Chapter 26 - Frenesi.

That’s when Justin observed something that made even less sense. Because just as he was about to head into the passage himself, something truly astounding happened. Something that he couldn’t actually have seen, to be honest. Something impossible.

That’s when his lover, Brian Kinney, the man whom he’d been sleeping with for almost a month, simply disappeared from in front of Justin’s very eyes.

“Holy Applesauce!” Justin exclaimed when he finally remembered how to speak again.

Had what he’d just seen actually happened? Brian couldn’t have just disappeared like that. Could he? Justin did a double and then triple take, scanning the alleyway to make sure that his boyfriend really wasn’t there and he’d simply overlooked him somehow. But, nope; Brian was definitely gone. How, though? Where could he possibly have gone, and how, when there didn’t appear to be any exit near the spot where Brian had been standing?

As far as Justin could tell, there wasn’t anything special about Duckett’s Passage. It was your typical London alleyway. It was narrow, lined on both sides by tall brick buildings, paved with cobbles just like any other street or walkway, and at this time of the evening was only occupied by a few random crates, some rubbish, the occasional rain barrel, and way down at the far end, a stray house cat. There wasn’t anything about this place that stood out as unique in any way. If anything, it was a little boring, especially as there didn’t appear to be any interesting nooks or other openings off the long, mostly straight passageway.

Just to make sure, though, Justin cautiously made his own way into the dark, mysterious alley. He walked along, step by cautious step, expecting at every second to come across something extraordinary. He passed by only one set of double doors on the left-hand side of the passage, about ten meters in, and that was it for possible exits as far as he could see. Beyond that, the rest of the wall seemed blank for quite a ways. The only other feature he could see that stood out at all was a small irregularity in the brickwork between two buildings resulting in a crooked little ledge of sorts that stood out by not more than six inches. Other than that the alley seemed unremarkable.

Maybe there was a hidden door he hadn’t noticed from where he’d been standing out in the high street? Maybe there was a carefully camouflaged exit leading off the alley somewhere? A trapdoor leading down into the underground? Anything that would rationally explain what Justin thought he’d seen? But, no. There was nothing. Nothing at all out of the ordinary.

Proceeding down the middle of the space, Justin walked at least fifty meters down the alley, finding nothing near the section of alley where Brian had last been seen. No door, no exit, nothing. He was sure he’d gone beyond the spot where he’d seen Brian standing when the man had disappeared. So Justin turned around and walked back. Still nothing. He was too stubborn and intrigued to give up just yet, though. There HAD to be some explanation. There just had to be. People didn’t just disappear like that.

He stopped when he got back to the entrance of the alley and tried to think about exactly what he’d seen. Brian had been about there - just in front of where that little ledge was - when he popped out of existence. And from what Justin remembered, he’d also seemed to be standing closer to the left-hand wall. There had to be something special about that one little section of the alley. Justin carefully made his way back to that area, moving over so he was only a foot or so from the wall, and then slowing his steps so he could carefully scan every inch of the brickwork. But he still didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

When he was only about a foot or so away from the little ledge, he reached out with one hand to feel along the bricks. Maybe there was a hidden door? Maybe it only looked like a brick wall? It certainly felt like solid brick, though.

But, as his hand inched slowly along the brickwork, that’s when the most extraordinary thing that Justin had ever experienced happened.

Justin’s hand disappeared.

In a total panic, he quickly snatched his hand back and the missing limb miraculously reappeared.

“What the . . . hurricane!” Justin was so shocked he’d almost cursed.

With his other hand, Justin probed the hand that had temporarily disappeared from sight. It didn’t feel any different than normal. It felt solid. He could move the fingers around without any difficulty. And he could now see the hand perfectly. It clearly wasn’t his hand that was the problem; it was something to do with that wall.

Once again Justin slid his hand along the bricks until the tips of his fingers dematerialized in front of his very face. He gulped but continued the forward motion, resulting in even more of his hand disappearing from view. Even though he could no longer see the appendage, he could still feel the bricks beneath his fingers. He could feel his fingers wiggling. He pulled the hand back again, and once more it seemed perfectly normal. So he stuck even more of his hand through the invisible plane where things seemed to disappear, pressing forward until his whole arm clear past his elbow was gone, before pulling it back to make sure it wasn’t damaged in any way. It seemed fine.

