?
Not a sudden glare?"
"Black," insisted Stone. "And what's the idea of putting
me in a bed filled with bread crumbs?"
"It was freshly made"
"Crumbs. You heard me. And the pillow has rocks in it."
"What else is bothering you?" asked the doctor worriedly.
"It's freezing in here." Stone felt the terror rise in him
again. "It was summer when I fell off the ladder. Don't tell
me I've been unconscious clear through till winter!"
"No, Pop," said Arnold. "That was yesterday"
"I'll take care of this," Dr. Rankin said firmly. "I'm afraid
you and your son will have to leave, Mrs. Stone. I have to
do a few tests on your husband."
"Will he be all right?" she appealed.
"Of course, of course," he said inattentively, peering with
a frown at the shivering patient. "Shock, you know," he
added vaguely.
"Gosh, Pop," said Amold, "1m sorry this happened. I got
the driveway all cleaned up."
"And we'll take care of the store till you're better," Mrs.
Stone promised.
"Don't you darel" yelled Stone. "Youll put me out of
business!"
The doctor hastily shut the door on them and came back
to the bed. Stone was clutching the light summer blanket
around himself. He felt colder than he'd ever been in his
life.
"Can't you get me more blankets?" he begged. "You don't
want me to die of pneumonia, do you?"
Dr. Rankin opened the blinds and asked, "What's this
like?"
"Night," chattered Stone. "A new idea to save electricity
booking up the blinds to the light switch?"
The doctor closed the blinds and sat down beside the
bed. He was sweating as he reached for the signal button
and pressed it. A nurse came in, blinking in their direction.
"Why don't you turn on the light?" she asked.
"Hub?" said Stone. "They are."
"Nurse, I'm Dr. Rankin. Get me a piece of sandpaper,
some cotton swabs, an ice cube and Mr. Stone's lunch."
"Is there anything he shouldn't eat?"
"That's what I want to find out. Hurry, please."
"And some blankets," Stone put in, shaking with the chill.
"Blankets, Doctor?" she asked, startled.
"Half a dozen will do," he said. "I think."
It took her ten minutes to return with all the items. Stone
wanted them to keep adding blankets until all seven were
on him. He still felt cold.
"Maybe some hot coffee?" he suggested.
The doctor nodded and the nurse poured a cup, added
the spoon and a half of sugar he requested, and he took a
mouthful. He sprayed it out violently,
"Ice cold!" he yelped. "And who put salt in it?"
"Salt?" She fumbled around on the tray. "It's so dark
here"
"I'll attend to it," Dr. Rankin said hurriedly. "Thank you."
She walked cautiously to the door and went out.
"Try this," said the doctor, after filling another cup.
"Well, that's better!" Stone exclaimed. "Damned practical
joker. They shouldn't be allowed to work in hospitals."
"And now, if you don't mind," said the doctor, "I'd like
to try several tests."
Stone was still angry at the trick played on him, but he
cooperated willingly.
Dr. Rankin finally sagged back in the chair. The sweat
ran down his face and into his collar, and his expression
was so dazed that Stone was alarmed.
"What's wrong. Doctor? Am I going togoing to"
"No, no. It's not that. No danger. At least, I don't believe
there is. But I can't even be sure of that any more."
"You can't be sure if I'll live or die?"
"Look." Dr. Rankin grimly pulled the chair closer. "It's
broad daylight and yet you can't see until I darken the
room. The coffee was hot and sweet, but it was cold and
salty to you, so I added an ice cube and a spoonful of salt
and it tasted fine, you said. This is one of the hottest days
on record and you're freezing. You told me the sandpaper
felt smooth and satiny, then yelled that somebody had put
pins in the cotton swabs, when there weren't any, of course.
I've tried you with different colors around the room and
you saw violet when you should have seen yellow, green
for red, orange for blue, and so on. Now do you under-
stand?"
"No," said Stone frightenedly. "What's wrong?"
"All I can do is guess. I had to remove that sliver of bone
from your brain. It apparently shorted your sensory nerves."
"And what happened?"
"Every one of your senses has been reversed. You feel
cold for heat, heat for cold, smooth for rough, rough for
smooth, sour for sweet, sweet for sour, and so forth. And
you see colors backward."
Stone sat up. "Murderer! Thief! You've ruined mel"
The doctor sprang for a hypodermic and sedative. Just
in time, he changed his mind and took a bottle of stimulant
instead. It worked fine, though injecting it into his scream-
ing, thrashing patient took more strength than he'd known
he owned. Stone fell asleep immediately.
There were nine blankets on Stone and he had a bag of
cement for a pillow when he had his lawyer, Manny Lubin,
in to hear the charges he wanted brought against Dr. Ran-
kin. The doctor was there to defend himself. Mrs. Stone
was present in spite of her husband's objections"She al-
ways takes everybody's side against me," he explained in a
roar.
