{"id":1038,"date":"2006-07-02T01:12:16","date_gmt":"2006-07-02T06:12:16","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/addlepated.net\/blog\/archives\/1038"},"modified":"2006-07-02T01:14:18","modified_gmt":"2006-07-02T06:14:18","slug":"a-good-story","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/addlepated.net\/blog\/archives\/1038","title":{"rendered":"A good story"},"content":{"rendered":"

This story was posted over on AR15.com<\/a> and I really enjoyed it. I’ve found it on a couple of sites so I’m guessing it’s in the public domain, but if you know the author, please let me know so I can give proper credit.<\/p>\n

—<\/p>\n

So, there’s a man crawling through the desert. <\/p>\n

He’d decided to try his SUV in a little bit of cross-country travel, had
\ngreat fun zooming over the badlands and through the sand, got lost, hit a
\nbig rock, and then he couldn’t get it started again. There were no cell
\nphone towers anywhere near, so his cell phone was useless. He had no family,
\nhis parents had died a few years before in an auto accident, and his few
\nfriends had no idea he was out here. <\/p>\n

He stayed with the car for a day or so, but his one bottle of water ran out
\nand he was getting thirsty. He thought maybe he knew the direction back, now
\nthat he’d paid attention to the sun and thought he’d figured out which way
\nwas north, so he decided to start walking. He figured he only had to go
\nabout 30 miles or so and he’d be back to the small town he’d gotten gas in
\nlast.
\n
\nHe thinks about walking at night to avoid the heat and sun, but based upon
\nhow dark it actually was the night before, and given that he has no
\nflashlight, he’s afraid that he’ll break a leg or step on a rattlesnake. So,
\nhe puts on some sun block, puts the rest in his pocket for reapplication
\nlater, brings an umbrella he’d had in the back of the SUV with him to give
\nhim a little shade, pours the windshield wiper fluid into his water bottle
\nin case he gets that desperate, brings his pocket knife in case he finds a
\ncactus that looks like it might have water in it, and heads out in the
\ndirection he thinks is right. <\/p>\n

He walks for the entire day. By the end of the day he’s really thirsty. He’s
\nbeen sweating all day, and his lips are starting to crack. He’s reapplied
\nthe sunblock twice, and tried to stay under the umbrella, but he still feels
\nsunburned. The windshield wiper fluid sloshing in the bottle in his pocket
\nis really getting tempting now. He knows that it’s mainly water and some
\nethanol and coloring, but he also knows that they add some kind of poison to
\nit to keep people from drinking it. He wonders what the poison is, and
\nwhether the poison would be worse than dying of thirst. <\/p>\n

He pushes on, trying to get to that small town before dark. <\/p>\n

By the end of the day he starts getting worried. He figures he’s been
\nwalking at least 3 miles an hour, according to his watch for over 10 hours.
\nThat means that if his estimate was right that he should be close to the
\ntown. But he doesn’t recognize any of this. He had to cross a dry creek bed
\na mile or two back, and he doesn’t remember coming through it in the SUV. He
\nfigures that maybe he got his direction off just a little and that the dry
\ncreek bed was just off to one side of his path. He tells himself that he’s
\nclose, and that after dark he’ll start seeing the town lights over one of
\nthese hills, and that’ll be all he needs. <\/p>\n

As it gets dim enough that he starts stumbling over small rocks and things,
\nhe finds a spot and sits down to wait for full dark and the town lights. <\/p>\n

Full dark comes before he knows it. He must have dozed off. He stands back
\nup and turns all the way around. He sees nothing but stars. <\/p>\n

He wakes up the next morning feeling absolutely lousy. His eyes are gummy
\nand his mouth and nose feel like they’re full of sand. He so thirsty that he
\ncan’t even swallow. He barely got any sleep because it was so cold. He’d
\nforgotten how cold it got at night in the desert and hadn’t noticed it the
\nnight before because he’d been in his car. <\/p>\n

He knows the Rule of Threes – three minutes without air, three days without
\nwater, three weeks without food – then you die. Some people can make it a
\nlittle longer, in the best situations. But the desert heat and having to
\nwalk and sweat isn’t the best situation to be without water. He figures,
\nunless he finds water, this is his last day. <\/p>\n

He rinses his mouth out with a little of the windshield wiper fluid. He
\nwaits a while after spitting that little bit out, to see if his mouth goes
\nnumb, or he feels dizzy or something. Has his mouth gone numb? Is it just in
\nhis mind? He’s not sure. He’ll go a little farther, and if he still doesn’t
\nfind water, he’ll try drinking some of the fluid. <\/p>\n

Then he has to face his next, harder question – which way does he go from
\nhere? Does he keep walking the same way he was yesterday (assuming that he
\nstill knows which way that is), or does he try a new direction? He has no
\nidea what to do. <\/p>\n