“This is impossible!” Justin announced to nobody in particular. “This can NOT be happening. Arms don’t just disappear. Boyfriends don’t just disappear.”

However, when Justin stuck his hand out in front of him one more time, and it disappeared again, he had to admit that it was, seemingly, possible. It was also clear that the only explanation for his disappearing boyfriend must be that Brian had somehow gone through this . . . whatever it was . . . This place of disappearances. This invisible door to somewhere else.

And even though Justin was still angry at Brian, he couldn’t help but be worried that the man he loved had somehow been sucked into this Hole of Oblivion. He couldn’t let Brian go through that alone. What if Brian was hurt somewhere on the other side of this nothingness? What if he was trapped there and couldn’t get back? Brian didn’t seem to be much of a fighter and he was always getting hurt, so it followed that, if there was anything dangerous on the other side of that - whatever it was - his placid boyfriend might be in serious trouble. Justin simply had to go through as well and try to save Brian from whatever this anomaly was.

So, mentally gathering all his courage about him, Justin took a deep breath and dived headfirst through the Hole of Nothingness into the unknown beyond . . .

. . . Only to land face first on the very same cobbles in the very same alleyway he’d been standing in before.

Or at least that’s what it seemed like at first glance. But as Justin picked himself up off the ground and began to dust off his trousers, he started to notice subtle differences between this alley and the one he’d just been standing in. Differences that convinced him something sinister was going on here.

For one thing, this alley was brightly lit up by several light fixtures along both sides all down its length. Which wasn’t at all proper when London was under strict blackout rules. Didn’t these folks know that any lights might lead the Gerries’ bombs right to their doors? Looking up at the narrow strip of sky above the alley, he noted how bright the entire area seemed; there had to be a lot of lights around to make that kind of glow. What was going on with that?

And there were other equally subtle differences here. The alleyway itself seemed somehow cleaner - the cobbles looked like they’d been washed off and even the bricks of the walls seemed less grungy. The stacks of crates and small piles of rubbish he’d noted before we’re all gone. And even the lights themselves looked different - brighter perhaps?

While he spun slowly in place, looking around him and trying to determine exactly what was going on, Justin eventually turned far enough so that he was facing the entrance to Duckett’s Passage. And there, right at the entrance, framed against the brighter backdrop of the high street by the tall walls on either side, stood a familiar figure. It was Brian! Thank goodness; Justin had found him!

“Brian!” he hollered, breaking into a sprint down the passageway towards his man.

Brian looked up when he heard his name being called. He seemed a bit dazed by Justin’s appearance and maybe a little disoriented too. Applesauce! Justin had been right to worry about Brian getting hurt. He just hoped his boyfriend wasn’t too badly injured.

“Brian! I’m so glad I found you! Are you okay? How badly are you hurt?” Justin questioned as he ran up to the clearly confused man.

“Justin? What . . . What’s going on? How . . . How did you get here?” Brian stuttered, obviously even more confounded than Justin was himself.

“I was following you, thinking you were headed back to the pub; I wanted to finish our discussion, and then I saw you turn in to this alley,” Justin started to explain. “But before I could catch up to you, you got sucked into that Hole of Oblivion back there. I was so scared for you, Brian. It took me a few minutes to figure it out, but I came after you as soon as I could.”

Brian still seemed befuddled, poor man. Justin couldn’t see any obvious injuries, but judging by the ongoing confusion, Brian might have hit his head or something. He seemed to be standing on his own alright, though, so at least he was mobile. Justin thought perhaps a trip to see a doctor might not be out of line.

“It’s gonna be okay, Brian. I’m here with you and we're in this together,” Justin tried to reassure his man, wrapping his arms around Brian’s waist and hugging him tightly. “Now, I’m not sure exactly what’s going on here - I suspect that . . . thing . . . back there might be some kind of new Gerry technology or something - but whatever it is, we both seem to be in one piece. Let me just get you somewhere safe and then I’ll find a phone and report in to my CO and they’ll send someone to come figure this whole thing out. Okay?”

“Justin . . .” Brian was struggling to get loose from Justin’s arms, but Justin wasn’t going to let him go - not when the man still seemed so off kilter.

“Hush now, Brian. It’s going to be okay. Just let me handle things, alright?”

