Message-ID: <44434asstr$1064401812@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
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From: Lazlo Zalezac <lzalezac@yahoo.com>
X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Tue, 23 Sep 2003 20:58:58 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: {ASSM} RP John Carter I 01-05 (mf mmf ffm ff mm sci-fi)
Date: Wed, 24 Sep 2003 07:10:12 -0400
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X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, IceAltar


I have received several requests to repost the first
few chapters of John Carter. Since this is my first
story and I don't have a loyal following that will
tolerate my idiosyncrasies, I have responded to those
requests with this post. I fully intend to become an
arrogant bastard in the future though. I think I've
got the arrogant part down, but I'm having a little
trouble with being a bastard.

Enjoy,
Lazlo Zalezac

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<1st attachment, "JC01-05.txt" begin>


DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. If you are offended by 
sexually explicit material or are under the age of 18, stop reading 
now. This material cannot be reproduced for commercial purposes 
without the consent of the author.



John Carter
By
Lazlo Zalezak
Copyright (C) Lazlo Zalezak, 2003



Part 1: Shield, Staff, and Compass
Chapter 1


... to cross that dark chasm that exists in heart and soul.

There must be a greater meaning to your life than you have found 
thus far. 

So screamed an angry wind that held his heart in a frigid grasp.

All he knows is what all men know. The fear of a little boy as he 
faces a larger one in a playground fight; more afraid of being 
called a coward than he is of getting hurt or losing. There is the 
pride and accomplishment that comes from building something 
new. There is the rush of power and that little thrill that comes with 
tearing down something old and rotten. There is the confusion that 
arises as a result of being asked what he feels by a woman he loves 
and the knowledge that his inability to answer arises from not 
knowing rather than an unwillingness to share. There are even 
simple things of life that define him, like the relief that spreads 
forth from his bladder when he relieves himself first thing in the 
morning.

He knows that the urge to procreate exists in every part of his mind 
and body; it colors his whole view of the world. He remembers 
that thrill felt as a young man when he actually got his first feel of 
a woman's breast even though a bra covered it. There is the 
remembrance of the embarrassment felt as a teenager when he 
would get erect in class for no reason at all; the dread that 
everyone would know of his excited state and laugh at him. There 
is that sense of rightness in how his hand fits around his cock as he 
strokes his erection while fantasizing. There is the accompanying 
unease at the chance of being caught masturbating that drives him 
to finish as quickly as possible and abort the full potential for 
pleasure that the act promises. There is that catch in the throat 
when he looks down at a woman sucking his cock and sees that she 
is looking up at him with a smile in her eyes. There is that 
indescribable pleasure of entering a woman in that most intense act 
between man and woman. He fears the devastation that would 
come from having a woman laugh at the size of his cock or ridicule 
his performance as a man. He wants to deny that day when he 
finally becomes too old or ill to get an erection and thus prays that 
day will never come.

He knelt beside the fire pit, a stone pressing into his right knee, 
irritating, but insufficient to force him to change his position. 
Ignoring his discomfort, he poked through the ashes looking for 
the dull red of a last remaining ember. In the pre-dawn light, even 
the faintest glow would stand out. Finding one, he worked it to the 
center of the pit with a small stick. He placed a small piece of dried 
moss upon the ember and blew gently. His breath coaxed the 
ember to glow a little brighter and the grayish-green moss began to 
smoke. Then, with the suddenness that always surprised him, it 
burst into a fragile flame with a weak wisp of smoke rising from it 
that was easily lost in the gray light. With the care that comes from 
long experience, he laid sticks across the wavering flame and blew 
gently as he resurrected the fire that had burned through the night. 

He rocked back until he rested buttocks on heals and gazed with 
simple pleasure at the result of his labor. He watched the steadily 
growing flame until he was satisfied that the fire needed no further 
care for the moment. 

Looking up, he watched day break over the eastern horizon; 
performing what had become a religious ritual. The unseen sun 
was lighting up the sky, painting it blue against the gray 
background that slowly spread upwards. He smiled at the lack of 
red on the horizon that according to sailor wisdom meant there 
would be no rain that day. A cold wind that lasted no more than 
three seconds disturbed the quiet air, bringing a chill that spread 
across his whole body. Every morning that wind blew through and 
he felt this indicated a magic moment. By the time the chills 
subsided, the sun broke the horizon signaling the beginning of a 
new day. 

Muscles stiff from holding the same position too long; he rose with 
great difficulty and examined the camp. From the leather case on 
his belt, he removed his compass and turning north strode fifty 
paces into the woods; chased by the barking of squirrels disturbed 
by this strange presence. He looked up and spied his orange 
backpack hanging from a rope thrown over a branch of a stately 
oak. The bright yellow of the ski tow line stood out in sharp 
contrast to the bluish gray background of the sky and the green 
leaves of the oaks. He followed the rope to where it was tied on a 
separate tree and pulled on the free end of the rope thereby 
releasing the knot. Lowering the backpack, he watched the 
swaying of the branch over which the rope hung. He marveled at 
the nature of the forces that translated his angular release into a 
gradual lessening of the forces sustaining the pack against the force 
of gravity. 

 When the pack finally reached the ground he went to it and 
retrieved the rope. He coiled the rope and replaced it in its normal 
position. Hefting it, at least ten pounds lighter now then two weeks 
ago, he deftly swung it around while slipping his arms into the 
straps. Having performed the act several times a day for the past 
month, it settled into place very naturally. 

As he walked back to camp, he took a little more time to watch the 
antics of the squirrels. Bushy tails flattened behind, ears laid back, 
and a ferocious look pasted across their faces they barked their 
displeasure at him. These truly wild animals had not seen a human 
in at least ten of their generations. Unlike their tamer brethren that 
lived in and around cities, these squirrels would not eat any bread 
that he might leave out for them.  

Reaching his camp, he set down his backpack down next to his 
bedroll and carefully opened it. There on the top was his metal cup 
and the container of coffee. He filled the cup with water from his 
canteen, added two spoons of the extremely finely ground coffee, 
and two packets of sugar. He preferred the packets of sugar as it 
simplified measurement, storage, and left waste that was easily 
burned in the fire. After burning the paper from the packets, he 
threw several handfuls of dirt upon a portion of the fire. He set the 
cup upon the dirt. The dirt would heat up and form a natural 
medium heat that would brew a very strong Greek coffee in about 
20 minutes.

Seating himself on his bedroll and next to the backpack, he 
removed his well-worn leather-bound journal. Once it had that 
fresh leather smell; now it smelled of wood smoke, leaves, and 
sweat. He opened it to the first black pages and removed the pen 
from the penholder built into the spine of the book. Checking his 
watch, he wrote:

June 21 6:45 AM

I stayed up late last night watching the stars. The night was very 
clear and the stars presented themselves in all their glory. I never 
fail to have that sense of wonder that I imagine primitive man had 
when he first stared up at the night sky and realized that the stars 
were more than just décor but were something magical. The moon 
was full and so bright that you could have read a newspaper. 
Amazing what you see when you leave the lights of the city.

Just before falling asleep, I saw a most amazing sight. Three 
meteors simultaneously raced across the sky perfectly in parallel 
with each other. They were well spaced so that I could easily tell 
which one was closest to me. The one closest to me was the 
smallest, the middle one was about twice the size of the small one, 
and the furthest was huge. There had been no meteors before that 
or afterwards. 

He took a moment to read what he had written and, satisfied that 
his entry had captured all of the events of the previous night, 
slipped the pen back into the holder along the spine. Removing the 
map from the back of his journal, he opened it and examined it for 
a couple of minutes. Reaching into the backpack, he removed the 
GPS and read off his location. He checked that against the point 
that he had marked the night before and nodded when the two 
locations matched. Folding the map, he replaced it in the journal 
and returned the journal and the GPS to the backpack. He glanced 
over at the coffee and saw that it wasn't ready yet; it never was by 
this time. 

He stood up and lifted up his bedroll. Holding along the long side, 
he shook it with a great snap to remove any bugs, leaves, or other 
debris that might be stuck to it.  It took only a half a minute to fold 
it into thirds and then roll it into a tight bundle. He tied it with four 
strings that he retrieved from his backpack. Setting it down next to 
the backpack, he squatted and removed two small packages from 
it. The packages contained a small piece of sausage and the hard 
cheese. It wasn't much, but it was more than sufficient for a cold 
breakfast.

He checked the coffee again and found that it was ready and very 
hot. Using his shirttail, he lifted it by the handle from the mound of 
dirt and set it aside to cool. Rich foam topped half of the cup. The 
aroma of the coffee filled his nostrils and brought back memories 
of the Greek woman who had taught him to make coffee in this 
fashion.  He remembered the time she had made a cup of coffee 
with a distribution of foam almost identical to what was on the cup 
he was now examining. She told him that a major change in life 
was indicated. That same day an event happened that completely 
changed his life. Even now, the memory of that day brought a 
shudder to him. Since then, he never touched alcohol or drugs; he 
turned from drop out to determined student.  

Breaking away from his reflections, he took a bite of the sausage. 
His stomach twisted in response to the strong flavor of garlic so 
early in the day. He grimaced, but continued to eat. Alternating 
between bites of sausage and cheese, he slowly consumed his 
breakfast. Occasionally, he would take the time to sip his coffee 
enjoying the strong flavor and rush of caffeine. It wasn't long 
before he had nothing less than half a bite of sausage and cheese. 
He set them aside saying, "For the Gods and Goddesses."

With a quick flick of his wrist, he emptied the contents of his 
coffee cup onto the remains of his fire. The sudden onslaught of 
wet coffee grounds threw up a cloud of steam laced with the heavy 
scent from coffee smoking amongst a few remaining coals. He 
added a small amount of water to the cup swirled it with a deft 
flick of the wrist and tossed the water onto the fire again. The last 
coals died with a protesting hiss. His cup was free of coffee 
grounds. 

He added more water to the cup and dunked his toothbrush into it. 
After a minute of vigorous brushing, he spat out the white foam 
into the fire pit. A quick sip from the cup and a general swishing of 
the water through his mouth was followed by another splash of 
water hitting the fire pit. The fire pit was now a mess of sodden 
ashes and half-burnt sticks. He drank down the mouthful of water 
that remained in the cup. 

It only took another five minutes of work and all of his possessions 
were packed into the backpack or tucked into his pockets. With a 
patient scan over his campsite, he assured himself that there was 
little or no trace of his stay. A small mound of dirt where his fire 
pit had been and a small piece of cheese and sausage were all that 
remained. The flattened grass where he had slept would stand 
again in a day or two. He took considerable pleasure in performing 
the strict routine of his morning tasks.

  It was after three hours of leisurely hiking that a chill ran up his 
spine He froze in place as he struggled to come to grips with the 
unnatural feel of his surroundings. Everything was too quiet. There 
was no wind and no birdcalls. He listened carefully trying to 
identify the source of his uneasiness, yet nothing reached his ears. 
As he looked around, it seemed as though the colors were too 
bright. The greens of the leaves, the browns and grays of the trunks 
and branches of the trees, and the blue of the sky screamed at him. 
There was a profusion of colors. The light hurt his eyes with their 
intensity. 

The sound of a branch moving struck him like a whip. His head 
swiveled to see what had caused the noise. He stared in shock as a 
naked woman stepped from the forest. A current of electricity 
raced through him. His cock went from placid to erect instantly 
and painfully. 

Time came to stop as she stood at an angle to him while allowing 
him to take in her beauty. She was the perfect woman incarnate. 
Her stance was one of complete ease and confidence. Her right leg 
supported her weight. The left leg was angled to the side; the toes 
just touching the ground. Her left hand rested upon her hip. There 
was no trace of embarrassment in how she presented herself to him 
although there was no modesty in her pose. 

Her skin was silky white and totally unblemished. Her light brown 
hair hung to the top of the most sensational ass that he had ever 
seen and partially covered her breasts. Her gravity defying breasts 
were the perfect size, not too big and not too small. The pencil 
eraser sized nipples were erect, rising proudly from the light brown 
aureole.

Her face was perfect. Her eyes watched him with direct and 
piercing intensity, tempered with a softness that spoke of deep 
understanding of mortal frailty. The irises were the color of 
emeralds and shone with a light of their own. Her lips were a 
natural reddish hue that gave them a sensuality that no lipstick 
could ever achieve. Her lips, raised slightly in a wry smile, 
conveyed a sense of amusement. The cheeks shone with a natural 
blush. 

His gaze returned to her eyes and through them, he saw himself. 
He felt as though he were the one naked. He knew himself to be 
filthy from hiking for two weeks without a civilized shower. It had 
been two days since he had washed himself and that time was in a 
pitiful stream where the best that he could do was wet his shirt and 
wipe himself with it. The knees of his pants were permanently 
stained from kneeling in the dirt and grass. 

He was not really embarrassed by his physical appearance. That 
was minor. It was the fact the he knew his soul was laid bare for 
her to examine at her leisure. At that moment, he had an epiphany. 
He realized there was a significant difference between being naked 
and nude. Naked was being exposed and vulnerable to others. 
Nude was merely lacking clothing. She was nude and he was 
naked, although he still wore his clothes. Her secrets were still safe 
while his were exposed for all to see.

She beckoned him to follow with her right hand. Dazed and 
confused, he followed her. He felt a panic rise on those few 
occasions when she would disappear as she walked around a tree. 
The panic would only subside when she became visible again. His 
erection never flagged. In fact, it seemed as though it was stronger 
with each step that he took. It became painful to walk.  

He had no idea how far or in what direction they walked when she 
suddenly stopped beside a ravine. He stopped next to her and stood 
there never taking his eyes from her. She turned and smiled. With 
an unexpected ferocity, she tore the clothes from his body. She 
moved with an unnatural speed and exercised tremendous strength. 
His leather belt snapped as the blue jeans were ripped off him. He 
never saw the shirt disappear, but knew that it was gone when 
shreds of it floated on the breeze around him. One moment he was 
dressed and the next he was naked with a painful erection reaching 
towards the sky. 

Before he even had a chance to react, she threw him to the ground 
and mounted him. There was nothing giving about this act. She 
was taking and doing so without any regard to his pleasure. She 
rocked herself on his cock. It felt as though she were trying to 
break it off. She grabbed his arms and squeezed painfully drawing 
blood where her fingernails had become embedded in his flesh. 
She growled like a wild animal and stared into the sky as orgasm 
after orgasm ripped through her. With each orgasm, her 
movements became even less gentle, although he thought it was 
not possible.

