See Jack Die (PART 4) HTML version
9:34 PM . . .
“ . . . 'e's comin' back now,” Ms. Josephine said as my eyes fought their way open.
“Two full bags,” Ricky says as he flashes a small pen-light into my left eye. It might as well
have been a police spotlight it was so damn bright. A miniature nuclear explosion. It felt the same
as looking directly at the sun . . . through binoculars.
I squinted, saying, “You're going to burn out my retinas. Stop that.”
“I need to check the dilation and make sure your eyes still track correctly.” Then he did the
same test on my right eye. “Okay, buddy. You're going to live.”
Thanks Doctor Kevorkian.
“You wake somebody up from the dead and this is the thanks you get? And besides, you're too
young to know who Jack Kevorkian is,” Ricky joked.
Death makes a man grouchy, I say as I clear my throat. I read about the good doctor in Science
Digest. Hey, how long have I been out?
Ricky looks at his watch, touching a button that illuminates the time, “You passed-out an hour
or so ago. The time is nine thirty-five.”
I still see forms and shapes racing around in front of me. What's going on? I asked.
“ . . . dat movie is still goin', child,” Ms. Josephine said quietly.
That . . . is a long movie.
“Yeah,” Ricky added, “ . . . and there's still fifteen or twenty minutes left. As long as this film
has been on, and as many people as this queen has slept with, you'd think she'd already be
showing signs of pregnancy. This movie makes me want to take the pill myself.”
Then he pointed towards a blurry image, “Look, everyone in the royal court has a smile on
I look over at the large tub of popcorn and it's nearly empty. I can see the bottom of the bucket
through the few kernels that remain. My eyes look uncomprehendingly at Ricky.
“Hungry, dude,” was his explanation. I wonder how that is even possible.
“You got down to ninety-three-point-one!” he warned as he looked over his notepad. “That's
not as cold as before, but you were only under for forty-three minutes.”