Justin gave his boyfriend one last squeeze and then stepped back, turning to venture out of the alley towards the street.

“Justin, wait. You can’t . . .”

Brian grabbed for him but Justin was already too far away. He had stepped out of the relative darkness of the alley into the almost blinding lights of the high street before he realized that, wherever he was, this was certainly NOT the London he’d been in just a few minutes earlier, before he’d stepped into that alley to follow Brian. Whatever this place was, it was . . . it was crazy!

From where Justin was standing on the sidewalk right in front of Duckett’s Passage, he could see quite a ways up and down the high street. But the street he was looking at held very little resemblance to the street Justin knew. The buildings were all there still and, for the most part, they looked the same as he remembered, but the rest was completely transformed.

The first thing Justin noticed was that there was so much light. Everything was lit up - the buildings, the street lights, the windows, the signs on the shops, even the vehicles moving along the road in front of him. Everything was so bright. After living for the past six months or so in the relative darkness of a wartime blackout, this much light at night seemed frightening. It was like a kaleidoscope of lights and colors and bright flashes of every sort. It was overwhelming.

But even beyond the mere light, the things he saw on the street itself were surprising. There were so many people out and about. He wasn’t used to seeing that many people on the streets at night. Most folks these days tended to get indoors early - with the blackout, the streets were dark and not really safe - plus most folks were either at home with their families eating dinner or working for the war effort or otherwise too busy to be strolling around the streets, aimlessly, like this.

Beyond the busy-ness of all the people, there also seemed to be an inordinate number of vehicles driving through the streets. Justin was used to most vehicles these days being commandeered for military or government use. And even the delivery vans and other cars he was used to seeing wouldn’t be out this late in the evening. But here, now, there were what looked like dozens of cars just zooming along every which way. And they were such odd looking cars too. Justin had never seen such strange vehicles - brightly painted in stunning colors like red and yellow and bright white, with too many, intricately shaped lights on them, and their chassis all rounded and curved in ways he’d never seen on a vehicle before.

And along with the vehicles came all the noise. These kinds of cars seemed very loud. There was a general hubbub of motors rumbling along pretty much all around him, emphasized by the honking of car horns, the squeaking of brakes, and the metallic slamming of car doors. The people seemed to be adding to the ruckus; all talking and shouting and laughing loudly. There was more noise - some kind of loud music - coming out of the bar on the corner behind him. There was even music coming out of the cars that were driving past him. Everywhere around him there was noise. It was almost as deafening as those times he’d been caught up in an air raid; that’s how loud it seemed to Justin.

Even the smells around him seemed wrong. The air didn’t have the same coal and wood smoke taste to it as he was used to. It had a chemical odor - probably from all these strange vehicles - that reminded him of the stench that pervaded the airfields he flew out of. On top of that there were enticing and foreign aromas wafting out from the pub behind him, as well as other shops along the street; smells that made him think of good things to eat and caused his mouth to water.

Everything, the smells, the sights, the sounds - it was all so alien here.

“What . . . What is this place?” he muttered as he stared, wide eyed and mouth hanging open, at all the strangeness around him.

“You shouldn’t be here, Justin,” Brian’s voice piped up from behind him. “I need to get you back. Come on. Let’s go.”

Brian had grabbed hold of Justin’s elbow and started to tug him back into the alley. Justin didn’t budge. He felt transfixed in place; held in limbo by the bizarre and wonderful scene enfolding him. This place - whatever it was - seemed almost magical. It was like the Walt Disney movie he’d seen a few months back - Fantasia. Like someone had taken the London he’d been living in for months, sprinkled it with magic and made it come to life with sound and light and color and music that didn’t normally belong there. What he was seeing here, now, almost made Justin believe in magic himself.

“No, Brian. Stop. We have to . . . We have to find out what’s going on here. We have to tell military command about . . . about whatever THIS is. I can’t go back until I  . . . until I . . .” Justin shrugged off Brian’s hand and took another step forward towards the magical chaos in the street. “This has to be a German plot. Maybe they’ve hit the city with mind altering drugs or something. I don’t know. It can’t be real, though . . .”

“Justin. Justin, please come on. Justin . . . It’s not a fucking German plot, damn it! Let’s just get the hell out of here already. You shouldn’t be here. Please, Justin,” Brian was pleading, still trying to pull him away into the alley.

