Jody wasn't born blind.
His sighted childhood ended in his eighth year,
when he witnessed an accident which took the light,
and most of the laughter, for a great while.
Those pivotal few seconds of his life haunt Jody.
Now his days swirl with color.
The loss of sight was not Jody's only injury that day.
The explosion has somehow affected his mind as well.
The doctors aren't sure if it was the blast force,
the shock, or the intense light that was responsible,
but they know something is not quite right.
He has had lots of tests.
As a consequence of his injuries, Jody needs more time.
It takes him longer to come to a decision.
He sees many possible answers to every question,
and needs time to think them through.
Pressure does not help.
There are dangers to be considered.
Jody tells me his room is a portal to
other times and places. (Who am I to doubt?)
He slips through and assumes invisibility, he says.
He is safe there and he can fly, as well as see.
He always travels alone.