Despite the brutality of the act, his body reacted. His arousal grew 
and soon he came within her. He convulsed as spurt after spurt of 
cum rocketed into her. He would never be able to recall how long 
he came, but it felt like hours. After he ejected the last blast of 
cum, she gently rubbed her hand across his face and dismounted 
from his cock. 

When the intensity of his orgasm finally diminished to a point 
where he was again aware of his surroundings, he looked up to see 
her towering over him. She pointed across the ravine to a tree. He 
looked in the direction she had pointed and saw a golden flash as a 
medallion hung from the branch of tree twisted in the wind. He 
looked back at her and again she gestured towards the medallion. 
He gazed at it and looked to her again. Now she frowned and 
pointed at the medallion a third time. Understanding crashed upon 
him as he realized that he was supposed to fetch the medallion for 
her.

Confused and in pain from the physical pounding she had given 
him, he stood and walked to the edge of the ravine. In was only 
fifteen feet or so deep and thirty feet across. A beautiful blue 
stream, teaming with fish, snaked its way through the ravine. Lush 
green plants grew in great profusion. 

He lowered himself over the edge and carefully started to make his 
way down. He had to be careful to protect his naked body from 
further insult by the sharp edges of the stone comprising the wall 
of the ravine. When he had gone down about fifteen feet, he 
glanced down. The bottom of the ravine was still fifteen feet below 
him. Confused, he looked up only to see that the top of the ravine 
was fifteen feet above him. He continued to lower himself, 
glancing upwards occasionally. The edge of the ravine soon rose 
impossibly far above him. The bottom remained fifteen feet below 
him.

He was taken by surprise when he finally reached the bottom. 
Stepping back, he looked up and saw that the edge of the ravine 
was only fifteen feet above him. He shook his head as though to 
clear it as he turned away from the wall of the ravine. His nose was 
immediately assaulted by the odor of rot and decay. Instead of lush 
green plants, plants that were pale and brown surrounded him. The 
plants were mushy and squished between his toes. He stopped for a 
moment wondering how she had managed to rip his leather hiking 
shoes from his feet. Steeling himself to the task at hand, he stepped 
carefully, making his way the few feet to the stream. What had 
appeared to be a blue stream was now shown as a muddy swamp 
clogged with algae and dead fish. He searched for stepping-stones, 
but realized quickly that there was no way to cross without 
walking through it. 

Taking a deep breath of the rotten air, he grimaced as he stepped 
into the muck. Each step released a horrible bubble of noxious gas 
that threatened to make him vomit. He marched for hours to cross 
the swamp. He was fearful that if he tried to turn back he would 
never make it out alive. 

At a point that appeared to be halfway through the swamp, he 
encountered a naked young girl, about eight years of age, crying to 
herself. He stopped and knelt down to put himself at eye level with 
her. He spoke softly and gently, "Hello there. Are you lost?"

The young girl sniffled, "Yeah, I want out of this icky mess."

"My name is John. What is yours?"

The young girl paused for a minute and then answered, "Missy."

"Okay, Missy, how about you and I walk in that direction for a 
while?"

The girl started to cry even more, "I don't want to walk in this icky 
mess any more. I wanna go home to mommy and daddy."

He stood there for a minute and considered his options. Not finding 
any options that he liked, he told her, "Why don't you climb on my 
shoulders and I'll carry you that way?"

She smiled, "Are you giving me a horsy ride?"

He nodded his head and knelt down for her to climb on. It only 
took her half a second to settle on his shoulders; legs hanging over 
each shoulder and her arms around the top of his head. He stood 
with more than a little struggle, and stated in as cheerful of a voice 
as he could muster, "Here we go!"

Missy shouted out, "Yippy!"

He started his march through the swamp. Each step sunk in deeper 
and it was hard work lifting his foot out of the work. He was 
definitely tired and this was going to tire him even faster. Each 
step led to larger releases of noxious gas than when he walked 
alone.

As he marched, he thought about his situation. Here he was, a 
naked adult carrying a naked girl in the wilderness. The naked girl 
wasn't even a relative. When he got across the swamp and finally 
met up with someone, he was likely to be sent to jail as a 
pedophile. There was no way that he could relate the events that 
placed him in this position to any sane or rational person, much 
less someone who was outraged at the apparent offence. He would 
end up in jail, there was no doubt of that. There was no way that he 
could set her down and leave her here though. To do that would be 
a real crime and one that he would have to live with for the rest of 
his life.

His morose thoughts and the sheer effort to take each step 
demanded all of his attention. So again, he was surprised when he 
finally made his way out of the swamp although the plants on this 
side were definitely more disgusting than they had been on the 
other side.  There was no way that he would set the girl in that 
mess. He walked through the mess, watching as maggots wriggled 
in the mud and flies bit his ankles and legs. It was with temporary 
relief that he finally reached the wall of the ravine. He thought he 
knew what to expect now. 

Now he had to figure out how to climb up the wall and get the 
young girl up the wall as well. He set her down near the wall much 
to her complaints. She had been enjoying the ride through the 
swamp. He leaned down and stated, "Sorry about that, I have to 
rest before trying to climb up the wall. Can you climb a little?"

Missy thought about it for a minute, "I'm afraid to fall."

He thought about it some more and decided there was still a 
chance, "How about you climb up first and I'll be right behind you 
to catch you if you fall?"

He took a minute to catch his breath and work some of the tension 
out of the muscles of the back. He helped the girl up the wall 
before reaching out to climb up the wall himself. As he climbed, 
the rock face crumbled under his hands. He had to take his time 
and work his way up carefully. Several times, the girl started to 
slip and he caught her before she fell much. The sudden strain on 
his muscles drained what little reservoir of strength that he had. 
Once, as he was reaching up to find a solid handhold, the rocks he 
was using for support gave way. He slid twenty feet down the face 
before catching something solid. He screamed out in pain at the 
cuts on the front of his body. He glanced down to see that his cock 
was a bloody mess. He was exhausted beyond human endurance. 
His body was racked in pain. The only thing that kept him from 
quitting was the knowledge that if he quit, there would be a little 
girl lost in this horrible environment. He climbed up to where 
Missy was watching him with terror in her eyes. He smiled, "Don't 
worry about me, I would have caught you too."

Missy nodded, "Ok."

They started to climb together, her leading the way and him right 
behind her ready to catch her a moment's notice. They climbed and 
the more they climbed the more determined he became to reach the 
top. Progress became measured in inches. Determination and focus 
on his goal drove him up the wall of crumbling stone. Muscles 
burned, each breath rasped in his throat and sweat running into his 
eyes blurred his vision. He was not surprised when he finally 
reached the top. He was unaware that he had reached the top until 
he realized that he was standing in front of the tree from which the 
medallion hung with the young girl standing next to him. He 
smiled down at her, "We made it out of that icky place!"

She smiled, "Yea!"

He turned to the tree on which the medallion hung and stated, "Let 
me get this, and then we can go find your home. Ok?"

She frowned, "Do you think my daddy will be angry at me to find 
me without my clothes?"

He ran his hand through her hair and answered, "Honey, he's going 
to be so happy to see you that he won't be mad at you about your 
clothes."

"That's good. I don't like it when daddy gets mad at me. He's real 
big and scary when he gets mad."

He thought about it. All he needed now was a big scary man 
finding him naked with the girl. Hands trembling he reached out 
and grabbed the medallion. Lifting it off the branch, he held it in 
his hands not seeing it. He stared at his hands. The little finger of 
his left hand was twisted into an unnatural position. The skin of 
both hands was torn and bloody. All his fingernails were broken. 
He looked again and realized that one fingernail had come off 
completely.

Numbly he turned to face the ravine only to find the woman 
standing next to him. She smiled and pulled the medallion from his 
hands. With dignity and honor, she hung the medallion around his 
neck. In a voice that seemed to reverberate through the air, she 
said, "John Carter, it is time for you to rest."

He woke leaning against his backpack beside a stream. His clothes 
were whole and clean. In fact, his clothes looked as good as new. 
There were no injuries and no pain. He was whole and clean as 
though he had just had a hot shower. His beard, grown over the 
month that he had spent out in the wilds, was trimmed and neat. 
His confusion only increased when he felt an unusual warm feeling 
spreading from the medallion hanging about his neck. He reached 
down and touched the medallion. Shaking his head, he said, " I 
guess it wasn't a dream."

As though it was an affirmation, a wind suddenly blew through the 
trees. The leaves shook. They made a rustling sound as though a 
hidden audience was moving about. The branches of two adjacent 
trees banged against each other as though applauding. Chills raced 
up his spine. He shook himself and took a couple of minutes to 
collect his thoughts.  He decided it wouldn't do him any good to try 
to puzzle out recent events, but that he did need to take care of the 
now. The first thing that came to his mind was that he had no idea 
where he was. 

He pulled out his GPS from the case on his belt and retrieved his 
map from the backpack so that he could check his location. To his 
surprise, he found that he was only a thirty-minute walk from the 
town that was his destination for the day. He didn't expect to arrive 
there until late in the afternoon. He checked his watch and was 
shocked to find that it was flashing random numbers instead of the 
date and time. The sun was directly overhead so that made it about 
noon.

 He replaced his belongings to their proper locations before 
standing up. Checking his compass, he headed towards town. He 
decided that he would eat a good meal, spend the night in a hotel 
and only then would he try to figure out what had happened this 
morning. Now that he had a plan, he resolutely set about executing 
it. He was almost in town when a thought that had been in the back 
of his mind forced itself to his consciousness, 'I was raped by a 
woman.' He revised that statement; he had made love with a 
tornado.

Chapter 2


It was a greasy spoon such as commonly built in the 1950's in 
small towns across America. There were six Formica tables; seats 
covered in green nalgahide. Along one side of the room ran a 
counter capable of seating ten people. Spaced along its length were 
the standard round stools; the kind of stool that allowed a kid to sit 
and spin. At every other stool were the napkin holder, saltshaker, 
peppershaker, and the sugar container that allowed you to pour out 
the sugar through a flap covered hole. At one end of the counter 
was an old cash register that was purely mechanical in its 
construction. Glass shelves, with a greenish hue when viewed on 
edge, ran along the mirror-covered wall behind the counter. 
Stacked in neat rows on the shelves were glasses, scratched from 
long use. There were water glasses, sundae cups, and tall glasses 
for milk shakes. The odor of grease hung heavy in the air.  

He didn't notice anything except a small vanity mirror by the door. 
The mirror didn't catch his attention, but his reflection did. The 
face that stared back at him was not the face with which he was 
familiar. A major portion of his beard had turned snow white; 
everything except for a four-inch wide stripe under his mouth. That 
had remained his natural color.  Less noticeable was his receding 
hairline. He had started losing hair when he was twenty-two. Now 
his hairline had returned to where it had been when he was 
eighteen. The hair on his head was thick and luxurious again. 

His stomach tensed as he stared at himself in discomfort. He could 
feel a headache developing as he questioned what he was seeing, 
yet unable to deny what looked back at him in the mirror. He was a 
scientist and recent events were not conforming to any reality that 
he understood.

A female voice interrupted his self-examination and moment of 
introspection. Not having heard what had been said, he replied, 
"Pardon?"

"I said, are you going to stand there admiring yourself in the mirror 
or come in and get something to eat?" the woman answered.

He turned and saw the woman sitting on a stool at the end of the 
counter with a newspaper opened in front of her. She was in her 
late thirties or early forties; but she was still a very nice looking 
woman who bore her maturity with grace and retained an obvious 
sensuality. She had the high cheekbones and the dark coloring that 
immediately identified her as having American Indian ancestry. 
Her jet-black hair was up in a bun; not the simple kind in which the 
hair was simply twisted, but the old fashioned kind that suggested 
very long hair. Smiling weakly to hid his discomfort, he replied, 
"I've been hiking for a couple of weeks and didn't recognize 
myself. Didn't remember being this ugly!"

The waitress didn't find him ugly at all. In fact, she found his 
appearance intriguing. She laughed, "Well handsome, you want a 
table or would you prefer the counter?"

"I'll take the counter if you don't mind joining me. I haven't had 
much opportunity to talk to anyone but squirrels for a long time," 
he replied. The knot in his stomach slowly loosened. 

"And you think that I'll be a better conversationalist than the 
squirrels?"

Surprised at her answer, he grinned, "I don't know. They sure 
know a lot about nuts. It was nice to talk about myself so much."

"Ugly and nuts, great!" she put the back of her hand to her 
forehead in a gesture like a heroine in a movie faced with 
imminent demise. His self-depreciating wit impressed her. 
Experience with men in the past suggested that he was actually 
very confident about himself and didn't feel a need to impress 
anyone with brash exaggeration. He would be the type of man that 
was goofy at times, considerate most of the time, attentive to 
others, and probably very good in bed. She shot back, "What was 
their advice?"

"That I should be buried under some leaves and dug up in winter 
when they're hungry," he answered laughing heartily. His initial 
discomfort at the door was behind him.

"Smart squirrels."

"Speaking of digging things up to eat, I'm starving," he said as he 
threw his hands over his heart as though mortally wounded at her 
rejoinder. His comment was punctuated by an embarrassingly loud 
growl from his stomach.

The waitress decided she like the young man and gestured to the 
chair next to her, "Sit here. The cook is out so all I can do for you 
is make a roast beef sandwich and give you a bowl of soup. Is that 
okay?"

"That's fine," he answered as he made his way to the chair at which 
she had pointed. He swung the backpack off his shoulders and set 
it down beside the chair. The waitress headed into the kitchen to 
make the sandwich.

As he sat down, the heavy weight of the medallion swinging freely 
under his shirt reminded him of the morning's events. He pulled it 
out to examine it. In the center was an imprint of a valley that 
looked a lot like the valley formed by a woman's legs. Above the 
image were the words, 'TO CROSS,' while below it were the 
words, 'A CHASM.' He read the words aloud, "To cross a chasm."

He turned the medallion over. The same picture was in the center. 
Above the imprint were the words, 'A CHASM,' while below it 
were the words, 'TO CROSS.'  Again, he read the words aloud, "A 
chasm to cross."

He looked up and stared into the distance as he replayed the earlier 
events in his memory. He had crossed a chasm to reach the 
medallion. Along the way, he had rescued a child; a rescue that 
could have cost him his freedom for the rest of his life. He came up 
with a hundred interpretations concerning the meaning of the 
medallion and each was immediately shot down. He recalled the 
pain and exhaustion as he climbed from the ravine and wondered if 
that was to be his fate.