Looking at the hills and dunes around him, he thinks he knows the direction
\nhe was heading before. Just going by a feeling, he points himself somewhat
\nto the left of that, and starts walking. <\/p>\n

As he walks, the day starts heating up. The desert, too cold just a couple
\nof hours before, soon becomes an oven again. He sweats a little at first,
\nand then stops. He starts getting worried at that – when you stop sweating
\nhe knows that means you’re in trouble – usually right before heat stroke. <\/p>\n

He decides that it’s time to try the windshield wiper fluid. He can’t wait
\nany longer – if he passes out, he’s dead. He stops in the shade of a large
\nrock, takes the bottle out, opens it, and takes a mouthful. He slowly
\nswallows it, making it last as long as he can. It feels so good in his dry
\nand cracked throat that he doesn’t even care about the nasty taste. He takes
\nanother mouthful, and makes it last too. Slowly, he drinks half the bottle.
\nHe figures that since he’s drinking it, he might as well drink enough to
\nmake some difference and keep himself from passing out. <\/p>\n

He’s quit worrying about the denaturing of the wiper fluid. If it kills him,
\nit kills him – if he didn’t drink it, he’d die anyway. Besides, he’s pretty
\nsure that whatever substance they denature the fluid with is just designed
\nto make you sick – their way of keeping winos from buying cheap wiper fluid
\nfor the ethanol content. He can handle throwing up, if it comes to that. <\/p>\n

He walks. He walks in the hot, dry, windless desert. Sand, rocks, hills,
\ndunes, the occasional scrawny cactus or dried bush. No sign of water.
\nSometimes he’ll see a little movement to one side or the other, but whatever
\nmoved is usually gone before he can focus his eyes on it. Probably birds,
\nlizards, or mice. Maybe snakes, though they usually move more at night. He’s
\ncareful to stay away from the movements. <\/p>\n

After a while, he begins to stagger. He’s not sure if it’s fatigue, heat
\nstroke finally catching him, or maybe he was wrong and the denaturing of the
\nwiper fluid was worse than he thought. He tries to steady himself, and keep
\ngoing. <\/p>\n

After more walking, he comes to a large stretch of sand. This is good! He
\nknows he passed over a stretch of sand in the SUV – he remembers doing
\ndonuts in it. Or at least he thinks he remembers it – he’s getting woozy
\nenough and tired enough that he’s not sure what he remembers any more or if
\nhe’s hallucinating. But he thinks he remembers it. So he heads off into it,
\ntrying to get to the other side, hoping that it gets him closer to the town. <\/p>\n

He was heading for a town, wasn’t he? He thinks he was. He isn’t sure any
\nmore. He’s not even sure how long he’s been walking any more. Is it still
\nmorning? Or has it moved into afternoon and the sun is going down again? It
\nmust be afternoon – it seems like it’s been too long since he started out. <\/p>\n

He walks through the sand. <\/p>\n

After a while, he comes to a big dune in the sand. This is bad. He doesn’t
\nremember any dunes when driving over the sand in his SUV. Or at least he
\ndoesn’t think he remembers any. This is bad. <\/p>\n

But, he has no other direction to go. Too late to turn back now. He figures
\nthat he’ll get to the top of the dune and see if he can see anything from
\nthere that helps him find the town. He keeps going up the dune. <\/p>\n

Halfway up, he slips in the bad footing of the sand for the second or third
\ntime, and falls to his knees. He doesn’t feel like getting back up – he’ll
\njust fall down again. So, he keeps going up the dune on his hand and knees. <\/p>\n

While crawling, if his throat weren’t so dry, he’d laugh. He’s finally
\ngotten to the hackneyed image of a man lost in the desert – crawling through
\nthe sand on his hands and knees. If would be the perfect image, he imagines,
\nif only his clothes were more ragged. The people crawling through the desert
\nin the cartoons always had ragged clothes. But his have lasted without any
\nrips so far. Somebody will probably find his dessicated corpse half buried
\nin the sand years from now, and his clothes will still be in fine shape –
\nshake the sand out, and a good wash, and they’d be wearable again. He wishes
\nhis throat were wet enough to laugh. He coughs a little instead, and it
\nhurts. <\/p>\n

He finally makes it to the top of the sand dune. Now that he’s at the top,
\nhe struggles a little, but manages to stand up and look around. All he sees
\nis sand. Sand, and more sand. Behind him, about a mile away, he thinks he
\nsees the rocky ground he left to head into this sand. Ahead of him, more
\ndunes, more sand. This isn’t where he drove his SUV. This is Hell. Or close
\nenough. <\/p>\n

Again, he doesn’t know what to do. He decides to drink the rest of the wiper
\nfluid while figuring it out. He takes out the bottle, and is removing the
\ncap, when he glances to the side and sees something. Something in the sand.
\nAt the bottom of the dune, off to the side, he sees something strange. It’s
\na flat area, in the sand. He stops taking the cap of the bottle off, and
\ntries to look closer. The area seems to be circular. And it’s dark – darker
\nthan the sand. And, there seems to be something in the middle of it, but he
\ncan’t tell what it is. He looks as hard as he can, and still can tell from
\nhere. He’s going to have to go down there and look. <\/p>\n

