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game next week with the Cardinals." Matty's pupils were dilatedmydriasis, a condition that could be caused by any number of factors . . . the surge of adrenalin from excitement or fear, or from drugs. Could also be a brain tumor. |
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With the ophthalmoscope he looked into Matty's eyes. Mitch was not an ophthalmologist, but his immediate impression was that there was something markedly unusual about the boy's ocular anatomy. The vascular tree of retinal vessels was swollena condition that could very well be caused by cocaine or amphetamines. But drugs could not explain the glistening, silvery nature of the pigment epitheliums. The back surface of his eye was much more reflective than normaleven for infants. It was startling. |
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Mitch kept his voice neutral. "Let's see what you can do with the lights down." He dimmed the chart light with a towel, casting a dull glow across the letters. Even with Mitch's glasses he could only make out the top two lines. The rest were a blur. |
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Matty rattled off the letters of the first three rows. |
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"Try the next to the last line." |
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That was the twenty/twenty line. To Mitch the bottom line was a smudge. |
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"O-H-P-N-T-Z," Matty said in one breath. He had twenty/fifteen vision in the dark. |
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"You'll be good for night games," Mitch said good-naturedly, but he was perplexed. The boy had the night vision of a cat. |
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He flicked the lights on. "Speaking of night games, I'm splitting a season's ticket with some friends. Maybe one night you and your dad would like to keep the seats warm for us." |
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"Eighth-row boxes right behind first-base dugout. Great place for autographs." |
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"All right!" Matty said, then his voice fell. "'Cept my dad doesn't like baseball all that much." |
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"Well, I'm sure he'd like to see a game." |
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"But he likes to work late." |
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"Well, maybe you and your mom can go." |
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Mitch kept Matty talking while he moved him from the scale to the height chart to the examination table. He listened to the boy's |
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