A hand resting itself upon his abruptly interrupted his thoughts. He 
looked up to see the waitress looking into his eyes with great 
concern. There was also a great tension present. In almost a 
whisper, she asked, "When did you get that?"

"Today."

"Ah," she nodded, "That explains a lot."

He wrinkled his face in confusion, "What do you mean?"

A far-away and slightly haunted look entered her eyes as she 
answered his question, "Like many women in my tribe, I started to 
gain weight when I hit my mid-twenties. I had really gotten quite 
fat. I lost forty pounds the day I got my medallion. I've never had 
to worry about weight since then. I looked at myself the first time I 
saw a mirror the same way you were looking at yourself."

"So how long was I standing there?"

"About ten minutes," she answered. Adding, "Eat. You're probably 
very hungry."

"Did you get raped too?" he asked and then realized what he had 
said. His stomach clenched again. He quickly recovered, "Sorry, I 
shouldn't have asked that. It was very rude of me."

She looked at him in shock at the revelation implied in his 
question. She could see the tension in him. It matched the tension 
within her. This was something that she could not bring herself to 
discuss with others; even with others that had been through 
something similar. She worked to ease the building tension, "No, I 
wasn't raped and I'm not upset that you asked, so relax.  I imagine 
by your question that you've been through a lot though."

"I guess so. I don't know what it all means." He shrugged wanting 
to end the subject at that point. He realized that he didn't want to 
talk about his experience and got the distinct impression that she 
didn't want to talk about her experience either. Looking around he 
noticed the soup and sandwich on the counter in front of him and 
took a spoonful of the soup. It was minestrone. He sipped and then 
murmured, "Hmmm, good."

Relieved at the change in direction of the conversation, she 
laughed, "That's supposed to be - 'M'm! M'm! Good!' It's 
Campbell's, straight out of the can."

"Just the kind of woman that I like - handy with a can-opener," he 
replied. His hunger took over and he concentrated on eating. The 
waitress watched him eat. She knew from personal experience that 
he would never be able to talk about the events that had occurred 
to him. He needed to work off some his energy and tension. When 
he finally finished his sandwich, she proposed, "I'll tell you what. 
If you'll wash the dishes the lunch is free, but I've got to warn you 
that we've got a lot of dishes."

He had more than enough money for his entire trip, but appreciated 
the offer. He was about to decline and then changed his mind. The 
chance to work for a while would make him feel better. He smiled, 
"Sure, I'll do it. By the way, my name's John Carter."

"Nice to meet you John Carter. I'm Lily Green," she replied.

"Lily Green. That's a pretty name," he commented pausing a 
moment to see if she was going to respond. Seeing the slight shrug 
of her shoulders, he added, "I guess I better get to work on those 
dishes."

"Okay, let me show you around the joint," she replied. It only took 
her a few minutes to show him around the restaurant; pointing out 
the bins containing the dirty dishes and the sink. She watched as he 
carried the bins into the kitchen noticing that he stepped into the 
job like he had done it before. 

She returned to her stool and newspaper while he worked in the 
back. She spent some time considering the revelations that John 
had let slip and tried to work out the feelings that he must be 
experiencing. After a while she gave up recognizing that he would 
let someone know if he chooses or he would drop the subject 
forever. Regardless, it was highly unlikely that he would turn to 
her for comfort or explanation. The only thing that suggested he 
might turn to her was the fact that she had a medallion too. She 
turned to the newspaper. It didn't take her long to finish reading the 
small-town paper. 

Having wasted too much time, she started straightening up the 
restaurant for the evening rush (if the ten or so parties that would 
come in could be considered a rush). It didn't take her long to refill 
the salt, pepper, and sugar containers. She poured the ketchup of 
half-empty bottles into other half-empty bottles.  After that, she 
refilled the napkin holders. Returning to the counter, she found that 
the silverware racks had been refilled. She hadn't noticed when 
John had brought them out. She started setting the tables when she 
noticed that the silverware looked a lot cleaner than normal. She 
shrugged it off and finished setting silverware out on all of the 
tables and along the counter. It was about this time that she 
realized he had been in the kitchen area for a lot longer than was 
required to wash the dishes. She called out, "Hey, you okay in 
there?"

John's voice came drifting out from the kitchen, "Yeah, I'm almost 
done in here. Give me about five more minutes."

Lily glanced at the clock and noted that the boss would be 
returning anytime now. She wondered what had taken him so long. 
There weren't that many dishes. She started to head back to the 
kitchen when she heard her boss shout, "Jesus H. Christ!"

She ran into the kitchen in time to hear John reply, "No. I'm John. 
John Carter."

The portly man stared at him in shock and then burst out laughing, 
"I'm George. George Ericson. Are you the one that cleaned up this 
kitchen?"

"Yeah, I guess I got a little carried away."

Lily looked around at the kitchen. It was spotless. The hoods over 
the stove were shiny. The floor was clean. The shelves on which 
the can goods were stacked had been washed. The dishwasher was 
spotless. She gasped, "My God, how did you get all of that done so 
quickly?"

John shrugged, "I guess I had a little energy to burn off. I fixed the 
water heater. The wire to the upper heater was shorting out against 
the second refrigerator. That one will work now too. The 
dishwasher needed a little adjustment here and there. It's fine 
now."

George stared open mouthed at John, "I had some guy out here last 
week and he said it would cost me $500 to fix the electrical wiring 
and that I would have to buy a new refrigerator."

"No, the wiring was just a simple short. I would say that the fridge 
is working fine now. It should be cool enough for you to load it up 
with the dairy products in a couple of hours. I'm sure the health 
code stipulates that you can't store meat and dairy in the same 
refrigerator."

George looked around for several seconds and then answered, "I 
never thought I would see it this clean again. It looks like the day 
after I took over the place from my dad. Wow."

Lily shook her head in amazement. John had performed a minor 
miracle here. In an attempt to escape excessive thanks, John spoke 
up, "Well, I better get going. I'll be back for dinner. I noticed the 
pot roast in the oven; it looked very good."

George who was about to thank John for all of his hard work found 
himself responding to the compliment, "It's an old family recipe."

"Well, it sure looks and smells good," replied John. He continued, 
"It's been nice meeting you, Mr. Ericson. Lily, I hope I'll see you at 
dinner time?"

"Ah, sure," she replied rather surprised at the sudden turn in the 
conversation. She realized that he was really rather bashful about 
being praised. She hesitated and then asked, "Where are you 
going?"

"Um, I'm going to see about finding a campsite. I didn't notice a 
hotel so I've got to select a camp site before it gets dark."

George and Lily were both rather startled by his revelation. George 
was about to offer his place when he glanced in Lily's direction. He 
could tell that she was daring herself to make the same offer. He 
smiled knowingly and waited for Lily to realize what she really 
wanted to do. Lily spoke up hesitantly, "I've got a spare bed. You 
can stay with me."

John was about to decline what he initially thought was a polite, 
but not seriously meant, offer when he realized that she really 
wanted him to stay the night. He thought about it for a moment and 
then nodded his head, "If it's not too much of an imposition that 
would be very nice."

Lily looked down a little shyly and replied, "It won't be an 
imposition at all."

George looked around and suggested, "Lily, why don't you take 
him by your place and let him drop his stuff off. Even though it is a 
long way from here, I know you can be back before the dinner rush 
starts."

Lily heard the smile in his voice and knew the joke. She answered 
in a totally serious voice, "I don't know. It is a long way from 
here."

John, unaware of the undercurrent, earnestly interjected, "Hey, I 
don't want to be a problem. I can wait until you close to take my 
pack there."

George replied with a smile, "She won't get into trouble. I know 
she can be back in plenty of time."

Lily grabbed John's hand and pulled him out of the kitchen as she 
stated, "We had better hurry."

As she dragged him past the chair he had occupied earlier, he 
leaned down and grabbed his backpack. She suddenly stopped and 
turned around stating, "I forgot, it's faster if we go out the back 
door!"

John followed her puzzled. He shrugged as he passed a smiling 
George as they rushed through the kitchen. Lily swung open the 
backdoor and stepped through. John followed her through the door 
rather surprised at the energetic pace she was setting. He was 
brought up short when she halted suddenly in front of a 
Winnebago parked next to the door. As the door of the restaurant 
slammed shut behind them, she turned to him with a very large 
smile and said, "We're here!"

"You live in a Winnebago?" He stared at it in confusion. This was 
the largest and best model they made. He wondered how a waitress 
in such a small town could afford it. He also realized the joke that 
had been playing between Lily and George.

"Only when I'm on vacation."

"You're on vacation?" he asked. 

"Yes," she replied, "George's wife has been sick. I stopped in here 
to eat and George was trying to do everything - cook, wait on 
tables, and bus. I stayed and talked to him after the lunch rush and 
found out about her condition. So, I volunteered to help for a 
couple of days. She'll be back tomorrow."

"Wow, that's nice of you!"

"You would have done the same."

"Well, I would like to think so, but you never really know until the 
situation presents itself," he replied. John hoped that he would do 
the right things, but life had taught him many times that he didn't 
always recognize the opportunities to do the things that would 
make life better for those around him. There was the time when he 
had been visiting a friend at a hospital and met a little girl about to 
have an appendectomy. It wasn't until the staff had wheeled the 
girl away that he realized he had a toy in the pocket of his coat. He 
kicked himself once he realized that he could have given it to her 
as a way to take her mind off her pain and unpleasant 
circumstances. He realized that he could help George tonight.

Lily looked at him funny for a moment as though she could see the 
self-recriminations passing through him and then asked, "By the 
way, what are you thinking about?"

"I was just thinking that I might be able to run the kitchen and give 
George a night off," he answered. He then thought that it might be 
nice to spend a little more time with Lily.

Lily laughed, "Now I wonder why I knew that was what you were 
thinking? I bet you figured you had nothing better to do tonight 
and that it might be kind of fun. Then the clincher was that you 
would get to spend the slow times in the evening with me."

John actually blushed. Lily noticed and added, "Gosh, you are so 
cute!"

The evening passed with a lot of lighthearted banter and harmless 
flirting. On more than one occasion, Lily had to explain to local 
customers, who knew George, that she wasn't flirting with him but 
with a young stud that was filling in for George. When one of the 
town gossips acted as if she didn't believe Lily, Lily reacted 
directly, "Hey, Studly Doright! Come out here for a minute."

A slightly embarrassed John had peeked around the corner and 
answered, "Studly just left. I guess you have to settle for his 
cousin, Willy Do-OK."

The laughter that followed assured that George would not be the 
next subject of gossip. Instead, she and John would probably be the 
subjects of wild speculations for the next couple of days.

It didn't seem like any time passed before they were closing the 
restaurant at nine that night. Lily was amazed at how easily John 
worked in the kitchen. He had cooked like it was second nature 
and she had received many compliments on how good the food 
was that night. It was hardly ten minutes after she had locked the 
door that he had the kitchen in excellent condition. Dishes, pots, 
and pans were washed and put away. The floor was mopped and 
the trash taken out to the dumpster. He had to have begun long 
before closing time. 

While she spent her time closing up the cash register, John sat at 
the counter with his journal. He glanced at his watch and was 
dismayed that it was still generating random numbers. He glanced 
over at the newspaper that Lily had been reading and was shocked 
to see that the date on the paper was June 24. He woke up this 
morning, it was the twenty-first, and now it was the twenty-fourth. 
A sick feeling settled in his stomach, but he pushed it aside.  
Rather than deal with his feelings, he wrote his journal entry 
recording the events of the day as he had experienced them. That 
simple act of continuing his daily routine seemed to return a 
certain feeling of normalcy to his life.

Finished, he watched Lily as she wrote out the deposit slips and 
finished the books. He studied her features carefully noting the 
look of extreme concentration as she counted money, receipts, and 
the cash register report. He found her extremely attractive. The 
outfit she wore did little to show off her body, but it was clear that 
she was well proportioned. Her breasts definitely filled her shirt, 
but not so much that she pulled the material into gaps between the 
buttons. He now estimated her age to be mid-forties. He was 
twenty-six and that made her old enough to be his mother.

Upon stepping into the Winnebago an uneasy silence descended 
upon them both. The easy banter that had existed between them 
had evaporated. Minutes passed and the silence drug on. Finally, 
John asked, "Where do you want me to sleep?"

Lily was silent for a moment and then nervously answered, "Why 
don't you take a shower while I fix up a bed?"

"Okay," he replied, "Uh, where's the shower?"

Lily opened a small door, reached in to turn on the light, and 
pointed into the smallest space that John had ever seen called a 
room. She saw the look on his face and laughed, "You will want to 
get undressed out here. You'll have to sit on the toilet seat to wash. 
Don't worry, I won't watch."

Lily smiled and left after handing him a towel. After she had 
walked to the front of the camper, John looked around nervously. 
Although he was normally very much at ease with women, it was 
very seldom that he was intimate with them. He was the nice guy 
they always thought of as just like a brother. If they didn't think of 
him like a brother, then the chance of any kind of relationship was 
killed once the woman learned he was physics major. Sure, he had 
slept with a few women but it was never frequent or long lasting. 

He glanced towards the other end of the Winnebago and saw that 
Lily was seated facing away from him. He took a deep breath and 
then started to get out of his clothes. As he undressed, his cock 
started to get erect at the thought of being naked in front of a 
woman. He rushed to get undressed so that he could get into the 
shower before it got fully erect. Lily watched him undress in a 
reflection off a little mirror, quite impressed by his well-toned 
body and slightly amused at the panicked look on his face as his 
member swelled. The sight convinced her that there was only need 
for one bed tonight.

She laughed aloud as she heard a thump and a muffled yell as 
some part of his body made contact with a wall in the shower. 
When the door had closed, she stepped to the back of the camper 
and retrieved an extra pillow from an overhead cabinet.  She set it 
on the bed next to her pillow. 

Inside the shower, John had a minor shock when he looked down 
at his erection. It was now an inch longer and a lot thicker than 
before. He was in a quandary as to what to do about it and decided 
that masturbating in her shower wasn't quite right. He chose the 
cold shower routine. The frigid water hitting his body quickly stole 
his breath away and slowly shrank his erection.

He turned off the water and soaped up. Once he had covered his 
whole body he turned the water on again and rinsed off. Before 
turning off the water he whispered to his cock, "Cock, you had 
better behave yourself! I don't want to sleep outside tonight!"

After wrapping the towel around his waist, he opened the door and 
stepped out only to find Lily standing naked in front of him. His 
mouth dropped open as his towel immediately started to tent. Lily 
giggled and bending towards the tent in the towel whispered, "You 
had better behave yourself. He doesn't want to sleep outside 
tonight!"

