Katherine Freymuth
(krfreymuth@home.com)
"Sam, is there something you want to tell me?"
Sam laughed. "Nothing. Why?"
Al hesitated. He wanted to believe Sam but his instincts told him Sam
was lying.
"I just want to make sure you're not doing anything you might regret
later."
"Like what?"
Al hesitated again. He didn't want to ask but he knew Sam's reaction
would give him the answer he needed even if Sam didn't.
"Sam, have you been taking anything during this leap?"
Sam glared at Al. "You mean drugs, don't you? Like LSD or marijuana."
"Yes," Al told him bluntly.
Sam's glared became more intense. "Get out," he told Al with controlled
anger. "I can't believe you'd think that of me. I'm a doctor! I know better
than these dope-heads around me than to take that crap!" He turned his back
on Al and picked up the briefcase. "Just get the hell away from me." With a
final glare at Al, he left the classroom.
Al watched Sam leave, his heart wounded by Sam's words. He sighed with
a mixture of anger and sympathy.
"You may not be taking LSD or marijuana but you sure as hell are taking
something," he said aloud, knowing Sam couldn't hear him.
A Time To Hurt, A Time to Heal