Chapter 1

Burt Hendrix, here. Faithful husband, father of two wonderful kids, father in all but decree of a third, owner of our family ranch. We raise cattle, sheep, chickens, a few pigs and my wife Maria has a garden she's built up over the years from a small patch to enough to keep both our family and the caretaker and his family in produce year round, as well as bringing in a pretty penny from the coop market in town.

During the past nine months, my life has radically changed three times.

The first was when I talked my son, Val, into taking a wilderness survival course. He went to a class a couple of Saturdays, saw some films and listened to some lectures. I think there were about a dozen kids there, all in their late teens. Then they paired up and took off for a three or four day trek through the wilderness. They had a map, a compass and whatever they could carry with them in the dead of winter in western Montana. It was closely supervised, each team having different start and end points, each person wearing a transponder in case he got in trouble.

His partner was picked up a few days after they were supposed to be home. He had some story about Val doing things he never would have done that changed every time he told it. The bottom line is that Val had disappeared, washed away in a river, his transponder lost and hadn't been heard of since.

Three and a half months later we got a phone call from Val. All of us had given him up for dead. I'd been living with the idea that I'd sent him to his death, holding it in, not telling anyone my feelings. Which may have had something to do with the second way my life changed.

I got cancer. Me. The guy who didn't smoke, hardly every cussed or took a drink, watched my cholesterol, carbs and all the stuff you're supposed to watch. I lived with it and my denial a while, then went to a doctor who told me it was bad. Real bad.

Now, a few things happened to Val while he was gone. First, he got frostbite in one foot and should have lost it, if not his life, the way he tells it. He also got speared by a tree branch while being dragged down the river unconscious. That was infected and oozing pus when he lay down to die in a cave he came across after stumbling around in the mud and the rain for hours. The last thing he did was wash off both injuries with water from a pond that was inside the cave.

He woke up about three months later. The wounds were healed as if they'd never existed. He was also more developed than before. He was in pretty good shape when he started from living and helping out on the ranch for 18 years. When he awoke, he found he'd bulked up. He added 20 mph or so to his fastball and was able to take a mountain sheep out with a rock, finishing it off by lifting the 600 plus pound animal off the ground by its horns, then twisting it to break its neck as if it was a chicken.

As Ron Popeil would say, "But wait. There's more!" After the initial shock, we all accepted his extraordinary strength because he didn't flaunt it and he also had something more extraordinary. He discovered he could wish for things and that they would happen. After playing around with it, learning some from his mistakes, he took it seriously.

Val tried to wish the cancer away. Unfortunately, the first thing he tried was to make it stop spreading from my stomach to other parts of my body. He stopped the spreading but all the cancer that was moving into my digestive tract was now concentrated in my stomach. The doctors gave me three to six weeks to live. Or they could start cutting pieces out of me, starting with my stomach.

I told Val to take me to his cave. I wrote up my will and a couple of days later I said goodbye to my wife and my daughter. Val, my adopted daughter Bev, who was his girlfriend (and for all intents and purposes, his wife) and I took off for the cave.

We took our time because of my condition. If it had been another mile further, I don't know if I would have been able to make it.

The cave was prepared for us. There was a new sleeping area big enough for Val and Bev to spread out their sleeping bags.

Bev got me situated in the place Val had slept for all those months, then gave me some water from the pond to drink. The last thing I remember is putting my head on her lap as she brushed some hair out of my face. Then I woke up to the most wonderful smell of meat cooking.

As I sat up, I felt different. First off, the constant pain in my gut was gone. There was no doubt in my mind that I was cancer free and would remain so. I felt more alive than I had when I was a teenager and felt the world was just waiting for me to conquer it. I felt my arms and chest and my muscles were developed more than ever before. I was slimmer. I had abs that would make the guys from Jersey Shore cry. I also had an erection that would have scared Bev's mare.

Val and Bev were squatted near an open fire, their backs to me, talking about finishing up the meat. I said something about being glad to help and she jumped up, squealed and ran back to me, jumping into my arms so the only thing I could do was catch her and hold on. She's lucky I didn't spear her with Mr. Happy; instead, he found a comfortable place to rest between her delightfully naked buns. I'd awoken with an erection like when I was a teen, only I'd grown a couple of inches, in both directions.

I commented on her nudity, figuring it was the polite thing to do. What do you do in a situation like this, where a beautiful naked woman is pressing her chest into you and you're nestled in her rear? Pretend not to notice? Women's lib or not, that would be rude. Her answer was that it was liberating to be naked in the outdoors.

Bev had obviously partaken of the waters, too. She had been a cute kid who grew up to be a beautiful woman but now she was perfect. All three of us were. Not like Charles Atlas or a female weightlifter on steroids. We were sleek, muscular, fast, human animals. And now that Val had others to play with, his improved physique was once more evident. But the beauty was just part of the package. The three of us were in perfect health. I had an idea we would remain so. If not, the cave was right here for a booster.

Three big changes. Lose and get back son, get cancer and its resultant death sentence, get cured and be given a new life.

Bev was due to go back home the next day so she could start her senior year in high school with Vicky, my natural daughter. Vicky and Maria were going to wait for her where they dropped us off, three and a half weeks ago. Strange how I woke up just in time to spend one day with them, getting used to my new body, then the rest of my family would be a few miles away the next day.