He stood with an open mouth staring at her body. It was glorious. 
Her breasts were nicely shaped, full and soft looking. Gravity had 
been very kind to her. Between her breasts hung a medallion that 
looked very similar to his. Her legs were shapely. Her bush was 
neatly trimmed. He wanted to step to her and gather her in his 
arms. His cock twitched in time with his heart.

She stepped around him into the shower taking his towel as she 
passed. She called over her shoulder, "I hope I have some hot 
water left!"

"Don't worry, I took a cold shower!" a furiously blushing John 
replied. Looking down at his fully erect cock, he muttered to 
himself, "A lot of good that it did!"

"You just made an old lady very happy."

"Oh, God! There's an old lady in here too?" he asked as he looked 
wildly around. 

As the door to the shower closed, he heard her reply, "You are so 
cute."

It dawned on him what she had meant - she was the old lady. He 
stood there for a minute trying to decide what to do. After a 
minute, he still hadn't come to any conclusions so he stood there 
for several more minutes. Finally, he decided to find his bed and 
lie down in it. However, several minutes of searching led him to 
the conclusion that there was only one bed. His erection, which 
had been flagging, quickly perked up as he realized what that 
meant. He moved away from the bed to where he had set his 
clothes. Folding them nicely, he set them upon the backpack. 

He was about to reach inside for another pair of underwear when 
he felt a hand on his shoulder. Startled he swiveled around only to 
find himself staring at her immaculately trimmed bush and the 
clearly excited cunt below it. Lily watched him as his eyes drank in 
the sight of her most private area. He whispered, "Only the Gods 
and Goddesses can make a thing of such beauty."

The words sent a tingle through her entire body. He stood and 
kissed her gently on the lips, his tongue brushing against her lips in 
a light, teasing manner. Her mouth parted, but he continued to 
explore her lips with soft kisses and gentle flicks of his tongue. Her 
breathing began to get heavy, her nipples stiffed, and her juices 
began to flow. When he began to slowly probe inside her mouth, 
she responded with her tongue.  An erotic dance of give and take, 
explore and retreat, began. Gone was the shy awkward young man; 
having been replaced by a skilled lover.

Lily never noticed how he had slowly moved her to the bed until 
he lay her down upon it. He moved over her, kissing a path from 
her mouth to under her ear. His medallion swung down in contact 
with hers producing an electric and erotic shock through both of 
their bodies. Time stood still. 

He kissed his way down her neck to her breasts; breasts that were 
slightly flattened by gravity. In the dim light, her dark aureoles 
topped by hardened nipples demanded his attention. He slowly 
worked his tongue around her breast working his way towards the 
nipple. Before he reached the nipple, he stopped and began the 
journey again. She finally grabbed his head and directed him to her 
nipple; letting out a sigh as she did so.  As he kissed her, his hands 
swept across her body slowly tracing a path from behind the knee, 
to her buttocks, and ending at the just under her arm. Her body 
sung with pre-orgasmic tension; knowing that he was going to 
keep building that tension until it either became too much to 
handle or an amazing orgasm would wash over her.

It was much later when an amazing orgasm that was too much to 
handle washed over her. Both of them fell asleep, still connected.

Chapter 3

He waved to Lily from where she had dropped him off as she 
drove away in the Winnebago. Lily had been kind enough to drop 
him off here where he could replenish his supplies and catch a bus. 
In fact, she had insisted that he visit this particular store suggesting 
that he would get outfitted with the items that he would really 
need. He watched her turn off the main road to one of the back 
streets. She was followed around the corner by the local Sheriff in 
his truck. 

Three days lost because of the Medallion and the two wonderful, 
amazing, days spent with Lily put him behind schedule. His plan 
had been to hike to here through the park and then to catch a bus 
that would take him to the next park he was planning to hike. 
Having her drop him off here put him back on schedule and, truth 
to tell, he wasn't all that upset about missing five days of hiking.

The past two days had been spent in bed with Lily. It seemed like 
the only time they came out was to eat, but they had also worked 
the evening shift at the restaurant to allow George and his wife a 
chance to be together. He remembered the second morning when 
they had come in for breakfast how George's wife, Martha, had 
told them about going to a movie for the first time in twelve years. 
She was so excited that it had made all of the work worthwhile.  

Lily was the most uninhibited woman that he had ever known. She 
loved giving head and even swallowed his come with great 
enjoyment. That was a first for him. When she went down on him, 
her tongue touched all of the right areas. She caressed his balls 
with a gentle touch that only added to the excitement. She knew 
when he was about to come and took the opportunity to insert a 
finger into his ass. The sensation had sent him over the edge. When 
he looked down at her, she was looking back up at him with his 
cock in her mouth and a smile in her eyes.  

The only negative thing over the past two days was an increasing 
restlessness at staying in the same place. It was felt by both of 
them. Something was calling to them, directing them to go in 
different directions. He had always known the allure of wandering, 
but he had never felt it to the degree that built within him over the 
two days with Lily. It drew him on again towards the door of the 
store. 

He walked to the entrance of the store and held the door open for 
an elderly woman leaving. He entered the store and looked around. 
Laid out before him was an amazing selection of hiking and 
camping gear. This was not a normal store. It had everything from 
arctic to desert gear. There was a dog sled, mule packing gear, and 
mountain climbing equipment. 

As he wandered the isles amazed at the selection, the proprietor 
finally caught his attention, "Hey young man, you need to put your 
pack in one of the lockers at the door."

John replied, "Sorry, I didn't realize. This is amazing. I have never 
seen so much camping gear in one place!"

The proprietor smiled, "Well, I tend to wander a bit myself, so I 
stock everything I might need."

John studied the proprietor and guessed he was about seventy years 
old. He was a short stocky individual, in excellent shape for a man 
even half his age. His leathered skin showed the years spent in the 
sun. Laugh lines around the eyes coupled with the twinkle in them 
identified him as having a good sense of humor. There was a little 
tension in his stance as if the man expected John to slip an item or 
two into his backpack.

John walked over to one of the lockers and put his backpack in it. 
The proprietor visibly relaxed and suggested, "Let's get you 
outfitted with what you need. By the way, my name is Jed Hart."

"I'm John Carter."

"Well, John, what do you need?"

"Actually, all I need is a good watch, some water purification pills, 
and matches."

 "I notice that you're packing light. How long do you expecting to 
be hiking?"

"Well, I just finished a month in the park. I'm taking a bus down to 
the Big Bend to hike for a month there."

"I'm impressed. Most hikers load up with every little gadget they 
can get," replied Jed. His respect for John rose. He had sold lots of 
useless stuff to weekend hikers and didn't have much respect for 
most of them. He asked, "How do you get by so light?"

"Thanks, I found that carrying those butane gadgets didn't help 
over a long haul. It is too much weight if you carry enough to last a 
couple of weeks. Fancy tents are fine, but I like to watch the stars 
overhead. A simple tarp is enough for rainy nights and it is 
versatile enough to serve all kinds of uses. When I do carry 
something, I like it to be high quality, which doesn't mean fancy."

"Smart," replied Jed as he lead John to the water purification area. 
He watched as John looked over the selection carefully before 
picking out the tablets. They were simple pills packed in a plastic 
container. There were thirty pills in a package, so he took two. Jed 
nodded appreciatively as they were the same ones he carried when 
hiking. He decided the kid knew what he was doing.

He then led John over to the counter. There were matches and 
watches there. He watched as the kid picked out a simple set of 
matches with a light coating designed to keep them from 
crumbling in high humidity conditions. The matches came in a 
waterproof package.  

John pulled the watch from his pocket, "Do you have one like 
this?"

Jed took the watch from him and noticed that it was generating 
random numbers. He was not impressed by the radio-controlled 
watch that set itself from the atomic clock. He expected John to 
have a more utilitarian watch that was shockproof and waterproof. 
He looked up at John and asked, "What happened to it? I've never 
seen one do that before."

 "I had a rather strange experience in the park and it started doing 
that," replied John as a shudder went through his body. He still had 
not come to grips with the events in the park.

Jed studied John at the mention of a strange experience. He noticed 
the strangely colored beard and the distant look in the young man's 
eyes. He had an idea what that strange experience had been. He 
decided to approach the topic slowly, "Yeah, I have a couple of 
these. Why did you select this kind of watch?"

"It has more to do with my work than with hiking," replied John. 
He added, "A more practical watch would probably be better, but 
again I like to pack light. That goes for the rest of my life as well."

"Reasonable, I suppose," replied the proprietor. He revised his 
opinion of John upwards again. He pulled out a box that contained 
an identical watch and set it on the counter. He watched as John 
checked it out.  John fumbled with the instructions and set the time 
zone on the watch. He watched as the watch finally picked up the 
signal and set itself. Now it was showing the correct date and time.

"Great, I'll take it." 

"Anything else?"

"Not that I can think of," replied John. He looked around the store 
at all of the goods. It really was an amazing place. He really 
wanted to spend some more time just wandering through the isles. 

As Jed rang up the purchase, he asked, "By the way, did that 
unusual experience in the park involve a medallion?"

John started at the mention of the medallion. His hand went 
immediately to his chest where the medallion hung. He looked up 
to see a smiling Jed. Jed added, "I thought so. I won't ask for any 
details."

"Thanks." For some reason, the fact that he didn't have to explain 
was a great relief. He didn't understand the great reluctance 
associated with telling the story of what had happened in the 
woods. It couldn't be the rape; that wasn't enough to explain why 
his mind shied away from the rest of the experience. 

John pulled himself together and paid for his purchases. He put on 
the watch at the counter as the proprietor disappeared. He walked 
over to the bin where he had put his pack. He was adding the rest 
of his purchases to it when the old man returned carrying a walking 
stick. 

"This is yours," stated Jed. He held out the walking stick. 

John turned around wondering about what the old man was saying. 
He hadn't forgotten anything. He noted the walking stick and 
asked, "Pardon me?"

"I said, this is yours."

John took the walking stick from Jed. It was a work of art. It was 
five feet in length. The wood was a polished jet black with a brass 
end-cap on the bottom. The top held a brass frame with a crystal 
held secure within its grasp. There was what appeared to be an 
inlaid opal near the top. Three brass rings circled it; spaced evenly 
along its length. The most surprising thing was its weight. It was 
relatively heavy. He whistled, "Wow, this is a beauty. I'm afraid 
it's not mine though."

Jed smiled, "I made it and have been waiting for the right person to 
give it to. It is yours."

"It's too nice. You should keep it for yourself." John couldn't 
imagine the amount of work that went into making it.

Jed laughed, "No, I have one of my own. This one is yours. After 
all, we have one thing in common."

"What's that?"

"A medallion."

"Oh," replied John. He thought about what that meant. He didn't 
know what to say.

Jed took back the walking stick stating, "Let me show you some 
features of this stick. First of all, it is made of ironwood. That is 
the densest wood there is and it is practically indestructible. Insects 
can't eat it and water won't warp it. It won't knick except under the 
most extreme circumstances. You can hit a bear across the head 
with it and know that it won't break." 

"You will notice this opal here on the side near the top. Pressing it 
turns on a light that is refracted by the crystal giving you a nice 
sphere of light. The crystal is a Herkimer Diamond. Even though 
they call it a diamond, it is actually a piece of quartz. The light is 
located below the crystal and is powered by batteries that are 
recharged by simple up and down movements of the staff. Using 
the staff as you walk is sufficient to recharge the batteries. This is 
very useful in caves or when you absolutely must hike at night." 

Jed pressed the button and a soft glow came from the crystal at the 
top of the staff. John interrupted, "That is brilliant!"

"There's more," replied Jed. He added, "It can be taken apart into 
three sections by unscrewing it just below the brass rings. The staff 
is hollowed out so that you can carry things in it. It makes it light 
enough to be useful. I'll let you decide what you want to put in 
there."

"Thank you very much. Will you accept anything for it?" asked 
John very taken aback by the walking stick.

"No, it is time for you to leave now. You have far to go and so 
little time to get there," replied Jed as he returned the walking 
stick. As John accepted it, it was as though a shock passed from 
Jed to him. Jed walked away leaving a very confused young man 
staring at his back.

John stood there a second trying to make sense out of the old man's 
behavior. He realized that Jed wasn't comfortable with praise. He 
decided that the least he could do was give him a minor blessing 
and then whispered, "May the Gods and Goddesses watch and take 
care of you."

Swinging his backpack onto his back, John headed out of the store. 
He was leaving as the Sheriff walked up to the store. He held the 
door open for the man, giving him a short nod of his head in 
greeting. The Sheriff returned his nod.

John stopped and considered his options. Many little stores lined 
the street, but nothing looked like a bus station. He considered 
each store trying to decide which would be the best to ask for 
directions. There were a couple of clothing stores, a little 
restaurant, a hardware store, and a convenience store. He was 
surprised that there wasn't a feed store, but that might be on the 
next street over. He felt drawn to the convenience store. He 
considered going back into the sporting goods store to ask the 
Sheriff, but the idea of imposing on Jed again made him a little 
uncomfortable.

He walked to the convenience store down the street to locate the 
bus stop. It was a small town and he was sure that who ever 
worked in the store would know the answer. He would get a soft 
drink as an excuse for being in the store. He didn't drink them very 
often, but it was a warm day and would be nice for a change.

Using the walking stick seemed completely natural; it felt as if he 
had been using it his entire life. In use, the weight of the stick 
disappeared. He wondered why he had not used one before now. In 
a way, he felt as though it made him complete.

He entered the convenience store. The first thing that he noticed 
was the young blond haired girl behind the counter. Her hair was 
cut short and she had it styled in spikes. She was the first one 
wearing her hair that way that he found attractive. He wondered 
what was the name of that hairstyle. She looked nineteen or so; 
with a nice figure. He wondered for a moment if her breasts were 
real, as they looked too big for the rest of her slim body. When she 
smiled in his direction, it was like the whole room lit up. He smiled 
back and nodded.

Looking around the store, he spotted the soft drinks. The isle was 
rather narrow and getting at the drinks with the walking stick was 
awkward. He set it down. He slid open one of the doors to the 
refrigeration unit and knelt down to get one of the drinks off the 
bottom shelf. It took him a minute to get it out of the shelf. It was 
lodged in that area where the glass doors overlapped. He stood and 
let the door slide closed. It made a satisfying thud. He didn't 
remember picking up the walking stick, but it was in his hand.

