As we headed out of the class, our occasional itching not providing much reprieve, Biff hit the door jamb hard with his shoulder and started crying again. “Come with me, babe,” I said, concerned. “Let’s get somewhere private.” The lunchroom was right nearby, perfect for our needs.
I had to guide Biff to one of the tables, and even then, he still kicked a chair with his foot. I took his hand so he’d calm down, then pulled out the chair for him and guided him down into it; he still grimaced when his butt touched the chair. I sat down in one next to his. “Babe, I have a problem, all of a sudden I can’t see much, everything’s blurry!” he explained breathlessly.
“Whatever can I do? This has never happened before!”
A sudden thought came to me. “I think I know just the thing! Bear with me, this is going to seem a bit odd,” I cautioned as I brought up my purse and set it on the table.
I think he heard the snap opening as he replied, “What, are you opening up your purse!? What are you even going to do?”
“Babe, I need you to trust me right now,” I implored. I lifted out an opaque white plastic bottle and a small plastic case that was domed twice on the bottom, with a screw cap over each dome, and a mirror I had that could stand up by itself. I set all of this on the table. “Okay, try not to react, but I have a theory, and let’s see if this works. Lean in so you can see, take this contacts case, and use this mirror, try putting these into your eyes.”
“Where did these contacts come from?” he asked. “We both have perfect 20/20 vision.”
“Um, that’s not exactly true, babe,” I stated. “Come on, just try it.”
He did as prompted, and soon had both contacts in his eyes. “Ah, that’s so much better!” he exclaimed with glee and relief.
“That’s uncanny,” I noted. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think I’m looking at my own eyes. But that’s just impossible. Just as well, we have more important things to worry about. Babe, whatever you did to yourself in the classroom.. All that blood wasn’t good. You need to be more careful.”
“Blood!?” He asked with a scared look on his face. “That was blood? I felt some warm liquid running down my leg but so much was going on I didn’t have a chance to find out what it was. What’s going on, babe, what’s wrong with me?”
“I don’t know, and I really hope we don’t have to find out. Here, this bottle is used to help clean your contacts; you replace the liquid in the contacts holder every day and carefully use some to clean your contacts as well. Don’t be rough because that can make them tear.”
He took the bottle and put the contacts case in his pocket. “Okay, thanks. Let’s move on now, it hurts to sit and we have things to do.” I got up and pulled his seat back, then held out a hand to him, which he gratefully took, and I pulled him out of the chair.
Leaving the lunchroom, Biff scratching away hard at his chest, we saw Steve Farber and Tiffany Sanders just coming out of their class, much like we had just done a bit ago. Steve and Biff quickly wiped the tears from their eyes and said together, “Hey dude! Looking good,” and gave each other a cool, complex handshake. Then Biff said, “But why does Tiffany look so dumpy?”
I punched his shoulder. “Dumpy?” I asked, shocked. “What do you mean? She looks completely normal! Tiffany, babe, don’t you take anything he says to heart, he’s just being mean!”
It almost seemed like Tiffany was going to cry, but she didn’t. “Thanks, Sarah.”
I told her, “Of course, think nothing of it!” and we each headed home.
