by David Allen
“After that, I think you need to go home and rest,” she said. “You’re exhausted, Jerry.”
Jerry looked back at her. “I’ll stay calm. I’m no more tired than you. I’m going to stay with my friend.”
Before she could stop him Jerry turned and hurried down the hall. He picked up the phone and punched in the number. It rang twice.
“Hello? Henrich speaking...”
“Hi, it’s Jerry.” He leaned on the counter, stopping to collect himself. “Scott is worse. They gave him an antibiotic that wasn’t diluted properly, and he‘s unconscious. Can your wife help?”
The line crackled. “Why didn’t you call sooner?” Henrich’s voice became audibly upset.
“It just happened right now. Before he was fine, we were talking and everything,” Jerry said defensively.
“Okay then, we’re on the way out the door,” Henrich said.
Jerry heard the phone click and the disconnected beeping. He set the phone down. What should he do? An idea came to his brain. Maybe he was delusional, maybe not. Charcoal. His tired mind grasped at the idea.
That would help Scott. He turned from the phone and walked toward the hospital exit, through the door, and out into the sunny street.
Only a few very high clouds floated in the salty breeze. The dawn did not reflect the past night’s chaos.
Where could he find charcoal? Jerry’s brain raced around the island. The store wouldn’t be open yet. Not the school. What about the hospital he had just exited? He paused. Best not to bother the nurses again after his outburst. Only one place left. There would be some charcoal in the teachers’ dormitory.
Jerry hurried down the street and around the corner. He arrived at the apartment out of breath. He took the side stairs three at a time. Knocking on the door, he heard no answer. He turned the knob, stepped inside, and quickly began looking through the kitchen cupboard. Jerry didn’t notice the man sitting on the couch.
“What are you looking for?”
Jerry turned. Someone with a bandage on his head was sitting on the couch. “Tony?” Jerry stared. “I’m looking for charcoal. Scott’s in the hospital down the street, and he’s unconscious.”
“He’s in the hospital?” Tony was surprised. “From what?”
“An infection from a cut on his foot.”
They hadn’t seen each other since Scott and Tony’s incident.
“Oh,” Tony said. “The charcoal is in that drawer.” He pointed. “Help yourself.”
Jerry returned to the hospital and hurried to Scott’s room. The Henrichs were already there and only glanced up as Jerry walked in. Kathy was adjusting the IV.
“When will the doctor be in?” Mr. Henrich stood popping his knuckles.
“He’s due on the morning boat,” Kathy said. “Any time.” She leaned over Scott, listening to his lungs. She was worried.
The younger nurse came into the room. She looked pale. “I called the pharmacist from Quadraline. He said that unconsciousness and kidney failure could result. All we can do is wait and keep him well hydrated.” She glanced from face to face.
Mr. Henrich let out a deep breath. “That’s just great.”
Jerry saw his opportunity. “Mr. Henrich, everyone. Charcoal will help absorb the infection from the wound, and also any harmful substances. I have some here.” He held up his bottle. The Henrichs and the two nurses turned toward him, skeptical.
Elizabeth reached out and took the bottle. “It’s worth a try, there’s nothing else we can do.” She turned to Kiera. “Lets mix it with water so he can drink it, and prepare a poultice for his foot.”
Jerry watched as the nurses made a poultice and pressed it gently onto the angry red wound and then pumped black charcoal paste down Scott’s throat.
Mr. Henrich watched in silence. “I’m glad to see he’s in good hands. All we can do is wait now.” He turned. “I will go call the district president. I’m sure he’ll want to know about this situation.” He paused and looked at Jerry. “I’ll stop by the dorm and tell Scott’s friends, just in case.” He gave Jerry a meaningful glance. “Jerry, you can supervise any visitors who come.”
Time passed. Jerry sat on his chair. The nurses came in at regular intervals to check on their patient. Several students from the mission came in to see Scott. They stood in solemn huddles, watching. Some prayed, while others just stared wide-eyed. The whole room was quiet, almost reverent.
Some older Christian islanders also came. They talked in hushed tones and prayed. A few cried. Jerry sat motionless, watching through it all. He answered the questions people asked, but otherwise remained quiet.
The room was finally empty. The nurse had left. Jerry sat quietly on the chair, watching the rising and falling of Scott’s chest.
Someone coughed. Jerry looked up. Tony stood silhouetted in the door. He still had the bandage on his head. He looked towards Scott’s still form. He glanced toward Jerry. His eyes were sincere and pleading.
“Could I have just a minute with him?” He paused. “Alone?” His voice was humble and he spoke in a respectful tone, unusual from the normal arrogant Tony.
Jerry rose from his chair. “I’ll stand outside.” He nodded at Tony.