As he made his way to the front of the store, he noticed a very dirty 
kid about twenty standing in front of the register. His long and 
greasy hair was stringy. His clothes were filthy and ripped at the 
knees and elbows. They hung loosely off his body.

As John approached, he could smell him. The young girl looked 
terrified. It took John a moment to realize that the kid was holding 
a gun pointed at the girl. He continued to walk towards the counter 
while studying the kid. He noticed that the kid's crotch was tented 
and he realized that the kid was sporting an erection. At first, he 
thought the kid was thinking of raping the girl, but then it dawned 
on him that the kid was getting sexually excited by the thought of 
killing her.

As the kid raised the gun, John reacted before he even could 
rationally think about what he was doing. He ran to get between 
the girl and the kid. Time slowed to a crawl and he became aware 
of minutia in his surroundings.  As he moved, he observed the box 
of Cracker Jacks on the shelf. The little logo announcing a toy 
surprise inside brought back memories of childhood. The details 
were sharp and the colors overly bright. A few steps later, it was a 
stain on the dirty linoleum floor that caught his attention. Like an 
inkblot in a psychological test, it made him think of a butterfly and 
wondered what a psychologist would make of that. Another step 
and he looked at the face of the kid. There was a zit on the side of 
his nose. The kid's eyes were focused on the girl. He wasn't even 
aware that John was in the room. He could see the kid's finger 
starting to squeeze the trigger on the pistol. 

Just as he got between the girl and the kid, the gun fired. The 
strange sense of time dilation held and he swore he could see the 
bullet as it traveled towards him. As the bullet tore through his 
shoulder, he spun and the walking stick swung in a wide arc. In 
slow motion, he fell towards the counter. The front was stocked 
with all kinds of gum and candies. There was nothing he could do 
to stop his fall.  He hit headfirst on the edge of the counter. Just 
before losing consciousness, he thought that it was odd that he 
hadn't heard a sound from the moment that the door to the soft 
drinks had slid shut to now. It was the last thing that he 
remembered in the convenience store.

Floating in a sea of warmth and tranquility, he looked down on his 
own body as it lay on an operating table. He watched 
dispassionately as the doctor and a nurse worked feverishly to 
restart his heart. Turning, he could see the other world. He moved 
towards it and found his way blocked by the woman from the park. 
She shook her head and pointed to his body behind him. He 
nodded and reluctantly returned.

On waking, it felt like he had stepped into a bright light. He 
flinched as he looked around with blurred vision and a fogged 
mind. Nothing was clear enough to make out. His body felt heavy 
on him. The medallion lay on his chest pressing him into the bed 
with its' weight. A black shape blocked the light in his eyes. He 
shut his eyes and then opened them again forcing them to focus.  
His confused brain finally patched together the details; he was 
looking at a black man. He croaked out, "Issheoday?"

His attempt to communicate was not very successful. He struggled 
to pull himself together and tried again, "Ish she okee?"

"You're okay. I'm glad you're awake," the black man replied. The 
man's voice was very deep and resonant with a strong southern 
accent. 

John tried again with longer pauses between words, "Noo ... Ish ... 
she ... okee?"

A puzzled look passed over the face of the man and then he 
realized what John was asking. He answered, "Ah, you're asking if 
she's okay?"

"Uh-ha," replied John wondering what was wrong with his mouth. 
He waited for a reply.

"You'll have to talk to the Sheriff about that. Right bout now, you 
might want a lil sip of water to clear out that cottonmouth," he 
answered. The face disappeared from view for a moment and then 
returned. He held up a little glass with a bendable straw in it. He 
placed the straw at John's mouth and stated, "Now, you take lil sips 
or you'll get sick." 

Taking a small sip alleviated the dryness in his mouth. He had a 
little trouble swallowing, but guessed that would be normal. The 
second sip seemed to help restore his energy. He tried talking 
again, "Thanks."

His voice was a little clearer and the nurse answered in his deep 
voice, "No problem! This is the third time you woke up and first 
time you spoke anything except a moan."

"I don't want to complain, but aren't you supposed to be a brunette 
with a big bust, top unbuttoned one button too many, short white 
skirt, garters and white stockings, and threatening me with an anal 
thermometer?"

The nurses' laughter rang out. It was loud enough and lasted long 
enough to bring another nurse in the room. With tears running 
down his face, he answered, "Shit, you're feeling fine. Don't you 
think I'd look ridiculous with my hair dyed brunette and wearing 
that outfit?"

The other nurse discretely left the room to get the doctor. It was 
only a minute later before he arrived. He was the perfect Dr. 
Marcus Welby type, but lacked the bedside manner. Before John 
even had a chance to react to his arrival, the doctor was prodding 
and probing various parts of his body. The stethoscope was 
absurdly cold and John's reaction to it prompted a glare from the 
doctor. He finally stepped back and stated the sound that all 
patients hate, "Humm."

"So doc, am I gonna live or will I die again?"

"You died before?" asked the doctor after he regained his 
composure. The question had really taken him aback. 

"In the operating room. Don't you remember?"

"Yes, I do. I just didn't know if you had been told or not," the 
doctor answered as he glared at the nurse. 

"No one told me. I was there and remember it."

"Of course," answered the doctor. He was very disturbed by this 
conversation. He knew about many studies that suggested that 
patients that had died and then been resuscitated often remembered 
dying, but he had never believed it.

"So will I live?"

"I think so. You are healing much faster than I expected. In fact, I 
didn't expect you to wake up for another couple of hours." The 
doctor was surprised at the state of health of his patient. Only four 
hours before, he had died after suffering a gunshot that had caused 
him to lose too much blood and a very nasty concussion. Now the 
patient was talking and acting as if he had just been to a summer 
social. This was weird and as a man at the end of a long career of 
practicing medicine, he didn't trust weird.

"Can the police interview me now?" asked John. His concern about 
the young lady had returned, "I want to find out if she is okay."

"The Sheriff is outside," answered the doctor. He turned to the 
black nurse, "Get the Sheriff."

"By the way, I'm John Carter. What are your names?"

"I'm Dr. Simpson, the one and only doctor in this whole area," 
replied the doctor. He abruptly turned and left the room. 

The nurse that had been standing in the background looked around 
rather nervously. She hated it when the doctor did that. She was 
usually left explaining his behavior to rather angry patients. John 
smiled at her and asked, "Your name?"

"My name is Lucy," she answered and then added, "Don't mind the 
doctor. He's overworked. He was about to get some rest when you 
were brought in."

"Well, Nurse Lucy, don't worry about that. I've worked with a lot 
of people that are far stranger than him."

She smiled at the comment. At least this patient seemed to 
understand. His physical condition after such an ordeal was truly 
amazing. She stepped closer to the patient and commented, "You 
really do look fantastic."

John was about to reply when the Sheriff entered the room behind 
the black nurse. Lucy discretely stepped out of the room with a nod 
to the black nurse. John looked over at the Sheriff and asked, 
"How is she? Is she okay?"

The Sheriff answered stiffly, "Look, I'll ask the questions if you 
don't mind."

Taken aback and wondering what had happened after he lost 
consciousness, John shrugged, "Okay."

"First, tell me about what happened as you know it."

John relayed the whole story; at least as he knew it. He was as 
thorough as he could be. He left out the time dilation effect. No 
one would believe that aspect of his experience. The Sheriff 
listened and didn't say a word. He jotted down notes capturing the 
essence of the story. When John finished, the Sheriff asked, "At 
what point did you realize that he was going to shoot the girl?"

John shook his head and thought back. He answered, "You know 
... As I was walking towards the counter, I noticed that the guy 
had an erection. I mean... this is sick, his pants were tented. I 
thought that he was thinking of raping her, but then I realized that 
he was moving away and pointing the gun at her. I realized that the 
idea of shooting her was sexually exciting him. Can you imagine 
anything so sick in your whole life?"

The Sheriff shook his head and then asked, "You had never seen 
him before?"

"No. I didn't notice him when I came in and I didn't see him come 
in the store after I had entered."

"Did you ever see the girl behind the counter before?"

"No sir."

"Yet you ran in between her and the gunman without any thought 
for yourself?"

"Sure. Anyone would have."

The Sheriff shook his head and looked at the notes he had taken. 
They confirmed what the surveillance camera had recorded. His 
daughter had been too upset to tell her side of what had happened. 
He shook his head, "Well, you are wrong. That guy has done the 
same thing before today. You are the first to have done anything 
even though you aren't the only one who has witnessed him doing 
it."

"I'm sure they had mitigating circumstances. Too old, too young, 
or sick or something."

"He's done it eight times before today."

"Eight times? I hope you caught him," answered John with a 
concerned look on his face. He added, "It wouldn't be good for 
someone like that to escape."

The Sheriff stared at the young man in the bed. He could hardly 
believe this guy was for real. He answered, "Oh yeah, we caught 
him. He was laid out on the floor where you had knocked him out 
with your staff."

"That was an accident. Is the girl okay?" asked John. He had no 
idea that he had struck the guy with his walking stick. Talk about 
luck, this was it.

"Yes, she's fine."

"Thank the Gods and Goddesses," replied John. He breathed a sigh 
of relief.  He looked at the Sheriff, "You have no idea what a relief 
it is to know she's okay. I've been worried that I was too late to 
help her."

"Oh, I have a good idea," replied the Sheriff. 

"I guess as Sheriff those kinds of situations come up regularly for 
you."

"Not really," replied the Sheriff. He had been in law enforcement 
ever since he had gotten out of the military. He had never been in a 
showdown situation with a criminal like that. He changed the 
subject, "You're going to have to come here and testify at his trial. 
I've gotten the information I need to contact you from your drivers 
license."

"Oh that information is changing. I just finished my Masters and 
will be starting my Doctorate in the fall. I don't have an address 
yet, but I'll be at the University of Texas. I can give you my 
parents' address and telephone number. That would be best, they 
always know where I am."

The Sheriff indicated his approval at the plan and took down the 
information. Finished with that little detail, he stated, "Did you 
know there was a reward for that guy?"

"No."

"Well, I've given you credit for capturing the guy so you'll be 
getting the reward."

John was silent for a minute as he thought about the reward. On 
one hand, it was money and as a student, he could always use a 
little more cash. On the other hand, there was the woman from the 
park. He didn't know what role she had in this, but he had the 
definite feeling that she wouldn't approve. He frowned, "I don't 
really feel comfortable taking a reward. I'll tell you what, why 
don't you get that money divided amongst the families of the other 
victims of that guy. I'm sure they can use the money. Oh and give a 
little bit to the girl; maybe enough to go out for a good meal or a 
nice dress or something. I'm sure she was traumatized a bit by the 
events."

The Sheriff looked at the young man lying in the bed. If he weren't 
a suspicious person, he wouldn't have believed this kid's story at 
all. However, he had all the evidence before anything had 
happened that this kid was different. He couldn't believe how 
different.

He had seen Lily drop him off outside of Jed's place. Concerned 
for her future safety, he pulled her over after she had gotten around 
the corner. He had wanted to lecture her about picking up 
hitchhikers. Instead, she had told him about John. She related how 
he had covered for George at the diner while George had taken a 
little time off with his wife for a change. He could tell that Lily 
was quite taken with him. 

He had stopped by Jed's place later. Jed had been cryptic in his 
comments, but the gist of it had been to leave the kid alone. 
Actually, he had stated that John Carter was destined for great 
things; he was not to interfere with the kid's destiny. It was at that 
point that he had gotten the call from his daughter.

He stated, "My daughter will appreciate that."

"Your daughter?"

"Yes, the girl in the store is my daughter."

"Oh, I didn't know. Give her my regards and tell her I'm glad that 
she's okay."

The Sheriff shook his head. He knew his daughter too well. The 
damn kid had the morals of an alley cat. She would thank this kid 
in her own way. He disapproved of just about everything she did, 
but there was very little he could do about it. He still loved his 
little girl. He was about to thank John for his actions, but was 
interrupted, "Well, I guess as Sheriff you have a lot of work to do. 
I guess you'll be back to ask more questions?"

"No, but it would be nice if you could stop by the office before 
leaving town."

John nodded, "Sure, I can do that. Thanks for coming by and 
letting me know that she's okay."

The Sheriff left feeling like he had lost control of the situation. The 
young man's politeness was quite disarming.  He was definitely 
going to check with the University of Texas to assure himself that 
the kid was telling the truth. It was just very strange. The kid 
throws himself in front of a bullet to protect some one that he 
doesn't even know, dies and comes back, and then acts like it was 
nothing more than helping someone fix a flat tire. As a law officer, 
he had been exposed to the bad sides of too many people that 
appeared nice and upstanding. To find someone that didn't appear 
to have a bad side was not normal. It just didn't feel right. 

John watched the door close behind the Sheriff and then turned to 
the black nurse. He asked, "By the way, I'm John. What's your 
name?"

The black man laughed, "I'm John. Nice to meet you John."

John smiled, "Well, Nurse John, I was hoping that when you came 
back with the Sheriff that your would be hair dyed blond and you'd 
be all dolled up!"

 The nurse laughed heartily. He was used to dealing with grumpy 
patients and to have a friendly one for a change was nice. He 
answered, "You never know. I might come here tomorrow all 
dressed up!"

"Do you think we can get all of this plumbing pulled off of me?" 
asked John as he nodded to the tube running into his arm.

"The doc will be back in an hour to check on you again. You can 
ask him then. For now, I suggest that we both make ourselves 
comfortable."

"Oh, so are you going to stay here all day?"

"Standard practice here for concussion patients. We don't have all 
of that fancy monitoring gear here, so you're stuck with me."

"Well, maybe you could help me dial a call to my parents."

"Sure thing, I bet they'll be happy to hear from you."

They worked out the details for dialing the number and Nurse John 
ended up holding the telephone to Johns ear.  "Hello Mom!"

There was a pause.

"I'm fine. I was shot and died, but I'm feeling much better now. In 
fact, I feel great."

Nurse John rolled his eyes. He could only imagine the effect those 
words would have on the guy's mother. He could only hear the one 
end of the conversation.

"No, really."

"Well, you don't have to come here. I'll probably be out of the 
hospital before you can get here."

"Nah, no need. I've got plenty of money and I'm still covered by 
health insurance."

"Oh, by the way. You might tell Doug that I'm at this great little 
hospital here in the country. It is next to a national park with great 
hiking trails. You might ask if he wants to come out here and see 
me. Who knows, he might be able to get a job here!"

"Oh, the doctor here has all of the personality of a wood fence. He 
and Doug would get along great!"

