feet off the ground. Besides, it wasn't Judy who had found him. It was Pappy. According to Pappy, he had walked into Alfonso's room and seen his grandson "floating" near the ceiling.
Afterward, Alfonso was rushed to the hospital. Pappy repeated the story of what he had seen, but Judy and the doctors dismissed this as a figment of his imagination, saying his mind wasn't as sharp as it used to be.
One morning in the hospital, toward the end of his stay, Alfonso awoke to the sound of the chief neurologist whispering to his mother. Alfonso was tempted to open his eyes, but for some reason he didn't. The neurologist was whispering, "...And so your son is very lucky to be alive. It was a very severe coma. We use something called the Glasgow Coma Scale, which rates comas in severity on a scale from three to fifteen, with three being the worst. Alfonso experienced a level-five coma. Most patients experience considerable brain damage at that point. Alfonso's chances of partial recovery were less than twenty percent and his chances of full recoveryâwhich he somehow managedâwere barely two percent. What I can't figure out is how a mere fall from his bed could have caused such a severe coma."
"I don't know what to tell you," whispered his mother, exasperatedly.
At this point, Alfonso opened his eyes. His mother and doctor rushed over to his side and gushed over how well he was doing. There was no more discussion of what had caused the coma and Alfonso decided that, for now at least, this was for the best. It was all too scary to think about.
Quite suddenly, Alfonso's mind snapped back to the present, as the seaplane began to plunge. Loose items flew around the cabin. A book hit Bilblox in the head and he let out a shout. The plane tilted downward at an ever steeper angle. The sound of screaming engines filled the air. Lightning flashed in the windows. Alarms blared. Oxygen masks dropped from the ceiling. The overhead lights blinked off and were replaced by harsh red emergency lights. Alfonso felt weightless and then nauseous. Snej was yelling something, but it was impossible to hear her. Bilblox's seeing eye dog, Kõrgu, had apparently woken up and was now barking furiously from her kennel in the back of the plane. The plane tore downward through the clouds. The force of gravity had pinned Alfonso into his seat, but he was still able to turn his head to look out the window. It was pure white. Then, for a moment, the storm relented and he could see the rocky, snow-covered ground. It was closeâperilously closeâand Alfonso knew at that moment that they were going to crash.
CHAPTER 10
SNOWBOUND
T HE T WIN O TTER slammed into the snow with tremendous force. The plane tore apartâglass exploded into thousands of shards, the windows blew out, sections of the roof peeled away, and vast amounts of powdery snow engulfed the cabin. Finally the plane shuddered to a stop, and the loud noises of the crash were replaced by the groan of rapidly cooling metal.
Some time later, Bilblox came to. Perhaps just a few minutes had passed, or perhaps it had been hours. It was impossible to know. At first, Bilblox wondered if he had died, but then the biting cold brought him back to his senses. He tried to move his toes, and after some effort he could feel them brushing against the inside of his boots. Something trickled down his neck, and he discovered a bad gouge there. He unbuckled his seat belt and stood up gingerly. He sniffed the air for the telltale signs of smoke and fire, but felt only the sting of a bitterly cold wind.
"Alfonso?! Snej?!"
No response.
Bilblox groped his way forward. It was at moments like this one, in the thick of a crisis, that he most hated being blind. He felt so helpless. Even without his eyesight, Bilblox could sense that the plane was basically level. Inside the remains of the plane's cabin, chunks of foam, sheared-off metal, shards of glass, and other detritus from the crash littered the floor.
Afterward, Alfonso was rushed to the hospital. Pappy repeated the story of what he had seen, but Judy and the doctors dismissed this as a figment of his imagination, saying his mind wasn't as sharp as it used to be.
One morning in the hospital, toward the end of his stay, Alfonso awoke to the sound of the chief neurologist whispering to his mother. Alfonso was tempted to open his eyes, but for some reason he didn't. The neurologist was whispering, "...And so your son is very lucky to be alive. It was a very severe coma. We use something called the Glasgow Coma Scale, which rates comas in severity on a scale from three to fifteen, with three being the worst. Alfonso experienced a level-five coma. Most patients experience considerable brain damage at that point. Alfonso's chances of partial recovery were less than twenty percent and his chances of full recoveryâwhich he somehow managedâwere barely two percent. What I can't figure out is how a mere fall from his bed could have caused such a severe coma."
"I don't know what to tell you," whispered his mother, exasperatedly.
At this point, Alfonso opened his eyes. His mother and doctor rushed over to his side and gushed over how well he was doing. There was no more discussion of what had caused the coma and Alfonso decided that, for now at least, this was for the best. It was all too scary to think about.
Quite suddenly, Alfonso's mind snapped back to the present, as the seaplane began to plunge. Loose items flew around the cabin. A book hit Bilblox in the head and he let out a shout. The plane tilted downward at an ever steeper angle. The sound of screaming engines filled the air. Lightning flashed in the windows. Alarms blared. Oxygen masks dropped from the ceiling. The overhead lights blinked off and were replaced by harsh red emergency lights. Alfonso felt weightless and then nauseous. Snej was yelling something, but it was impossible to hear her. Bilblox's seeing eye dog, Kõrgu, had apparently woken up and was now barking furiously from her kennel in the back of the plane. The plane tore downward through the clouds. The force of gravity had pinned Alfonso into his seat, but he was still able to turn his head to look out the window. It was pure white. Then, for a moment, the storm relented and he could see the rocky, snow-covered ground. It was closeâperilously closeâand Alfonso knew at that moment that they were going to crash.
CHAPTER 10
SNOWBOUND
T HE T WIN O TTER slammed into the snow with tremendous force. The plane tore apartâglass exploded into thousands of shards, the windows blew out, sections of the roof peeled away, and vast amounts of powdery snow engulfed the cabin. Finally the plane shuddered to a stop, and the loud noises of the crash were replaced by the groan of rapidly cooling metal.
Some time later, Bilblox came to. Perhaps just a few minutes had passed, or perhaps it had been hours. It was impossible to know. At first, Bilblox wondered if he had died, but then the biting cold brought him back to his senses. He tried to move his toes, and after some effort he could feel them brushing against the inside of his boots. Something trickled down his neck, and he discovered a bad gouge there. He unbuckled his seat belt and stood up gingerly. He sniffed the air for the telltale signs of smoke and fire, but felt only the sting of a bitterly cold wind.
"Alfonso?! Snej?!"
No response.
Bilblox groped his way forward. It was at moments like this one, in the thick of a crisis, that he most hated being blind. He felt so helpless. Even without his eyesight, Bilblox could sense that the plane was basically level. Inside the remains of the plane's cabin, chunks of foam, sheared-off metal, shards of glass, and other detritus from the crash littered the floor.
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