Tony looked down. “Thank you.”
Jerry walked out into the hall and leaned against the wall. He could hear Tony step toward the bed and speak.
“Scott, I’m so sorry, I need to tell you.” Tony’s voice was full of emotion. “You saved my life, you were right to hit me with that chair. I’m sorry for being so arrogant and not listening. I’m sorry about Janet, too. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it.”
Jerry heard the chair squeak and Tony appeared in the door. He wiped a tear from his eye and looked away.
“Thank you.” His voice was husky. “I need to go.” He started walking, then stopped and turned. “Jerry. You’ve always been a true friend to Scott, much better than me.” He nodded, then turned and retreated with rapid steps.
Two hours later the doctor arrived. He was a busy man who supervised six different island hospitals and clinics. He listened to Scott’s lungs while everyone watched.
“It sounds like fluid is collecting.” He replaced his stethoscope around his neck. “I’m sure you have contacted his next of kin. All we can do is pray, it’s all in God’s hands. Good idea with the charcoal, Elizabeth. I just hope it wasn’t too late.” The doctor nodded toward her.
She had called the doctor an hour before and had given him a heavy explanation of Scott’s condition.
Jerry sat silently in his chair. It didn’t matter that the charcoal was his idea. Only one thing mattered. “God, please help Scott make it through the night.”
CHAPTER THREE
The air was heavy, Scott felt himself struggling to breathe. He knew he must be in the hospital because he heard the nurse above him somewhere. Why was he trying so hard? Scott began to relax, he let his muscles loosen and he felt himself sinking into the bed. Everything was so peaceful, so quiet.
The light behind his eyelids swam back and forth, getting darker. It was a dark room to a tired traveler, appealing to his exhaustion. He felt the picture envelope him, dark fuzzy blackness. It was so comfortable, he liked it. He felt warm. Faint at first, a small white spot came out of the darkness. It seemed to expand and push the blackness away. The white-gray mist kept growing until it surrounded Scott. He felt let down. He could feel that something was meant to happen. He looked around and saw ground below him. He felt himself standing and walking. It was foggy.
Scott looked down at his feet. No pain. He shook his arm, no IV. Scott felt energy surging in his veins. He strode along, feeling good. Breathing was easy! He looked around. It was cloudy, but the clouds were lifting. A beam of sun shot through the mist. Hills became visible, dark and indistinct at first, but clearing as the mist lifted. The hills were covered in rich green vegetation. Scott turned his head, his eyes drinking in his dream-like surroundings. He was walking along a dirt road in a valley,
the hills on all sides of him growing larger in the distance. A river ran on the right of the road, and willows and cottonwood grew around the banks. It was still misty, but the temperature was rising. The sun shone onto Scott’s back. As he walked forward, birds chirped, a gentle breeze rustled through the cottonwoods. He could see large outcroppings of rock jutting from among the trees on the hill. As he walked, the road got bigger. There was a large group of trees ahead. He could see people standing around, some with their hands in their pockets, others talking on cell phones. They all seemed to be waiting. As he advanced, Scott could see picnic tables. There were a lot of people, but no one appeared to be doing anything. Oh, there was at least some activity. Scott looked out across the grass, almost like a park. Children were running and playing.
As Scott walked onto the grass, a tall man with piercing, dark eyes looked up from where he was typing on a slim laptop. He was the only one sitting at the tables. He looked very distinguished, and was very well dressed. Over six feet tall, with jet black hair combed impeccably back across his head, along with a quaint little ponytail.
He gazed at Scott, stood and walked energetically across the grass toward him. His face was smooth with a prominent nose, and a thin forehead. He reached a muscular arm out and pumped Scott’s hand in a firm handshake. “I see you’re new here, let me show you around.” His accent was rich and deep. A tingle went up Scott’s spine. He could feel the man’s incredible energy. With one large arm, he reached around Scott in a friendly but overpowering gesture. He turned Scott towards the road. “The people by the trees don’t have a clue.” The man sounded so confident, so much smarter.
“Yes,” Scott sputtered. He felt compelled to agree with this man. “Why are they just standing there?” He felt like a small child being pulled by a large uncle. He looked up timidly.
The man threw back his head and laughed; a deep, bubbling laugh. “Ohhhh, hahaha, you mean you don’t know?”
Scott squirmed. He felt stupid. “Uh, no.” He looked down. Strange. Should he know?
The man pulled Scott closer with his bulging biceps, and spoke in a conspiring whisper. “It’s because they don’t know what I know.” He looked down charismatically. “Oh, don’t feel bad, it’s my secret.” He pulled Scott forward. “That’s why I wait at the park. I’ve seen many, many people come through there.” He loosened his hold on Scott now that they were walking along the road. “When I saw you, I instantly knew you were better. So young, and obviously very smart.” He smiled at Scott. “I pick the brightest and best first.”