Nurse John rolled his eyes. This end of the conversation was 
surreal. He had heard all kinds of descriptions of the doctor, but 
this one was probably the most accurate. He wondered what kind 
of person would get along great with the doctor. 

"Okay, I'll give the phone to Nurse John and he can give you the 
details."

"Sure, I'll let you know what I decide to do next."

"Okay, bye. Here's John."

John looked up at the nurse and stated, "She wants to talk to you."

Nurse John spent the next ten minutes talking to John's mother. He 
couldn't believe how calm she was about the whole situation. If he 
had told his mother that he had died, she would have screamed and 
immediately flown here. Instead, the entire conversation was about 
the possibility of Doug getting a job in the hospital as a doctor.  
When he had mentioned that John was okay, she said that she 
knew that. He wouldn't have said he felt okay if it hadn't been true. 
He decided that white families must be very different from his.

After hanging up the telephone he turned to his patient, "You got 
shot and died, but you're feeling better now! How can you break 
the news to your mother that way?"

"She would have been upset about any other way that I could have 
put it."

Chapter 4

Doug strode into the room with an undisguised sense of authority. 
He was a short man, with a neatly trimmed mustache that 
exaggerated his frown and short black hair that gave him a 
distinguished look. He looked around and noticed a man changing 
the sheets on the only bed in the room. He cleared his throat, 
"Where's John Carter?"

Nurse John turned and examined the intruder. He didn't know what 
to make of the man. He answered, "He's in the next room reading 
to the Wilson girl. She had an appendectomy yesterday."

Doug turned before Nurse John had even finished his answer. The 
nurse watched the guy's back as he left the room without further 
comment. He muttered, "That guy makes Dr. Simpson look like a 
great conversationalist."

A minute later John Carter entered the room followed by the other 
man. Doug pointed at the bed, "Get in bed, now!"

"Dougie, I've known you since you and my brother were caught 
playing doctor with the girls next door.  Now get off your high and 
mighty doctor pedestal you've put yourself on and say hello like 
the real person I know still lives inside you!"

Nurse John just chuckled quietly to himself. He glanced over at 
John and saw the twinkle in his eye. He knew that look too well. 
John got that same look when he would start to bait Dr. Simpson. 

"John Carter get in that bed. I saw your chart out there. You were 
shot and lost way too much blood. You're lucky to be alive. Now 
you get in that bed and stay there until I or your doctor say you can 
get out of it!"

John made a raspberry and retorted, "Make me. I can still whip 
your ass one armed!"

Doug chuckled, "Damn it John. I get a call from your mother that 
you got shot and died. Then she tells me that you are feeling better, 
but that I might come out here to apply for a job. Now you and I 
know that it was her way to get me here to check you out. So be a 
nice guy and cooperate."

John laughed, "Sorry Doug. Getting you out here was my idea. 
There's only one doctor in the whole area and he's over worked. I 
knew you wanted a practice in the country and this is mighty nice 
country."

Doug pointed to the bed and John finally got into it. Doug looked 
over his shoulder at the nurse and groused, "Get some bandages. 
I'm going to look at his shoulder and see how it's healing."

Nurse John shook his head, "Nope, you aren't the..."

Doug interrupted, "Nurse, do it now!"

Nurse John spun around and left the room. John nodded with a 
wise ass smile on his face, "Dougie, you did it now! Get prepared 
for the wrath of Dr. Simpson!"

Hardly had John finished his statement when a whirlwind in the 
form of Dr. Simpson entered the room. He shouted, "You! Who 
are you that you dare order my nurses around?"

"I'm Dr. Wilkins. Are you the hack that lets him walk around the 
hospital two days after getting shot?" shouted Doug back at the 
older man.

Nurse John discretely entered the room and moved over to the bed. 
As the doctors argued, John winked at Nurse John and stated, "I 
told you they would get along fine." 

Nurse John nodded, "Yeah, like gasoline and matches. I wonder 
which one of us is gonna get burnt."

John laughed, "So how long do you think I should let them argue?"

"You can stop them anytime now."

"Okay," replied John with a big smile. He took a deep breath and 
let out a great big groan. 

Like magic, both doctors stopped arguing and raced to the side of 
the patient. As one, they asked, "Where does it hurt?"

"My ears!"

Again as one, "Your ears?"

"Yeah, you two were shouting loud enough to wake the dead!"

"You are the most..." replied both doctors as one. They both 
glared at each other and then began again, "You are driving..."

John interrupted, "So Dr. Simpson, are you gonna offer Dougie 
here a job?"

"Looking?"

"Yes."

"Credentials?"

"Mayo Clinic."

"Okay."

"Great."

"When?"

"One month."

"Good. Nurse, get some bandages."

As one, the two doctors turned to John. This time the groan that 
escaped from John was real. Alarmed the doctors asked, "What's 
the matter?"

"I think I've let two monsters loose on the world."

"John, I shouldn't have let your brother rescue you when you were 
drowning!"

"John, I should have let you die on that operating table!"

Nurse John returned with bandages. It took the doctors several 
minutes to remove the old dressing and examine the wound. It had 
healed at an unprecedented rate. The two doctors stared at the 
wound in wonder. Dr. Simpson stated, "Incredible. It looks like it 
has been healing for two weeks instead of two days."

"I can see that. The mobility of the arm is amazing. With a hole 
that big, he should have significant stiffness."

"Well, will I live?"

Doug replied, "Yes. Must be all the meanness in you."

Dr. Simpson added, "And people consider me cantankerous. A few 
of them ought to meet you! I'm thinking about keeping you in here 
forever."

John smiled and winked at Nurse John. He suddenly leaned up and 
kissed Dr. Simpson on the lips. Leaning back, he smiled, "I'm all 
yours until you check me out of here!"

"Damn it, stop doing that! If my colleague concurs, you are leaving 
first thing in the morning!"

"John, there are times when I'm sorry I ever knew your brother. 
Every one of those times, you've been involved. Next time you do 
something like that to a doctor, I'm going to recommend they send 
you to a vet for treatment! You're leaving in the morning. If I know 
you, you'll corrupt all of the nurses here. I wouldn't want that, 
particularly since I'll be working here soon."

"Nurse John, do you want to tell them?"

"Leave me out of it. They'll discover in good time what kind of 
influence you've had here on the staff!"

Both doctors left the room shaking their heads. John watched them 
leave with an amused smile. He turned to Nurse John and stated, 
"They get along well, don't they?"

"He's the first doctor I've seen come in here that has a chance of 
outlasting Dr. Simpson," replied the black man. He shook his head 
at the exchange between the two doctors; an interview of one-word 
statements that lasted twenty seconds. 

John got out of the bed stating, "Well, I'm gonna go finish Treasure 
Island with Cindy Wilson."

He left the room leaving an amused nurse behind. Nurse John 
heard him say with an exaggerated pirate accent, "Avast, prepare 
to be boarded, me pretty!"

That was followed by an embarrassed giggle from Lucy. Nurse 
John shook his head in wonder. Some patients made the job 
worthwhile. Even the doctor had said that about John. That guy 
had brought more than one smile to this place. 

John woke up in the middle of the night thinking he was having an 
erotic dream. It took him several minutes to realize that it wasn't a 
dream, but someone was sucking his cock. Keeping his eyes closed 
he whispered, "If that's you, Nurse John, I'm gonna be real 
disappointed!"

He smiled at the giggle and opened his eyes. She was a shadow 
against the dull illumination that seeped from under the door. As 
she moved up his body, Nurse Lucy stated, "Avast, me hearty, 
prepare to be boarded!"

With that, she lowered herself onto his erection. He sighed in 
pleasure as the warm, moist sheath of her sex enveloped his cock. 
He moved his hand to her body and ran it up her torso. It was with 
a little disappointment that he encountered her nurses uniform. As 
he ran his hand down her body, he felt where she had lifted her 
skirt to allow her to straddle him. She undulated by moving her 
hips, rising gently, as she worked his hard cock within her. She 
sighed, "Oh, it's so big."

He sighed, "Oh, it's so tight."

He could feel his excitement building quickly. If he didn't slow 
things down, he would come soon. She stopped moving and started 
milking his cock with her cunt. He had to fight off having an 
orgasm. Then he realized that she was breathing hard and was 
building to one of her own. The contractions along his cock got 
stronger. He grunted, "Oh, I'm going to come."

As he started lifting his hips to increase the sensation, she started 
thrashing above him in orgasm. He let loose right after her. She 
collapsed on him in the exhaustion that follows orgasm and held 
him tight. He put his arms around her and drifted off to sleep.

Morning came and he examined his meager possessions. His pack 
and walking stick were there. He checked his watch and pockets. 
Everything was there. Satisfied, he settled into the wheelchair 
stating, "Homeward, James!"

Nurse John chuckled, "Your departure has created quite a stir."

"Oh?"

Nurse John wheeled him into the hallway. Every female in the 
hospital was spaced along the corridor. This included the 
accountant, the day and night nurses, the secretary, the lab 
technician, and the sixty-year-old cleaning lady. Each was wearing 
a blond wig, short white skirt, a top that was unbuttoned one button 
too many, garter belt and white stockings, and brandishing a 
thermometer. The grins were infectious. John burst out laughing, 
"Oh ladies, you are great. I'm gonna miss all of you!"

Even Dr. Simpson, while trying to look stern, was smiling, "You 
degenerate. Look at what you did to my staff!"

As they passed the cleaning lady, John stated in a stage whisper, 
"Myrtle, you better watch out for that old geezer. He'll be chasing 
you around the halls in a minute!"

Myrtle actually blushed, but retorted, "Chase? Who said I was 
gonna run?"

Dr. Simpson was left stuttering. It was at that moment that he 
realized John Carter knew the name of everyone in the hospital. He 
couldn't believe that even the night nurse was participating. She 
had the reputation of being a prudish old hen.

As they passed the door to the room next to his, he called inside, 
"Good bye, Cindy. Remember what I told you. If mean old Dr. 
Simpson gives you a hard time, you just kiss him on the lips."

 From inside the room, Cindy answered, "Goodbye, Mister John. 
I'll remember."

John smiled as they went further down the hall. When they passed 
the accountant, he again used the stage whisper, "Louisa, 
remember it goes, one for you, one for me, one for you, two for 
me, and so on."

"Se Senior, I remember. Dr. Simpson be poor real soon," she 
replied with a smile. She glanced up at the doctor meaningfully as 
he made a face.

As they went down the hall, he made similar comments to every 
one. A personal joke to each. When they got to Lucy, he signaled 
her to come close. He was about to say something to her when she 
beat him to the punch, "Avast, me hearty, prepare to be boarded."

When she wiggled her hips suggestively, he laughed, "Shiver me 
timbers!"

Finally, they reached the end of the hall where the two doctors 
were standing. He turned to Dr. Simpson and stated in mock 
seriousness, "It's been fun working on your bedside manner with 
you."

There was a snort of laughter from the waiting room. Dr. Simpson 
answered, "It has been a real pleasure having you here, John. Don't 
you know that country doctors are supposed to be cantankerous 
and ill tempered? If I don't live up to expectations, no one around 
here will get cured."

John sat back in surprise, "Huh?"

"Now if you don't get out of here, I'll take Dr. Wilkins' advice and 
send you to the nearest veterinarian. I hear he's meaner than hell."

"Yes sir!"

Doug took over the wheelchair from Nurse John. Nurse John 
stepped around the wheel chair and knelt next to the patient. John 
looked at the black man. He extended his hand, "Thanks, Nurse 
John. May the Gods and Goddesses bless you."

Nurse John interrupted, "I know what you're gonna say next. If 
either doc gets too big for his britches, I'm supposed to give them a 
big kiss on the lips!"

There was another snort from the waiting room. A comment 
floated out from inside, "Damn Doc is gonna get kissed a lot from 
now on!"

Doug screamed in mock horror, "My God, we had better get him 
out of here before he corrupts all of the patients too!"

As Doug wheeled him out of the hospital, John shouted, "Goodbye 
everyone."

A chorus of good-byes followed them out of the building. As Doug 
pushed the wheelchair towards his rental car, he asked, "How do 
you do it?"

"Do what?"

"What you did in there."

"I really don't understand what you are talking about."

"You really don't, do you?" replied Doug. He shook his head in 
amazement. He added, "You get shot. You die. You recover. You 
heal in record time. You walk around a hospital and learn 
everyone's name. You have private jokes with them. They all know 
you and like you. They get dressed up in ridiculous garb to say 
goodbye. No one was upset to see you leave, but everyone felt 
better knowing you. You did all of that in three days. How do you 
do it?"

"It wasn't me. I didn't do anything. Everyone in there is a nice 
person and they were nice with me."

"You believe that, don't you?"

"It's the truth."

Doug walked in silence for a few steps. He finally stated, "I have 
to take you by the Sheriff's office. They want to talk to you before 
you leave town. His daughter is going to be there. A little later a 
reporter from the local papers will come. Can you handle it all?"

"Sure Dougie."

They put his gear in the back of the car that Doug had rented. John 
sprang out of the chair and got behind it to push it back to the door. 
Doug ran up to him and wrestled the chair from him. It wasn't 
tough since John could still use only one arm. He growled, 
"Hospital rules state that you have to ride to the car in a 
wheelchair. You then get in the car while an authorized employee 
of the hospital returns the chair. At that point, you can do anything 
you want."

"You mean I can strip and dance naked on top of the car if I 
want?"

"Sure, you can. We're going to the Sheriff's office anyway. It 
doesn't matter to me if you get there in handcuffs or not."

John seated himself in the car and waited for Doug to return. 
Before long, they were pulling out of the hospital. John was silent 
for a minute and then spoke up, "You're gonna like it here. I know 
it. The people are nice; good people if you know what I mean."

"Yes, I will like it here." 

"Good. I've worried about you since my brother died," replied 
John. He thought about how Doug had reacted when Eric died. He 
had locked himself in his room for a month; inconsolable from the 
loss of his best friend. 

Doug pulled off the road and turned to face John. "You don't have 
to worry about me any more."

John stated, "I know that. Take care of the people here. Find love 
and new friends. You deserve to enjoy life a little bit."

"I'll try," Doug replied. He was quiet for a moment and then 
suggested, "Let's get to the Sheriff's office before they get 
worried."

