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 Zalezac 
Copyright (C) Lazlo Zalezak, 2003


Part 1: Shield, Staff, and Compass
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."