But Justin wasn’t buying it. There was something seriously wrong here and he was going to figure it out. If it wasn’t the Germans doing this, then there must be some other serious anomaly at work and he needed to get a handle on it so he could report back to his commander. Whatever it was, it could be dangerous, and the government would need to be told so they could counteract it. He wasn’t going anywhere till he’d figured this out . . . whatever THIS was.

With one vicious tug, he freed his arm from Brian’s grasp. Unfortunately that effort unbalanced Justin enough that he stumbled several steps backwards and, after teetering on the curb for a moment, fell into the street right in the path of one of the outlandishly shaped vehicles. There was the sound of a car horn blaring and brakes screeching and then Justin felt a large weight slamming into his side. And then the world of too-bright lights and too-loud sounds and odd smells whirled around and around his head before it all went black.

“It looks like he’s starting to come around,” the A&E doctor announced to a hovering Brian Kinney. “He’s been unconscious for more than fifteen minutes now, which would normally have me worried, but the rest of the indications I’m seeing make me hopeful that there won’t be any serious, permanent damage. He’s responding well to stimuli.” The doctor poked a sharp instrument into Justin‘s forearm causing the muscle to twitch. “And his pupils appear to be reacting within normal parameters,” he added while holding one eyelid open and flashing a small penlight at the blue orb inside. “Of course, we’ll still need to assess him further once he’s fully conscious but, barring unforeseen complications, I think your boyfriend will come out of this with only a mild concussion. He’s a lucky man.”

“Thanks, doc,” Brian answered, more than happy to hear such great news.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes. If you need anything in the meantime, just call one of the nurses,” the doctor said, offering a professional nod to Brian as he slipped out through the curtain that enclosed Justin’s bed.

Brian sighed with relief. He had been so fucking scared when he’d seen Justin go down under the bumper of the car that hit him. Thank fuck it was only one of those ridiculously small, electric go-cart cars instead of a bus or lorry. Still, it had been bad enough to knock the young man out and necessitate a trip to the hospital.

Brian noticed that the blond was beginning to stir a little and he raised the hand he hadn’t let go of since they got out of the ambulance to his lips for a kiss. “Hey there, Blue Eyes. You with us again? Come on. Open up those pretty blue peepers of yours so I know you’re going to be okay.”

“Brian?” The voice was a little raspy but the fact Justin had recognized Brian’s voice was a good sign.

“Yeah. It’s me, kiddo. How are you feeling?”

Justin started to open his eyes and then moaned. “Headache,” he complained, lifting his arm to cover his face, blocking the light.

“Well, you’re lucky that’s all you’ve got after walking out into the street in front of a fucking car, you twat,” Brian groused, unable to hold back the tinge of annoyance from his tone.

“Knock, knock,” one of the overly cheerful A&E nurses interrupted. The woman, who was dressed in colorful, floral-print scrubs, bustled officiously into the tiny cubicle. “How are we doing in here?”

“He’s awake but he says his head hurts,” Brian answered for the patient.

“That’s pretty common for concussions,” the nurse stated as she proceeded to wrap a blood pressure cuff around Justin’s arm. After taking that reading, swiping a digital thermometer across the boy’s forehead and taking a quick listen to his chest with her stethoscope, she added, “unfortunately, we can’t administer any pain meds until we’re done assessing you for the TBI. And the doctor is probably going to want an MRI, too. So I’m afraid you’ll just have to bear with us for a bit longer, Mr. Taylor. Sorry.”

“S’okay,” Justin mumbled.

“I need to ask you a few questions to determine your cognitive state, Mr. Taylor. You think you can do that for me?” the nurse asked next.

“Yeah.”

“Can you tell me your full name, please.”

“Justin Randolph Taylor.”

“Good. And do you know today’s date?”

“Um. I think it’s still May 8th, right?”

“That’s correct. How about the name of the President of your United States?”

“Roosevelt.”

“This isn’t a good time to joke around, Justin,” Brian intervened before the nurse could get suspicious. “He thinks he’s being funny. He voted for Obama just like me, of course.”

“Okay, well . . . Then, how about, what’s your job?”

“I’m a pilot.”

Brian nodded to the nurse to let her know that was correct and it seemed to satisfy her.

“Alright. That seems to check out and all your vitals are strong. Other than the headache, how are you feeling? Any dizziness or nausea?”

