Opalescent

(4) Sonder

A/N As promised, here's the August 30th installment! A huge thank-you goes out to the people who've favorited or reviewed this story so far, your feedback means so much to me and please keep it coming if you can!

Also, just sayin', the second sentence of the second paragraph down there is probably my favorite out of the entire story so far ^_^

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\ˈsän-dər\ (noun) The realization that each passerby has a life as vivid and complex as your own.

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Sometime in October, Opal got a call from Ms. O about a medical condition with Oksana.

Literally, one of the loudest calls from the boss she'd ever gotten. "DR. O! IN THE BREAK ROOM! NOW! ! !" came the shout, so loud it reverberated around headquarters for another two weeks before finding its way out to fly south for the winter. Unable to hold back a yelp, Opal dropped her stethoscope and nearly knocked her teddy bear patient off the bed. "Apologies, Mx. Bear!" she said quickly, stabling their tottering form with one hand and scooping up her stethoscope to deposit it back around her neck with the other, before dashing out to the stairs. "Did someone call for a doctor?" she said moments later as she entered the Break Room, back to her normal professional composure.

She was met by Ms. O, standing in front of the infinite table, with Oksana seated in one of the chairs next to her. "Oh, there's a problem, alright," the boss said. "Tell her, Oksana."

The Kitchen Head locked eyes with Opal in that disconcerting way she did with everybody. "My hands are making this noise." She held them up, and sure enough a loud "AAAAAIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!" sounded.

Opal blinked once, but otherwise didn't react. "Ah yes, I've seen this before. Oksana, how many meals did you make this morning?"

"One thousand."

"Were they all the same?"

"No," Oksana answered, narrowing her eyes. "You agents don't like it when your breakfast is the same as the agent's next to you. Makes my job difficult."

Opal ignored the comment. "How long have you been making different meals for all one thousand agents?"

"Since you agents demanded variety several years back."

"I see. Do you think you could make me a grilled reuben sandwich?"

Before Oksana could open her mouth the hands aaaaaiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeed again, but this time of their own accord. Ms. O jumped in surprise.

"That's what I thought." She nodded a few times. "Oksana, your body is exhibiting a common stress reaction known as corporis quiritatus, in which the part of your body experiencing the most stress literally screams for help and refuses to do whatever caused it to feel so stressed in the first place."

Ms. O didn't look too happy about that. "But I need Oksana to be able to work!" she insisted. "Is there a cure, Dr. O?"

"Oh yes. There's an easy part and a difficult part, however. The easy part is calming her hands, which can be done simply by painting their entire surface with a coat of mockingbird egg whites, a coat of lime juice cordial, a coat of pureed rutabagas, a coat of liquefied Tiggle breath, and a coat of unicorn tears, afterwards wiping off the coatings with a special towelette made of Saffron Slimer fronds. Should only take about six and a half hours."

Oksana stared in disbelief and wrinkled her nose. "What's the hard part?"

"Changing your meal routine. You'll have to go back to preparing the same meal for every agent."