Chapter 8: The Battle Begins

I hope the few who have followed this story so far still enjoy it...

John:

I hurt all over. Fierce pain shot through me. My lungs were on fire every time I tried to take more than a shallow breath. Something was stuck in my mouth and down my throat. Ii choked me. I struggled and finally got my eyes to open.

The bright light hurt my eyes and I blinked and tried to shade them, but I couldn't. There were loose leather cuffs on my wrists. Jesus, but I hurt. I tried to say something but the pain was too great. I ended up grunting. Just as the darkness began to close back in on me again, a voice said, "He's waking up." Then I closed my eyes and passed out once more.

I opened my eyes and looked around me. Julie sat in a chair across the room. She was sprawled out, legs and arms akimbo, her head down with her chin resting on her chest. I smiled to myself for a moment. Then the memories of all the events started crowding back at me and I grunted in anger. I clearly remembered the cop had deliberately pulled his gun and shot me. It felt like a horse kicked me in the chest. Then I remembered losing consciousness as I fell into a dark pit.

Her eyes flew open and she screamed, "John, ohmigod John. You're awake! You're alive. Oh I was so frightened you were going to die. Oh John." She got up and rushed over to the bed and started to cry.

The cuffs had been removed from my wrists and I was able to reach out and touch her cheek with the back of my fingers. It hurt to move. She took my hand in her two smaller ones and brought it to her lips and kissed the palm. "Hi." I whispered to her, so very thankful she was there beside me. She stood up and looked down at me for a moment, then kissed me softly, oh so gently, on the lips. She gave me what was without a doubt the most wonderful kiss I ever had given me. It was soft, sweet and full of love. It was a kiss of promise and commitment. It was the perfect kiss. "I love you and I want a drink," I whispered to her.

"Oh." she exclaimed and reached for the ever-present glass of water with the bent plastic straw in it sitting on the nightstand. Julie was careful as she inserted the straw in my mouth and I drew in one light sip, then another. At last, I gulped down almost half of the glass of water before turning my face away from it. The straw to dropped from my lips and spilled a few drops of water on my chest. "Oh John. I love you so. Please get well and out of here just as fast as you can. I can't imagine life without you. Oh, my John, my love." Those wonderful lips caressed my forehead, then my mouth. I started to get a hard on.

I took her hand and placed it on the small tent I was making with the covers. "Oh." she exclaimed, startled. "John, you're hurt."

"Yeah." I whispered back at her, "But my injuries aren't anywhere near what you got hold of."

She gave it a squeeze and let go. "John, you're either incorrigible or insatiable. I don't know which."

"How about both?" I whispered. My throat felt like it had been sandpapered.

Just then, the nurse came in and saw Julie as she removed her hand. She grinned at my mini-tent and said, "Well, I see we're improving." Then she winked at Julie who blushed. The nurse then turned her attention to me and asked, "How's the cowboy?"

"Pretty good, considering," I whispered to her.

"Oh, Oh." she exclaimed, "No voice? Well, it happens, sometimes when we shove things down your throat. Your lung had to be re-inflated after it collapsed. You should feel better by tomorrow or the next day. Drink lots of water and don't try anything too strenuously. You better let your profile rest until you get out of here." She grinned at Julie when she said it. She left with a big grin plastered all over her face.

"John, I do believe you are a corrupter of all womankind. She was probably a very virtuous woman until you came into her life. Am I going to have to fight off all the women in town over you? I will, you know." She bent over and kissed me again. I gave her shapely butt a little pat and she nuzzled my chin and sighed.

Suddenly my mind became clear. "Hon, we have to get the bumper stickers made up. Buy airtime on Channel Three and announce a contest with no prizes. Call it the "Name That Bumper Sticker Contest." All bumper stickers selected will have the name of their authors as a credit on each one used. See if the station will give us a break on the cost."

"John, I think you had better take a look at the news," she told me.

