Part 152: House Call
The twilight was slowly creeping up on the beach. The survivors began lighting their torches along the way of the beach. It was becoming like a lighted walkway for those who travel along the beach at night. Many had already settled in for the evening at their camps. Tony was sitting on his favorite spot, cause he always felt the breeze coming up on his face and chest. Feeling the world through his other senses was something he was slowly getting used to. He dreamed of getting off the island and getting his one eye fixed. He knew it could be done; he just wanted to happen sooner than later. Then a familiar small form walked up to him. “Whatcha doing, Tony?” Eddie asked.
“Hey, buddy,” he smiled, “Just feeling the ocean breeze.”
“It is nice tonight,” the little boy sighed, “But then again, it’s nice every night.”
“It the simple things, Eddie. The feel of the wind on your face; the heat of the dying sun. I’ll bet . . .I’ll bet the sunset is beautiful here.”
“You wish you could see it?” Eddie asked.
“I wish I could see it, yes . . .but I would like to see Marita. . .and you especially.”
“That’s nice. You’ll get your eye fixed when we get home right?”
“You bet I will.”
“What else will we do?” the little boy asked.
Tony leaned closer to him and put his arm around him. “Well, lets see. Once we get home, and we managed to get past all the interviews from televisions, newspapers and magazines, we are going to eat all the food we want and that we’ve been missing so badly.”
“I want some ice cream,” the boy laughed.
“Oh, God, me too,” Tony hugged him, “Then I will get my eye fixed. You will go live with your Uncle until you are 18 and then you will come with me.”
“I’d really like that, Tony.”
Marita stepped out from the camp as she was washing her hair. She was trying it and then saw Tony talking with Eddie. She paused, eavesdropping on what they were saying. The blind doctor looked upward as he continued to talk. “Then while you go live with your Uncle, I will be living with Marita in my house back in Los Angeles. Marita will be rich cause she will be collecting all the overtime pay from the airline cause she’s still technically on the clock.”
Marita slightly giggled at his speaking.
“Then I think I will take her to Vegas. We’ll spend an entire two weeks at the Gold Coast hotel. We’ll eat their buffet every day, we’ll visit the Trump Plaza there and then I will take her the Rio. It’s a great hotel that has like a Rio Carnivale theme. We’ll attend a few parties and then I’ll take her up to the roof where we can see the night sky and all the lights. Then I will get down on one knee and propose to her.”
Marita quickly covered her mouth to silent her gasp.
“Propose to her?” Eddie asked.
“Yes, Eddie, under the neon lights and crystal clear Vegas sky, I will ask Marita to be my wife.” Tony said proudly.
Marita then ducked into the tent and sat down. She was choking. She was trying to her breathe, to keep from laughing and crying at the same time. When she quickly ducked away, Eddie was able to see her. The little boy leaned in and whispered, “I think Marita heard what you said.”
Tony leaned in even closer. “I know,” he whispered.
The older man and his younger companion shared a small amount of giggles. Eddie could tell Tony was serious and it was probably just another reason to let Marita know he loved her. He just decided to be playful about it. Eddie then paused as he saw the man called Sawyer walking up to them. He waved at the little boy. “Mr. Sawyer is here.” He shook Tony’s leg.
“Hey, Doc, can I . .uh . .bother you for a few minutes?” the southern man asked.
“Is this about the throat strike I gave you?” Tony asked with concern.
“Naw, Naw, water under the bridge,” Sawyer chuckled, “I just . .uh . .need to ask you some medical questions.”
“Oh, “the blind man then stood up, “Very well. Eddie, why don’t you head into the tent and get ready for bed?”
“Okay,” he said, turning around and walking into the tent.
“Okay, Sawyer,” Tony said, holding his cane, “What seems to be the problem?”
“I’ve been having headaches recently. Damn big ones.” The redneck sighed.
“You take anything for it?”
“Yes, Asprin and lots of it. It ain’t working.”
“What has Jack said?” Tony asked.
“Jack-Ass hasn’t said anything cause I don’t want to go to him about it.” Sawyer confessed, “I was hoping you, being a doctor and all could get me some advice on how to handle it.”
Tony smirked, “I would love to, Sawyer but Jack has an advantage over me. He has a pair of working eyes.”
“Please, c’mon, man . . .can you help me?”