It was only five minutes later that they arrived at the Sheriff's 
office. John stepped out of the car and looked around taking in his 
surroundings. It was a nice little community. Next to the Sheriff's 
office was the feed store. He had been right, it was one street over 
from main street. He could smell the feed grain in the air and took 
pleasure in the slightly sweet odor. He entered the Sheriff's office 
and shouted, "Hey, Sheriff. I heard there was a warrant out for my 
arrest and I've come to give myself up!"

The Sheriff looked up and saw John. His neighbor Myrtle worked 
at the hospital. She had told him all about a wonderful person that 
was a patient there. She had related that he took a real interest in 
her and her life. She said this kid actually helped her as much as he 
could although he could only use one arm. He had seen her leave 
for work this morning all dolled up like a nurse hooker. She had 
blushed and told him that all the women in the hospital were doing 
it. He replied, "Sorry, all the cells are booked up. You'll have to 
come back tomorrow!"

"Drat, I even combed my hair for my mug shot!"

The sheriff laughed, "Doesn't help. Don't you know that we law 
types rough up the suspect so that they look guilty before we take 
the picture?"

Doug shook his head, "Sheriff, I think you'd be doing the whole 
world a favor by locking this guy up."

John smiled, "My manners are horrible. Sheriff, this is Dr. Doug 
Wilkins. Doug, this is the Sheriff."

The Sheriff nodded, "I hear you're the new doctor in town."

"How did you know that?"

"My neighbor, Myrtle, told me."

John interjected, "Doug, you're gonna love Myrtle. She has a son 
in the army; he's a guard at the Egyptian Embassy. Her daughter is 
married to an accountant and is a nurse in Denver. She has a major 
crush on Dr. Simpson. She makes sure that he gets lots of rest and 
eats regularly. You're gonna have to work on that when you get 
here."

The Sheriff stared at John in amazement. He had known Myrtle for 
years and didn't know she liked the doctor. He turned back to 
Doug, "When will you be starting?"

"I'll be starting in a month."

"Great. We can use another doctor. Dr. Simpson hasn't had a day 
off in a decade. We're taking up a collection to send him to Hawaii 
for a week."

John whipped out his wallet and pulled out a twenty. He handed 
the money over to the Sheriff and stated, "Here's my contribution."

The Sheriff took the money and set it on his desk. It didn't surprise 
him at how fast John had reacted, not after what he had learned 
about him over the past few days. He cleared his throat, "Now to a 
little business. The reward is $20,000. Are you sure that you want 
it distributed as you said in the hospital?"

"Sure, why would I change my mind?"

"No reason, I just wanted to double check," replied the Sheriff. He 
still had a hard time believing the guy would give away the reward. 
He picked up his notebook, "I talked to your father. He's agreed to 
forward any messages to you about the trial. You can expect to get 
a query from the district attorney shortly."

"Okay. Anything I can do to help."

 The Sheriff was quiet for a minute. There was a rather pained 
expression on his face as he wrestled with how to make a request. 
With a frown he stated, "John, I have to ask you for a personal 
favor."

"Ask away."

"My daughter is coming here in about 10 minutes."

"Great. I'd like to meet her. She seemed like a nice girl. You must 
be very proud of her."

The Sheriff's frown deepened, "Well, not exactly."

"Oh? Tell me about it." John turned to look directly at the Sheriff, 
giving him his total attention. For the Sheriff it was like finding 
himself in a spotlight. 

"She has the morals of an alley cat. She's going to come here and 
want to thank you personally. I won't tell you not to, but I would 
appreciate it if you turned her down. It's not that I don't like you, 
it's just that I can't condone her behavior."

John nodded and thought about it for a half a minute. He spoke, "I 
understand. It must be very hard for you."

The Sheriff just nodded. He hated having this conversation. 

"Is she going to school?"

"No."

"I take it that she has no future plans."

"Right."

"Okay. Don't worry about it. Everything's going to be all right." 
The tone of John's voice brooked no argument. There was an eerie 
sense of power behind those words.

The Sheriff shook his head. Doug had seen John do some very 
weird things in the past. He knew by the tone in his voice that he 
was going to make everything all right. Doug interrupted, "Sheriff, 
can I talk to you privately for a minute?"

The two men stepped into a back room. John sat in the office 
looking around at the décor on the walls. There were pictures of 
the Sheriff in military uniform, hunting, and a much younger 
version standing proudly by a car. On one of the shelves was a 
football trophy that stated he had been an All State player. There 
was a picture on the desk of his family showing an attractive 
woman, a much younger daughter, and him in a suit.  There was an 
Irish Setter sitting in front of the family. 

The girl from the convenience store bounced into the office 
interrupting his examination of the room. She was wearing 'fuck-
me' clothes. The shirt was excessively short, the blouse was 
transparent without a bra underneath, and her shoes had five-inch 
heels. Her makeup was applied just a little too thickly. She slid 
easily onto his lap, cooing, "My hero!"

Expecting a much different response, she shrank back when he 
coldly answered, "I saved your life. It is mine to decide what to do 
with it."

"Huh?"

He took his index finger and placed it squarely upon her forehead. 
He intoned, "You shall enter school. You shall get a degree in a 
subject that interests you. You shall control your sexual desires 
with a toy until you meet the man you will marry. You shall marry 
a nice and decent man that shares your sexual energy. You and he 
shall make mutually satisfying accommodations for your sexual 
urges. You shall get a job that is a career and you shall excel in it. 
So it has been said, so shall it be!"

The power that had been building in the room suddenly collapsed 
and flowed into John. A huge shock of electricity flowed from him 
to her. Eyes wide, she shook her head as though to clear it. She 
demurely stood up and sat in a chair across the room from her. 
John looked up to see the Sheriff and Doug staring at him. Doug 
had a small smile; he remembered when John had done the same 
thing to him. Now he was a doctor and a very good one. She was 
going to be all right now.

John looked at the Sheriff, seeing a tear roll down his cheek. He 
guessed that Doug had told him about his experience. John smiled 
at the girl and in a very gentle tone of voice asked, "I'm afraid that 
we haven't been introduced yet. In fact, nobody has told me your 
name. I'm John Carter and you are?"

"I'm Amy."

"Amy, that's a very nice name. I am so happy to see that you're all 
right. I didn't know what happened to you after I lost 
consciousness. I was worried that I had been too late."

She smiled, "I know. My dad told me that the first thing you did in 
the hospital was to ask about me. I really thought you were dead. 
There was just so much blood. Dad wouldn't let me go to the 
hospital because he said that you weren't allowed visitors."

"Well, I'm happy that things worked out so well."

The Sheriff hesitantly interrupted, "Ah, Amy. I hate to say this, but 
the newspaper guy is going to be here in a few minutes. I imagine 
there will be pictures. Would you mind changing clothes?"

Amy's immediate reaction was to bristle in defiance, but her 
reaction was immediately muted. Puzzled, she answered, "You 
might be right. Something a little more conservative might be 
appropriate."

She stood and nodded to the occupants of the room, "Excuse me, 
I'll be right back."

After she left, John turned to the Sheriff, "She seems like a very 
nice girl; lots of potential. I expect to hear great things about her in 
the future."

"Thanks."

The three men chatted about the area while waiting for Amy to 
return and the newspaper reporter to arrive. The time was spent 
talking about hiking trails, good sights to see nearby and good 
places to live. Doug was beginning to get enthusiastic about 
moving into the area. 

Everyone arrived and the newspaper reporter took down the details 
of the attempted robbery. Amy told her story. She explained how 
John had rescued her from certain death. The Sheriff told about the 
history of the suspect. He described how many people the boy had 
killed over the past two months. Finally, the reporter turned to 
John and asked, "How's it feel to be a hero?"

"Oh, I'm not a hero. I just tried to diffuse the situation by getting 
between the robber and the girl. I knocked him out quite by 
accident when I got shot."

"Not a hero?"

"Nope. The hero is Dr. Simpson who was able to save my life. You 
guys have a great hospital here. Speaking of which, I'd like to 
introduce Dr. Doug Wilkins. He's joining the staff at the hospital in 
a month. You might want to talk to him."

The reporter turned his attention to the doctor, feeling rather 
fortunate in getting two stories out of one trip. The rest of his visit 
was spent discussing the doctor's background and qualifications. 
John sat back and watched with a satisfied look on his face as 
Doug became ever more animated.

Once the interviews were over, the reporter asked them to pose for 
a picture. First he took a picture of Amy and John and then he took 
a picture of Doug. Satisfied, he left. It wasn't until he left that he 
realized that he had only asked one question of John. 

John and Doug followed him out of the Sheriff's office after saying 
their good-byes to Amy and her father. As they walked down the 
street to where Doug had parked the rental, a young boy raced in 
front of them. John reached out and grabbed the boy before he 
stepped in the street. It was fortunate because a car came around 
the corner and would have hit the kid. He didn't notice the flash of 
the camera behind him. John knelt down, "Hey, you've got to look 
both directions before crossing the street." 

The newspaper article told the story of a hero who saved the life of 
Amy and noted that his heroism didn't end there. He had also saved 
the life of Jimmy Jones who had almost been run over by a car. 
The article described how the modest and disarming John had 
made friends in the hospital and helped bring a new doctor in the 
area. 

Chapter 5

The walls of the room were bare except for a handful of posters 
showing Ansel Adams photographs. The accordion doors of the 
closet were open allowing the contents to be viewed. There was a 
handful of shirts hanging from clothes hangers. The shelf along the 
top of the closet contained camping equipment such as, tents, 
sleeping bags, canteens, knives, axes, and similar gear; souvenirs 
of a youth spent camping. Everything in the closet, including the 
equipment, was too small for him or too worn to be used. 

In the corner of the room was the backpack he had been using on 
his last hike. It was open and contained one shirt and two pairs of 
pants. His other shirt had been cut apart when he had been taken to 
the hospital. There were the spare socks and underwear. Every 
other day, he had to wash his clothes to have clean clothes 
available. He knew he would have to buy more clothes soon. Next 
to the backpack was the walking stick.

There were only three pieces of furniture in the room, a bed, a 
chest of drawers, and a bookcase. The first shelf of the bookcase 
held books about hiking and survival, including a complete set of 
Foxfire books. The rest of the shelves contained science books 
covering mathematics, electronics, biology, chemistry, and 
physics.

Everything was just as he had left it, years ago when he had gone 
off to college. It was a Spartan room. As he often told visitors, he 
liked to live simply and be able to take off on a moments notice for 
the great outdoors. All of his college possessions fit in three boxes. 
One box of clothes, one box of books, and one box of hiking gear. 
He had mailed them to himself in care of the university's 
department of physics. His roommates had laughed when they had 
seen him move. They had rented U-Haul trucks to carry their stuff 
away. 

Lying upon the bed with his hands clasped behind his head, John 
Carter stared up at the ceiling. He was restless and felt like 
something was pulling him from the house. He had been at his 
parent's house for ten days. He felt fully healed although he had 
been shot two weeks ago. He'd rather be hiking, but his shoulder 
was still sore and couldn't carry much weight. He wouldn't have a 
chance for an extended hike until next summer. Between now and 
then, all he would be able to do is take short weekend hikes. 

Giving into the pull, he grabbed his walking stick and left the 
house. He ambled randomly down various streets, but headed in a 
direction that was generally towards the center of town. He took 
his normal hiking pace, stopping occasionally to observe his 
surroundings. He passed by trees that he had climbed as a child, 
houses where his classmates had lived, and other places that were 
special. Everything looked a little older, a lot smaller, and more 
worn down than he remembered.

As he passed one house, he remembered Jenny. She had lived here 
when he was in high school. He smiled with his recollection of her. 
He had lost his virginity to her one afternoon in the woods behind 
the high school. She was a popular girl in school and he was the 
lone wolf - a wanderer even at that time. He never understood why 
she had decided to take him into the woods that day. 

His experience, in hindsight, was not particularly great, but at the 
time he was ecstatic and couldn't have imagined better. Yes, he had 
fumbled through getting out of his clothes with fingers that no 
longer seemed his own. Yes, he had climbed on her in the 
missionary position without much foreplay at all. It had taken him 
longer to get his cock into her than he spent actually fucking. 
However, her expectations didn't seem to be much beyond what 
she had experienced. That afternoon, and for years afterwards, she 
was the most beautiful woman that he knew. They had never 
repeated the experience, but she had always acted kindly towards 
him.  

Losing his virginity had opened some sort of door within him. He 
spent hours reading everything about sex that he could find. For a 
time, it seemed like his hand was always wrapped around his cock. 
Then one day, he realized that he had been a rather lousy lover. It 
was an amazing revelation to him and one that he knew he had to 
correct as quickly as possible. His reading changed from getting 
off to learning how to be better in bed.

It was a couple of years later before he had sex with his second 
lover. That time he had been much better. There had been lots of 
foreplay and it had been good for her. She had come before he 
even entered her. However, his personal performance still was bad. 
Again, it had taken him longer to get his cock inside her than he 
had spent in her. This was his second great sexual revelation. Not 
only did he need to learn what actions to perform, but he also had 
to learn out to control himself. 

His masturbation took a different direction. Now instead of trying 
to get off as quickly as possible, he tried to see how long he could 
make it last. It was a difficult habit to break. He had years of 
furtive masturbation where his goal had been to get off before 
someone might discover what he was doing. Now he had to plan 
his activities where he could expect to be alone for a significant 
amount of time. His efforts paid off. It took a while, but the time 
came when he was able to last for more than fifteen minutes with 
his girlfriend. She seemed to enjoy the experience much more. 

She broke up with him a couple of months later. Her reason for 
leaving him crushed his self-esteem. During a fight involving some 
minor difference of opinion about the color of a rug, she had 
launched the salvo that killed the relationship. She had stated that 
his lovemaking was mechanical and he did the same thing every 
time. In effect, she had told him he was a lousy lover.

He had walked away and never saw her again. It wasn't until 
several months later, when circumstances had forced him to take 
the same hiking trail four weekends in a row that he understood. 
The first time along the trail was exciting. Every corner lead to a 
new view. The second time was just as good as the first. That time 
he noticed things that he hadn't seen the first time through. The 
third time, the trail seemed comfortable. No surprises, nothing 
new, and somewhat boring. Still, the simple act of hiking had 
relaxed him and put him in a nice state of mind. The fourth time 
had been horrible. There was nothing new and his hike had seemed 
mechanical. He walked, but his step carried an air of impatience. 
He hardly looked around at the sights around him. When he had 
reached the end of the trail, he didn't really remember how he had 
gotten there. 