“No. That’s all fine,” Justin answered.

“Blurry vision?” She asked next.

Justin moved his hand away from his face and once more peeled open his eyelids, blinking until his vision cleared.

“No, my vision seems fine . . .” Justin started to answer, but his words faltered as he continued to look around the hospital room, lines of confusion emerging on his face as he scanned the unfamiliar objects around him. “W-W-What . . .”

Brian had expected this reaction and quickly leaned forward, pretending to leave a kiss on the younger man’s cheek, while whispering a warning in his ear. “Don’t freak out. It’s okay. I’ll explain everything later. But, please, don’t freak out on me in front of the hospital people. Okay?”

“Is there something wrong, Mr. Taylor? Are you feeling any other pain besides the headache?” the concerned nurse asked.

“I . . . I don’t know . . . M-M-My arm hurts,” he finally added, indicating his right arm.

“Hmm. Can you move it for me?” The nurse proceeded to run Justin through a short exam of the sore limb, concluding that it was probably just badly bruised and nothing more serious. “Well, everything looks as good as can be expected under the circumstances. I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake and get that MRI scheduled for you. You just sit tight here for now.”

As soon as the woman had left them, pulling the curtain closed behind her, Justin turned to Brian with a demanding glare. “I thought maybe it had all been just a bad dream or something, but no . . . What the heck is going on here, Brian? Where are we? What is this place? This does NOT look like any hospital I’ve ever seen before. You said you could explain, so . . . Answer me, Brian!”

Brian sighed, tried to think of a good way to ease Justin into the situation, and then gave up. There was no good way to break this to someone. This was one of those times where you just had to yank the bandaid off as fast as possible.

“You haven’t seen anything like this because this hospital isn’t in 1941,” he responded. “You're not in 1941 anymore either, Justin. Back in that alley - that thing that happened to you, that you thought was some kind of German plot - that was just you coming forward in time. We’re now in the year 2016.”

Brian put the words out there and then simply waited for the inevitable fallout, knowing instinctively it was going to be bad.

“Ha ha, Brian. Stop kidding around. Tell me the truth, please,” Justin ordered, his arms crossed over his chest and his stare unrelenting.

“I’m afraid I’m not joking, Blue Eyes. This is 2016,” Brian reasserted.

Before he could say more though, the curtain was shoved aside once again and the doctor shouldered his way back into the little cubicle.

Brian only had time to lean down and add one more whispered warning. “I promise to explain everything later, Justin, but please, just play along for now. You don’t want the hospital staff thinking that concussion shook your brain up too much or they’ll keep you here all night. Okay?”

“Welcome back, Mr. Taylor,” the doctor greeted his patient jovially. “You certainly had a close call, didn’t you?”

“Apparently,” Justin answered, turning his glare away from Brian and towards the doctor.

“I’m Dr. Dewitt,” the doctor offered as he scanned through the chart notes the nurse had made earlier. “Everything here looks good. Except for the headache and bruising to your arm, anything else I should know about? Any disorientation, confusion or memory loss?”

“Maybe a little confusion,” Justin replied with a sideways look at Brian. “But I’m hoping it will go away eventually.”

“That’s a pretty common side effect, I’m afraid. It does usually resolve itself with time. But if you’re still having any issues on that front after two or three days, you should definitely return to the hospital. In the meantime, I’m going to send you down for an MRI, just to make sure there’s nothing else we need to be concerned about. Provided that comes back clear, though, I see no reason we can’t discharge you tonight. I’ll have the nurse give you a printout with some home care instructions and a list of warning signs to look out for. I assume you’ll be providing your boyfriend’s home care, Mr. Kinney?” The doctor looked to Brian, who nodded readily, ignoring the shocked response from Justin at hearing this stranger referring to them as ‘boyfriends’. “Good. Good. Okay, that’s all for now, then. We’ll have your discharge papers ready by the time you’re done in imaging. No alcohol and no driving or operating heavy machinery for at least seventy-two hours, but other than that, you should be fine.”

“But, I’m a pilot,” Justin interrupted, looking worriedly at the doctor. “I’m scheduled to fly tomorrow night.”