The blind doctor smiled. It clearly seemed he wouldn’t go to Jack unless he was probably dying and even then, he might wait to the last minute. “All right, then, how about this? Are you drinking your water?”
“That’s a stupid question, Of course I am drinking my water!” he grunted.
“Maybe you are not drinking enough?” Tony suggested.
“What do you mean, not enough?” the southern man then got serious.
“Well, we are trapped on an island jungle. A jungle that has humidity, oppressive heat. Many factors that could sap our water out of blood stream. We must replace it constantly.”
“I don’t think I am going to die of thirst, Doc.” Sawyer sighed, not getting anywhere.
“There are other things worse than dying of thirst. The fact that you mention headaches leads me to another possible theory. One I have unfortunately had to deal with already.”
“What do you mean?”
“One of my previous party died of a brain aneurysm.”
“Brain Aneurysm?” Sawyer blinked.
“Yes, he wasn’t drinking enough water and he was getting headaches. Then when he stooped down to have a bowl movement, the pressure of the thin blood veins of his brain just burst.”
“He died . . . taking a crap?” the southern man gasped.
“Yes, he did. Had he listened to me, he would have probably lived.” Tony sighed.
“What . .what was he supposed to do?” Sawyer got quickly interested.
“Drink water. As much water as possible. Eat some of the coconuts, cause they are a natural laxative. Stay out of the sun and into the shade. Use the cold ocean water to dip your head into it, relaxing the blood vessels.”
“Really?”
“You ever use a cold pack back home to relieve a headache?” Tony asked.
“Yeah.”
“Same principle.”
“Thanks, Doc! I owe you one.” Sawyer shook his head.
“I hope I helped.” Tony sighed, “If things get worse, please go see Jack.”
“Sure, whatever, “ he said, running off.
Marita then came out and stood next to Tony, taking his hand. The blind doctor held onto her. “Did you help him?” she asked.
“Only if he listened to me.” Tony said.
Marita then looked at Sawyer in the distance. He was taking off his shoes and shirt. Then he proceeded to run into the ocean. “He’s . .he’s heading into the water.” Marita mentioned.
“He’s going to down his head,” Tony smirked, “however, I didn’t mean he had to swim in it. A simple bucket would have sufficed.”
“Tony, you are so bad.” She said, playfully hitting him in the arm.
The other survivors stared in confusion as Sawyer stood knee deep in the water, ducking his head into the waves.
“Hey, buddy,” he smiled, “Just feeling the ocean breeze.”
“It is nice tonight,” the little boy sighed, “But then again, it’s nice every night.”
“It the simple things, Eddie. The feel of the wind on your face; the heat of the dying sun. I’ll bet . . .I’ll bet the sunset is beautiful here.”
“You wish you could see it?” Eddie asked.
“I wish I could see it, yes . . .but I would like to see Marita. . .and you especially.”
“That’s nice. You’ll get your eye fixed when we get home right?”
“You bet I will.”
“What else will we do?” the little boy asked.
Tony leaned closer to him and put his arm around him. “Well, lets see. Once we get home, and we managed to get past all the interviews from televisions, newspapers and magazines, we are going to eat all the food we want and that we’ve been missing so badly.”
“I want some ice cream,” the boy laughed.
“Oh, God, me too,” Tony hugged him, “Then I will get my eye fixed. You will go live with your Uncle until you are 18 and then you will come with me.”
“I’d really like that, Tony.”
Marita stepped out from the camp as she was washing her hair. She was trying it and then saw Tony talking with Eddie. She paused, eavesdropping on what they were saying. The blind doctor looked upward as he continued to talk. “Then while you go live with your Uncle, I will be living with Marita in my house back in Los Angeles. Marita will be rich cause she will be collecting all the overtime pay from the airline cause she’s still technically on the clock.”
Marita slightly giggled at his speaking.
“Then I think I will take her to Vegas. We’ll spend an entire two weeks at the Gold Coast hotel. We’ll eat their buffet every day, we’ll visit the Trump Plaza there and then I will take her the Rio. It’s a great hotel that has like a Rio Carnivale theme. We’ll attend a few parties and then I’ll take her up to the roof where we can see the night sky and all the lights. Then I will get down on one knee and propose to her.”
Marita quickly covered her mouth to silent her gasp.