Variety was just as important as performance. One time it could be 
slow and sensual. The next time it could be wild abandon. Another 
time, maybe fast, furious and powerful was appropriate. Since sex 
didn't involve him alone, it was something that had to be right for 
both of them. From that time to the present, no woman had ever 
complained about his lovemaking. 

As he stood outside of Jenny's house, he wondered what it would 
be like to sleep with her now. In a way, it saddened him that his 
first time had been so poor. It was true that he had been ignorant, 
but it was a lost opportunity for a much greater shared mutual 
pleasure. He shook his head and returned to the reality of his 
surroundings.

His stomach rumbled and he glanced at his watch. He had been 
wandering for an hour now and was just a block from downtown. 
He decided to walk into town and get a bite to eat. When he 
reached downtown, he was shocked at how much it had changed 
and then realized that six years had passed since he had been there. 
He looked around at the stores and noted that there were three 
places to eat. The old hamburger joint that had served root beer in 
frosty mugs was gone. He felt drawn to the little cafe that 
announced its presence with a dainty little sign proclaiming it to be 
the 'Soup Shoppe.'

As he entered the cafe, he stopped and looked around. It was a 
cozy little place with small tables covered with red and white plaid 
tablecloths. There were little vases with a single flower on each 
table. A white board covered with feminine handwriting presented 
the dishes served. The soup de jour was Wisconsin Beer Cheese 
Soup, which happened to be his favorite. He noticed they had 
sandwiches listed and decided upon a roast beef sandwich. His 
stomach announced its' concurrence with his decision by emitting a 
long low rumble. 

He selected a table next to the wall and leaned his walking stick 
against the wall where it would be out of the way. He had just 
seated himself when he heard a choking sound from one of the 
other people in the dinner. He looked around and noticed a portly 
old man gesturing frantically. His companion and other diners in 
the cafe started to panic. No one moved. John stood and walked 
calmly to the man. Lifting him out of the chair, he performed the 
Heimlich Maneuver. On the second attempt, the guy ejected a 
piece of breadstick and his breathing returned to normal.

Satisfied that the guy was okay; he patted him on the back. "Better 
watch out for those breadsticks, they can be killers."

The guy turned around to see his savior. "Thanks so much."

At the sound of the man talking, the other diners broke out into a 
momentary applause and then returned to their meals. A common 
topic was the choking incident. The applause brought the waitress 
from back where she was informed by one of the other patrons of 
the events that had just occurred.

It took a moment for John to recognize the man he had just saved. 
"Mr. Means! How are you doing?"

"Much better now." He reached down and took a sip of water. The 
coolness eased a little of the irritation in his throat.

"I'm John Carter. You were the principal at the high school when I 
was a student. It is so nice to see you again."

Mr. Means was still in the process of recovering from his 
experience. He vaguely recalled the young man. Then he 
remembered the incident that had brought this student some 
notoriety. John had been somewhat of a loner and troublemaker. 
Then one night, his brother, the Wilkins boy, and him had been 
drinking and probably doing drugs. The boys had a fight and his 
brother had driven away leaving the other two several miles 
outside of town. The brother had wrapped the car around a tree and 
died. Afterwards, John remained a loner, but he was no longer a 
troublemaker. His grades improved and he disappeared into the 
background. "Your timing is impeccable. So what are you doing 
here?" 

"Oh, I'm recovering from a minor injury. I'll be going to the 
University of Texas in a couple of weeks to work on my doctorate 
in Physics."

"Really?"

"Yes. Are you still the principal?"

"Yes, but this is my last year. I'm retiring."

"Wow, that's great. Tell me, what are you planning on doing?"

"Oh, I'll play some golf, work in my woodshop, and putter about 
the house. I'm looking forward to it." Mr. Means was not too 
concerned with his retirement. Years teaching school had taught 
him how to fill his summers with activity and live with his wife. 
He had known many people that had retired and died from 
boredom shortly afterwards.

John nodded to Mr. Means and his dining companion. She was 
probably his wife by the way she was acting. He smiled, "Well that 
sounds great. Now, I'll leave you to finish your meal with 
companion here. Just watch out for those breadsticks."

Taken off guard, Mr. Means replied, "Thanks. Take care of 
yourself."

The waitress came over to John's table and stated, "Thanks for 
saving him. Your lunch is on the house."

John shook his head, "No need. I was just the first one there. I'm 
sure someone else would have stepped in if I hadn't been here."

He stopped a moment and looked at the waitress. His mouth slowly 
opened as he recognized her. Time had not been exactly kind to 
her. She was still an attractive woman, but when she was younger, 
she had been amazingly beautiful. He exclaimed, "Jenny, is that 
you?"

She started and looked again at the customer. She realized who he 
was. "Well, I'll be. John Carter?"

"Oh, this is amazing. I was out walking and passed by your house. 
It brought back so many memories."

Jenny blushed as she remembered her high school days. She had 
been so popular then. Every guy was trying to sleep with her. The 
only one who treated her like a human had been John. He just 
nodded to her when she walked past with her followers. He'd stop 
and talk to her when she was alone and upset. He never put any 
pressure on her.  She'd even slept with him once, but learned that 
he was like everyone else in bed. Afterwards, he was still the same 
old John. He wasn't possessive and didn't stalk. He still nodded to 
her or stopped to talk. He also didn't tell stories and that was 
important to her.

Now she was a single mother raising a five-year-old boy on the 
little money that the cafe brought. The father didn't even know he 
was a father. Truth to tell, she didn't know who the father was. Too 
much booze at her first college party and her life was changed 
forever. She decided that memories weren't very great to have. 
"Are you back here for good?"

"No, I'm just visiting for a couple more weeks. Then it's back to 
school for me."

The mention of school made her flinch. Her answer suggested the 
lack of enthusiasm for the topic. "Oh, that's nice."

John examined her for a moment. He noticed there wasn't a 
wedding ring on her finger. He suggested, "How about you have 
dinner with me tonight after you close up the shop instead of 
buying me lunch?"

Jenny licked her lips and blurted out, "I can't. I have a son and I 
really have to go home and take care of him."

Without hesitation, John answered, "No problem. How's this? You 
get your son and I'll find a place that all three of us will enjoy."

Jenny hesitated. This was the first offer to get out of the house 
since her son had been born. In a way, she needed this very much. 
She whispered, "Okay."

John replied, "Great! I'll walk around and find the perfect place. 
How old is your son?"

"Five."

"Oh, that's a great age. So much of the world is still new to them. 
It's fun exploring the world with someone that age."

Jenny stepped back in surprise, "What do you know about kids that 
age?"

"Oh, I babysat a lot when I was an undergraduate," he replied. His 
stomach growled loudly impatient at the delay in being filled. 

Jenny laughed aloud. It was a genuine laugh and not the kind she 
often used when customers told bad jokes. Her hand went up to 
fiddle with her hair, "I think your stomach is trying to tell us 
something. What can I get you to eat?"

They went through the ordering procedure typical of all 
restaurants. She disappeared for a moment and returned with a 
bowl of soup. Other customers demanded her attention and she 
was busy while he ate his soup. He watched her move around the 
room interacting with people. She would occasionally glance in his 
direction and smile. As soon as he finished the soup, she returned 
to the table with his sandwich. With a roll of her eyes, she stepped 
away from the table to serve a customer that had snapped his 
fingers to get her attention. 

Mr. Means stopped by his table and gave thanks again. He also 
introduced his wife, who spent a few minutes thanking him for his 
heroism. John shrugged it off as though he had done nothing. The 
couple left arm in arm.

He had just finished his sandwich when Jenny arrived at the table. 
He noticed that he was the last customer in the cafe. She sat in the 
chair across from him with a smile, "Now that we've fed that 
animal in your tummy, maybe we can talk a little."

John smiled appreciatively. In the half an hour since he had entered 
the cafe, it seemed as though five years had dropped from her face. 
He reached across the table and touched her hand, "That would be 
great. It's so nice to see you again."

Jenny sat up a little straighter and pulled her shoulders back. It had 
the effect of emphasizing her breasts. "I was always comfortable 
talking with you. Do you know that you were the only guy in 
school that treated me like a human being and not a sex object?"

John shrugged, "I was still in a state of shock over my brother's 
death. I appreciated being able to talk to you on occasion. You 
were very nice and didn't treat me like a pariah. So what has life 
after high school been like for you?"

Jenny frowned and stated, "Well, I went off to college and got 
pregnant. Came back here and had Davie. Then I opened this 
place. For the last five years, I work here from the morning to the 
afternoon and then go home to take care of the kid."

His reaction surprised Jenny, "Wow, you are so ... so brave and 
independent. I can't imagine raising a kid and running a business at 
the same time. That's amazing!"

Jenny sat back and stared at John. She viewed her life as a deeply 
entrenched rut. Everyday seemed to blend into the next without 
distinction. Yet, when she looked at it from his perspective, it did 
seem to have a little more meaning. She hesitated, "I never really 
saw it that way before."

He smiled and patted her hand, "You're just being modest."

A confused look passed over her face. She stuttered, "Not really."

John looked around the cafe and noticed the dirty plates on tables. 
Realizing that she was uncomfortable with the topic, he chose to 
change it. "How about I bus the tables while you straighten up 
here? Then I'll go and find a place for our date tonight giving you a 
chance to finish up your work here without trying to entertain me."

Jenny smiled, relived at the suggestion and thankful for the help. 
She answered, "That would be great."

True to his word, he bused the tables with his normal efficiency. 
After finishing that minor chore, he learned when and where to 
pick her up that evening. Grabbing his walking stick, he left the 
restaurant while waving goodbye to Jenny. Behind him, a very 
happy Jenny returned to her work.

At five o'clock John knocked on the door of the address that Jenny 
had given him. The door was opened by a five year old boy. John 
knelt down so that he was at eye level with the child. Without 
extending his hand, he greeted the boy, "Hello. I'm John. You must 
be Davie."

The child nodded solemnly. The man in front of him looked 
strange with part of his beard white and the rest brown. He held a 
staff in his hand. Davie finally stuttered, "Are you a wizard?"

John scrunched up his features as if he was thinking hard, "No! 
Were you going to challenge me to a wizards' duel?"

"No."

"Oh, that's good, cause I know you would have beaten me. I'm not 
good at magic."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really!"

Davie relaxed a little. This was the first time that a man had come 
to their house and he was a little unsure what he was supposed to 
think. He asked, "Are you the guy taking mom and me somewhere 
tonight?"

"Yep!"

"Where are you taking us?" Davie asked. 

"That's a surprise. I'm sure you'll like it, though!"

Jenny appeared behind Davie and greeted John, "Hello. You're 
right on time!"

"I try to be prompt. Are you guys ready?"

Jenny inspected Davie making sure that he was wearing his shoes. 
Satisfied that Davie was ready she answered, "Yes we are. Where 
are we going?"

"It's a surprise, mommy!"

"Really?"

John answered, "Yes, really. Now let's get in the car and I'll take 
you there!"

They piled into the car with the giddiness of kids. Jenny felt years 
younger and John just was young. Davie was the only one acting 
his age. After a little hassle over him wanting to sit in the front 
seat, John was able to convince him that it was hard to be a 
Chauffeur when the important person was seated in the front seat. 
John took the walking stick apart and set it on the seat between 
him and Jenny. Turning to face the back seat, he asked, "Is the 
Master ready to leave?"

"Yes! Let's go! Follow that car!" giggled Davie.

Jenny smiled at the easy banter between John and Davie. She had 
worried about Davies' reaction to having a man show up at the 
house. She guessed she was lucky that it was John. He had a very 
disarming way about him.

It was a short drive to the place that John had picked for the date. It 
was a combined miniature golf course and go-cart racetrack. She 
looked at John in surprise, "Here?"

Davie uttered one word in an awed voice, "Cool!"

John smiled and only stated, "Let's go guys!"

For the next three hours, they played miniature golf, ate, and drove 
go-carts. Davie won the prize for high score in miniature golf. The 
prize was Cotton Candy on a paper cone. The prize quickly 
disappeared. He was delighted. John and Davie had gone on the 
go-cart racing Jenny. John drove while Davie encouraged him to 
go faster and faster. They tied and had to share the first-place prize 
of Nachos. They had a little racetrack with electric cars that went 
about as fast as a walk. Davie drove his car on the track against 
four other kids. John and Jenny were jumping up and down along 
side the track cheering him on. He came in second place and was 
flushed with excitement. 

The only negative of the evening was when one kid swung a putter 
at the head of another. The blow, which would have been very 
damaging, had been blocked by John who had inserted his putter in 
the path. The mothers of the two children were frantic and thanked 
John profusely, but he just shrugged it off. He was fortunate that 
Jenny and Davie were in the bathroom at the time, so it didn't spoil 
the evening.

Davie was tired by the time they headed back to the car. He offered 
no resistance to getting in the back seat or buckling his seat belt. 
He fell asleep after uttering a weak, "Follow that car."

On arriving at Jenny's house, John carried Davie into the house. He 
followed Jenny to Davies' bedroom and laid him on the bed. He 
stepped back and whispered to Jenny, "They're so cute when they 
fall asleep like that."

She smiled and went to get Davie dressed for bed. John discretely 
stepped out of the room and retraced his steps to the living room. 
He looked around the room at the toys scattered on the floor, most 
of them in front of the television. It looked like any other living 
room that was occupied by a five year old kid. 

He sat on the couch to wait for Jenny. He continued his 
examination of the room from his position. There were very few 
pictures or items of a personal nature reflecting Jenny. Most of the 
pictures were of Davie. Despite the apparent chaos due to scattered 
toys, the room was neat. There wasn't any dust or empty plates 
scattered about. Things that were out of Davies' reach were in their 
place. Despite her circumstances, she still managed to keep track 
of the important details.

Jenny entered the room and immediately began to apologize, "I'm 
sorry the house is such a ..."

John interrupted, "Your house looks like every house that has 
children. I think that if I ever went into a house that was spotless 
and had children, I wouldn't like the children and I'd hate the 
parents that forced their kids to live that way. Kids are messy and 
to pretend otherwise is wrong."

Jenny laughed, "You always did know the right thing to say to 
me."

John smiled as she joined him on the couch. She leaned her head 
against his good shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her. They 
sat there quietly just enjoying each other's company. After a while, 
John noticed the deep regular breathing that indicated Jenny had 
fallen asleep. He carefully got up and laid her down on the sofa. 
Looking around, he spotted a blanket. He got it and laid it over her. 
Kissing her on the forehead, he went to the door and turned to take 
one last look at her. She was beautiful again. He left the house, 
locking the door behind him.
<1st attachment end>


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