"I'll  be  honest  with  you,  Mr.  Lubin,"  the  doctor  said,
after Stone had finished on a note of shrill frustration. "I've
hunted for cases like this in medical history and this is the
first one ever to be reported. Except," he amended quickly,
"that I haven't reported it yet. I'm hoping it reverses it-
self. That sometimes happens, you know."
"And what am I supposed to do in the meantime?"
raged Stone. "I'll have to go out wearing an overcoat in
the summer and shorts in the winterpeople will think I'm
a maniac. And they'll be sure of it because I'll have to keep
the store closed during the day and open at night1 can't
see except in the dark. And matching materials! I can't
stand the feel of smooth cloth and I see colors backward!"
He glared at the doctor before turning back to Lubin. "How
would you like to have to put sugar on your food and salt
in your coffee?"
"But we'll work it out, Edgar dear," his wife soothed. "Ar-
nold and I can take care of the store. You always wanted
him to come into the business, so that ought to please you"
"As long as I'm there to watch him!"
"And Dr. Rankin said maybe things will straighten out."
"What about that. Doctor?" asked Lubin. "What are the
chances?"
Dr. Rankin looked uncomfortable. "I don't know. This
has never happened before. All we can do is hope."
"Hope, nothing!" Stone stormed. "I want to sue him. He
had no right to go meddling around and turn me upside
' down. Any jury would give me a quarter of a million!"
"I'm no millionaire, Mr, Stone," said the doctor.
"But the hospital has money. We'll sue him and the
trustees."
There was a pause while the attorney thought. "I'm
afraid we wouldn't have a case, Mr. Stone." He went on
more rapidly as Stone sat up, shivering, to argue loudly.
"It was an emergency operation. Any surgeon would have
had to operate. Am I right, Dr. Rankin?"
The doctor explained what would have happened if he
had not removed the pressure on the brain, resulting from
the concussion, and the danger that the bone splinter, if
not extracted, might have gone on traveling and caused
possible paralysis or death.
"That would be better than this," said Stone.
"But medical ethics couldn't allow him to let you die,"
Lubin objected. "He was doing his duty. That's point one."
"Mr. Lubin is absolutely right, Edgar," said Mrs. Stone.
"There, you see?" screamed her husband. "Everybody's
right but me! Will you get her out of here before I have
a stroke?"
"Her interests are also involved," Lubin pointed out.
"Point two is that the emergency came first, the aftereffects
couldn't be knovyn or considered."
Dr. Rankin brightened. "Any operation involves risk, even
the excising of a corn. I had to take those risks."
"You had to take them?" Stone scoffed. "All right, what
are you leading up to, Lubin?"
"We'd lose," said the attorney.
Stone subsided, but only for a moment. "So well lose. But
if we sue, the publicity would ruin him. I want to sue!"
"For what, Edgar dear?" his wife persisted. "Well have a
hard enough time managing. Why throw good money after
bad?"
"Why didn't I marry a woman who'd take my side, even
when I'm wrong?" moaned Stone. "Revenge, that's what.
And he won't be able to practice, so hell have time to find
out if there's a cure . . . and at no charge, eitheri I won't
pay him another cent I"
The doctor stood up eagerly. "But I'm willing to see what
can be done right now. And it wouldn't cost you anything,
naturally."
"What do you mean?" Stone challenged suspiciously.
"If I were to perform another operation, I'll be able to
see which nerves were involved. There's no need to go into
the technical side right now, but it is possible to connect
nerves. Of course, there are a good many, which complicates
matters, especially since the splinter went through several
layers"
Lubin pointed a lawyer's impaling finger at him. "Are
you offering to attempt to correct the injurygratis?"
"Certainly. I mean to say, I'll do my absolute best. But
keep in mind, please, that there is no medical precedent."
The attorney, however, was already questioning Stone
and his wife. "In view of the fact that we have no legal
grounds whatever for suit, does this offer of settlement
satisfy your claim against him?"
"Oh, yesi" Mrs. Stone cried.
Her husband hesitated for a while, clearly tempted to
take the opposite position out of habit. "I guess so," he re-
luctantly agreed.
"Well, then, it's in your hands. Doctor," said Lubin.
Dr. Rankin buzzed excitedly for the nurse. "I'll have him
prepared for surgery right away."
"It better work this time," warned Stone, clutching a
handful of ice cubes to warm his fingers.
Stone came to foggily. He didn't know it, but he had
given the anesthetist a bewildering problem, which finally
had been solved by using fumes of aromatic spirits of am-
monia. The four blurred figures around the bed seemed to
be leaning precariously toward him.
"Pop!" said Arnold. "Look, he's coming out of iti Popi"
"Speak to me, Edgar dear," Mrs. Stone beseeched.
Lubin said, "See how he is, Doctor."
"He's fine," the doctor insisted heartily, his usual bed-
side manner evidently having returned. "He must bethe
blinds are open and he's not complaining that it's dark or
that he's cold." He leaned over the bed. "How are we feel-
ing, Mr. Stone?"
It took a minute or two for Stone to move his swollen
tongue enough to answer. He wrinkled his nose in disgust.
"What smells purple?" he demanded.