“Propose to her?” Eddie asked.
“Yes, Eddie, under the neon lights and crystal clear Vegas sky, I will ask Marita to be my wife.” Tony said proudly.
Marita then ducked into the tent and sat down. She was choking. She was trying to her breathe, to keep from laughing and crying at the same time. When she quickly ducked away, Eddie was able to see her. The little boy leaned in and whispered, “I think Marita heard what you said.”
Tony leaned in even closer. “I know,” he whispered.
The older man and his younger companion shared a small amount of giggles. Eddie could tell Tony was serious and it was probably just another reason to let Marita know he loved her. He just decided to be playful about it. Eddie then paused as he saw the man called Sawyer walking up to them. He waved at the little boy. “Mr. Sawyer is here.” He shook Tony’s leg.
“Hey, Doc, can I . .uh . .bother you for a few minutes?” the southern man asked.
“Is this about the throat strike I gave you?” Tony asked with concern.
“Naw, Naw, water under the bridge,” Sawyer chuckled, “I just . .uh . .need to ask you some medical questions.”
“Oh, “the blind man then stood up, “Very well. Eddie, why don’t you head into the tent and get ready for bed?”
“Okay,” he said, turning around and walking into the tent.
“Okay, Sawyer,” Tony said, holding his cane, “What seems to be the problem?”
“I’ve been having headaches recently. Damn big ones.” The redneck sighed.
“You take anything for it?”
“Yes, Asprin and lots of it. It ain’t working.”
“What has Jack said?” Tony asked.
“Jack-Ass hasn’t said anything cause I don’t want to go to him about it.” Sawyer confessed, “I was hoping you, being a doctor and all could get me some advice on how to handle it.”
Tony smirked, “I would love to, Sawyer but Jack has an advantage over me. He has a pair of working eyes.”
“Please, c’mon, man . . .can you help me?”
The blind doctor smiled. It clearly seemed he wouldn’t go to Jack unless he was probably dying and even then, he might wait to the last minute. “All right, then, how about this? Are you drinking your water?”
“That’s a stupid question, Of course I am drinking my water!” he grunted.
“Maybe you are not drinking enough?” Tony suggested.
“What do you mean, not enough?” the southern man then got serious.
“Well, we are trapped on an island jungle. A jungle that has humidity, oppressive heat. Many factors that could sap our water out of blood stream. We must replace it constantly.”
“I don’t think I am going to die of thirst, Doc.” Sawyer sighed, not getting anywhere.
“There are other things worse than dying of thirst. The fact that you mention headaches leads me to another possible theory. One I have unfortunately had to deal with already.”
“What do you mean?”
“One of my previous party died of a brain aneurysm.”
“Brain Aneurysm?” Sawyer blinked.
“Yes, he wasn’t drinking enough water and he was getting headaches. Then when he stooped down to have a bowl movement, the pressure of the thin blood veins of his brain just burst.”
“He died . . . taking a crap?” the southern man gasped.
“Yes, he did. Had he listened to me, he would have probably lived.” Tony sighed.
“What . .what was he supposed to do?” Sawyer got quickly interested.
“Drink water. As much water as possible. Eat some of the coconuts, cause they are a natural laxative. Stay out of the sun and into the shade. Use the cold ocean water to dip your head into it, relaxing the blood vessels.”
“Really?”
“You ever use a cold pack back home to relieve a headache?” Tony asked.
“Yeah.”
“Same principle.”
“Thanks, Doc! I owe you one.” Sawyer shook his head.
“I hope I helped.” Tony sighed, “If things get worse, please go see Jack.”
“Sure, whatever, “ he said, running off.
Marita then came out and stood next to Tony, taking his hand. The blind doctor held onto her. “Did you help him?” she asked.
“Only if he listened to me.” Tony said.
Marita then looked at Sawyer in the distance. He was taking off his shoes and shirt. Then he proceeded to run into the ocean. “He’s . .he’s heading into the water.” Marita mentioned.
“He’s going to down his head,” Tony smirked, “however, I didn’t mean he had to swim in it. A simple bucket would have sufficed.”
“Tony, you are so bad.” She said, playfully hitting him in the arm.
The other survivors stared in confusion as Sawyer stood knee deep in the water, ducking his head into the waves.
posted by Jason | 10:12 AM
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