She pointed at the TV I didn't realize was already on. There our blond bimbina was in front of the camera, beautifully turned out and talking. "Yes, it is truly amazing how many people have brought their own creations in to the station to be submitted to the Bumper Sticker Committee for consideration." She took a sheet of paper off her desk and held it up to the camera. On it was a drawing of something long and tubular in shape with the words, "Hey Mayor. Swing On This Profile."

She grinned a very mischievous grin and said, "This is one of the less controversial ones. You should see what some of them have to say."

Then Julie told me, "After you said your campaign was going to be bumper stickers and posters, people started to call in and email possible bumper stickers. They brought them in and had them faxed in. We even got some by messenger service. John, you are a very famous man right now."

"Well, I guess you could say I had an idea whose time had come," I whispered. I sipped a little more water and went back to sleep.

It was night when I reawakened. Julie was still there. I shifted in bed and she turned from the TV and smiled at me. "John. You should see some of the bumper stickers. They are cute.' She brought a handful of sheets of paper over and showed me. "Babs brought these over to show you. She dropped them off and left when she saw you were asleep.

One read, "I was going to vote for the mayor before he tried to steal this crummy bumper sticker." another said, "Vote for the Great Profile - It's on the rise." and yet another said, "Vote for the Great Profile, as seen on TV." "This Profile Ain't No Weenie." and on and on they went. I have heard of elections being won by a nose, but never by a pecker length.

My chest still hurt and I was thirsty and sleepy. I drank more water and pulled the IV out of my vein. I all at once realized they had been pumping me full of painkillers. "John." Julie exclaimed when she saw what I had done. "Don't. The doctor ordered it for you."

"Well, I just un-Ordered it. I hate drugs." I rolled over and went back to sleep while deciding to fight going back to sleep. Some time later, I came awake feeling a little more alert than before. The drugs had worked themselves pretty much out of my system I figured. At least I could think again. Julie was missing and there was a big black man sitting in her chair.

"Who the hell are you, another cop?" I asked him.

"Naw, I'm your guardian angel and personal errand boy," he answered with a grin. "Just call me Bucky, but don't call me boy." He was still grinning when it suddenly dawned on me who he was.

"You're Bucky Buckminster." I told him.

"I am already aware of who I am," he answered.

"What the hell are you doing in my room?"

"Well, I see at least someone in your family recognizes me. Your lady hired me to protect your hide after the cop shot you. Would you believe it? The son of a bitch popped you right in front of a hundred witnesses, just like he was God or somebody else important."

"Oh yeah." I answered as the memory of the shooting and the cop grinning and then a black man hit him. "You're the one who hit the son of a bitch, aren't you?"

He grinned a very complacent grin and said, "The son of a bitch is upstairs in intensive care with a broken jaw and multiple concussions. One of the nurses upstairs is a sister and she told me all about it." He doubled up his fist and smirked at it, "I guess this old boy still got his magic dynamite in him."

I winced as I remembered the TV shot of a football game he played in where the opposing right guard kept fouling him. The cameraman picked up his voice as he yelled, "One more time of this shit and you're out of here." The idiot poked at Bucky through the face guard on his helmet and Bucky drew back and struck the other man's helmet so hard it cracked. From then on no one messed with him on or off the field. I also remembered when he quit pro sports, he told the reporters how he didn't want to end up as a worn out old cripple like Joe Namath. Namath was reported to have said, at least he was a rich worn out old cripple.

"Where's Julie?" I asked.

"Oh, she's over at Channel Three giving an interview. Tuesday is Election Day and she is trying to keep the momentum rolling. Right now you've got a lock on a little over ninety percent of the registered voters. She thinks it would be sweet if you got a hundred percent of the votes cast. She is truly something else."

Just then a cop, Lieutenant whoever, came in and ordered Bucky, "Out. Visiting hours are over and this man is under arrest for assaulting a police officer." He gestured with his thumb towards the door and repeated, "Out."