Scott felt uncomfortable. He didn’t want to seem stupid. “Thanks, I’m honored.”
The man looked at him, bemused. “Honored?” He laughed. “Oh no…” His voice was playful but firm. “You got it all wrong. You deserve this, it’s yours by right.” He patted Scott on the back. “You have a lot to learn, but you’ll do.”
Scott looked up at the man wonderingly. “What’s your name?”
“What’s my name?” He sounded dumbfounded, then chuckled. “You want to know a secret?” Scott nodded. “I haven’t been asked that question in a long time, not many people ask.” He winked. “Once I show them what I have, they forget all about me and become obsessed.” He held up his hand, “Not that that’s bad, of course, but it is nice to get noticed from time to time.”
“So what’s your name?” Scott asked again.
“Well, what do you think my name is?” He peered at Scott, eyes twinkling. “Should I guess your name?”
“Try,” said Scott frustrated. “If you can’t guess it the first time, then you have to tell me your name.”
“Okay then,” the man muttered. “Very demanding, but that’s good.” His voice trailed off. “Well, let me think.” He seemed to be enjoying himself. He twisted his head suddenly. “It’s Scott.”
Scott felt shocked. How in the world did this man know his name? He was sure he’d never seen him before.
The man grinned. “Lucky guess?”
“No, that’s my name!” Scott said, bewildered. “Do you know me?”
“Maybe yes, maybe no. Like I said, lucky guess.” The man was very intriguing.
“What’s your name?” Scott demanded.
The man cocked his head so his dark hair fell forward. “Oh, but I don’t have to tell you. I guessed your name, now you need to guess mine.” His voice was rich.
“But I couldn’t possibly know,” protested Scott.
“You can call me whatever you want. How’s that?” The tall stranger smiled. “Teacher would be good, because you have much to learn.”
Scott felt subdued. “Okay, Teacher.”
“That’s good, that’s good!” The man couldn’t hide his grin. “Let me show you what you can have!”
“Okay,” Scott said.
Ahead were two roads. One was smoother and swung gradually to the left. A group of bicyclists sailed by smoothly down that road. One man in a biking suit raised a hand and smiled as he passed.
“Beautiful day.” And then he was gone, speeding away.
Scott continued to look around. To the right, another road went up alongside the mountain and disappeared behind some trees. Scott could see it going up the side of the mountain.
“Aww, Don’t look at that road,” the Teacher muttered. “Wrong road.” He pointed down the road the bikers had sailed. “Look there.”
Scott strained his ears. He could hear honking, and he could smell engine exhaust coming up from the valley.
“Come this way.” The Teacher beckoned. He led Scott out between where the road split, and helped Scott climb a large boulder that lay between the junction. From on top, Scott could see both roads much better, the road going up the mountain on his right, and the paved road going down into a valley on his left. He saw brake lights on the left for what seemed like miles and miles and could hear motorists honking. A thin haze of smog hung over the huge traffic jam.
“Want a better look?” The Teacher smiled and held out a pair of binoculars. Scott took them and looked down at the traffic jam. He could see a man standing on his van roof, looking down the road, trying to figure out where the traffic jam ended. Scott thought he looked stressed and frustrated. He also saw the same bikers from earlier walking their bicycles along the side of the road. “Don’t look at the road, look ahead.” The Teacher reached out and bumped the binoculars with a long finger.
Scott moved his eyes where directed and saw distant high-rise buildings through the haze. He strained to see, “Is that smog? I can’t see.” He put the binoculars down. “Why is there such a huge traffic jam? I don’t think I like that road.”
The Teacher laughed and swung his ponytail with a whoosh. “Just goes to show you how popular the road is! You would like that road, especially since I can get you in the fast lane.” He pointed. “See, to the far left.” He pushed the binoculars to Scott. “Take another look.”
Scott lifted the binoculars again. He could see an empty lane to the far left. It was barricaded off with a concrete wall, with guards armed with rifles standing by its only gate. Some people were looking wishfully over the wall from their cars in the traffic jam.
“That’s my V.I.P. lane.” The Teacher puffed out his chest. “I found that my highway was so popular that I had to get a lane made just for me and my friends, because traffic is such a drag. So many people go down this highway that it would be bumper to bumper and near impossible without being in that lane.” The Teacher pointed. “Watch the gate now.”
Scott peered through the binoculars. A green Porsche with a young blonde in it drove up to the gate. A guard walked to her car. She reached out and handed him a small black card. He swiped it in a reader and the gate opened. She drove through and accelerated down the empty lane, passing hundreds of stopped cars in seconds.