“Sorry, but that’s impossible. Aviation regulations are pretty strict on this topic, I’m afraid. The altitude and pressurization changes on top of the concussion are a really bad combination. You’ll be grounded for at least a week and will probably have to pass a second medical evaluation before you can go back up. I’ll make sure to give the nurse the correct paperwork for you to take to your employer so you can get the time off,” the doc offered. “And may I suggest you stay away from moving cars in the future, Mr. Taylor.”

“Thanks, Doctor,” Brian replied on his fuming boyfriend’s behalf, offering his hand to the doctor before the man departed.

It was another hour before they were done at the hospital and they didn’t have any real opportunity to talk in the interim. Justin was poked and prodded by a series of hospital personnel, each one then handing him off to the next in a steady stream of bureaucratic efficiency. Brian tagged along behind, refusing to be separated from his Blue Eyes, and helping to smooth over any moments of difficulty caused by the patient’s unfamiliarity with modern medical practices. For the most part, Justin simply padded along in a semi-disoriented daze, seemingly too overwhelmed by everything he was seeing to even comment on the experience.

The only really bad moment came when they finally reached the Imaging Department and the technician explained that they were going to do a magnetic scan of Justin’s brain. Justin apparently didn’t much care for that idea. The huge cylindrical machine they were going to shove him in probably didn’t help matters, even if he hadn’t been concerned about somebody messing with his brain. Brian only barely managed to talk his reluctant boyfriend into going along with the test, explaining that he’d had an MRI before himself and it was perfectly safe. The technician chimed in, stating that, if he declined the MRI scan, the doctor would definitely not let him leave the hospital that evening. That seemed to be the deciding factor; Justin submitted docility after that.

They were eventually given Justin’s discharge papers, along with a prescription bottle full of pain relievers, and told they were free to go. Brian led his charge out the front doors of the hospital and over to the taxi stand at the end of the block. Justin spent the five minutes or so while they stood there waiting for a cab staring at a pair of scantily dressed young women - one of whom had huge, dangling ear gauges, multiple piercings, and was covered with gaudy tattoos over much of her body, all of which were on display since she was wearing only an exercise bra-top, a mini-skirt that barely covered her ass, and huge, platform Doc Martins - who were so busy making out that they didn’t seem to notice anyone else around them. Brian let him stare, figuring the sight was educational as well as entertaining. After that experience, the Sikh cab driver with his bright orange turban didn’t seem to even faze the boy. Justin sat silently for the entire ride back to the hotel.

Brian grabbed hold of Justin’s hand again as they walked into the Strand Palace Hotel of 2016.

“It’s different,” was all Justin said as he looked up at the building.

“Yeah, they’ve added a couple of extra floors and changed around the facade on the front. But it’s mostly the same inside,” Brian explained, nodding to the doorman who looked just like the 1941 doorman except for a slightly more modern uniform.

At the reception desk, Brian nodded to the grinning, red-headed clerk, asked for his messages and then added as an afterthought, “do you have today’s newspaper?”

“Of course, Sir. We have the Guardian, the Daily Telegraph or, if you’d prefer, the Sunday Times. Which would you like?” the man responded with a flirty smile aimed Brian’s way.

“I don’t care. The Guardian, I guess,” Brian answered, trying not to make eye contact with the man and internally cringing at the way this former trick was coming onto him so blatantly.

No doubt Justin had probably already reached the correct conclusion about Red. Brian’s blond was sharp enough - and possessive enough - to have figured out that this was one of the men whose attentions Brian had enjoyed over the week of his ‘disappearance’. As soon as Red had handed over the newspaper, along with a stack of phone message slips, Brian fled from the desk, not even offering a cursory thank you. He hoped that, what with all the other shit going on, Justin had missed the little wink the clerk had given him. Brian had enough to deal with already without adding in that complication to their evening. Thankfully, Justin didn’t comment.

To further distract from the Red encounter, Brian handed the newspaper to his silent boyfriend while they were waiting for the elevator. “Here. Look at the date,” he ordered tersely.

Justin took the paper from Brian, unfolded it so he could see all of the front page, and focused on the date in the upper right hand corner of the header.

‘8th May 2016’, it read.

Justin continued to silently stare at that header all the way up in the elevator and all the way down the hall to Brian’s suite.

As soon as they were in the room and the door was closed behind them, though, Justin tossed the newspaper down on the bed, turned on Brian and, with an angry frown, demanded, “explain. Everything. NOW!”