He puts the bottle back in his pocket, and starts to stumble down the dune.
\nAfter a few steps, he realizes that he’s in trouble – he’s not going to be
\nable to keep his balance. After a couple of more sliding, tottering steps,
\nhe falls and starts to roll down the dune. The sand it so hot when his body
\nhits it that for a minute he thinks he’s caught fire on the way down – like
\na movie car wreck flashing into flames as it goes over the cliff, before it
\never even hits the ground. He closes his eyes and mouth, covers his face
\nwith his hands, and waits to stop rolling. <\/p>\n

He stops, at the bottom of the dune. After a minute or two, he finds enough
\nenergy to try to sit up and get the sand out of his face and clothes. When
\nhe clears his eyes enough, he looks around to make sure that the dark spot
\nin the sand it still there and he hadn’t just imagined it. <\/p>\n

So, seeing the large, flat, dark spot on the sand is still there, he begins
\nto crawl towards it. He’d get up and walk towards it, but he doesn’t seem to
\nhave the energy to get up and walk right now. He must be in the final stages
\nof dehydration he figures, as he crawls. If this place in the sand doesn’t
\nhave water, he’ll likely never make it anywhere else. This is his last
\nchance. <\/p>\n

He gets closer and closer, but still can’t see what’s in the middle of the
\ndark area. His eyes won’t quite focus any more for some reason. And lifting
\nhis head up to look takes so much effort that he gives up trying. He just
\nkeeps crawling. <\/p>\n

Finally, he reaches the area he’d seen from the dune. It takes him a minute
\nof crawling on it before he realizes that he’s no longer on sand – he’s now
\ncrawling on some kind of dark stone. Stone with some kind of marking on it –
\na pattern cut into the stone. He’s too tired to stand up and try to see what
\nthe pattern is – so he just keeps crawling. He crawls towards the center,
\nwhere his blurry eyes still see something in the middle of the dark stone
\narea. <\/p>\n

His mind, detached in a strange way, notes that either his hands and knees
\nare so burnt by the sand that they no longer feel pain, or that this dark
\nstone, in the middle of a burning desert with a pounding, punishing sun
\noverhead, doesn’t seem to be hot. It almost feels cool. He considers lying
\ndown on the nice cool surface. <\/p>\n

Cool, dark stone. Not a good sign. He must be hallucinating this. He’s
\nprobably in the middle of a patch of sand, already lying face down and
\ndying, and just imagining this whole thing. A desert mirage. Soon the
\nbeautiful women carrying pitchers of water will come up and start giving him
\na drink. Then he’ll know he’s gone. <\/p>\n

He decides against laying down on the cool stone. If he’s going to die here
\nin the middle of this hallucination, he at least wants to see what’s in the
\ncenter before he goes. He keeps crawling. <\/p>\n

It’s the third time that he hears the voice before he realizes what he’s
\nhearing. He would swear that someone just said, “Greetings, traveler. You do
\nnot look well. Do you hear me?” <\/p>\n

He stops crawling. He tries to look up from where he is on his hands and
\nknees, but it’s too much effort to lift his head. So he tries something
\ndifferent – he leans back and tries to sit up on the stone. After a few
\nseconds, he catches his balance, avoids falling on his face, sits up, and
\ntries to focus his eyes. Blurry. He rubs his eyes with the back of his hands
\nand tries again. Better this time. <\/p>\n

Yep. He can see. He’s sitting in the middle of a large, flat, dark expanse
\nof stone. Directly next to him, about three feet away, is a white post or
\npole about two inches in diameter and sticking up about four or five feet
\nout of the stone, at an angle. <\/p>\n

And wrapped around this white rod, tail with rattle on it hovering and
\nseeming to be ready to start rattling, is what must be a fifteen foot long
\ndesert diamondback rattlesnake, looking directly at him. <\/p>\n

He stares at the snake in shock. He doesn’t have the energy to get up and
\nrun away. He doesn’t even have the energy to crawl away. This is it, his
\nfinal resting place. No matter what happens, he’s not going to be able to
\nmove from this spot. <\/p>\n

Well, at least dying of a bite from this monster should be quicker than
\ndying of thirst. He’ll face his end like a man. He struggles to sit up a
\nlittle straighter. The snake keeps watching him. He lifts one hand and waves
\nit in the snake’s direction, feebly. The snake watches the hand for a
\nmoment, then goes back to watching the man, looking into his eyes. <\/p>\n

Hmmm. Maybe the snake had no interest in biting him? It hadn’t rattled yet –
\nthat was a good sign. Maybe he wasn’t going to die of snake bite after all. <\/p>\n

He then remembers that he’d looked up when he’d reached the center here
\nbecause he thought he’d heard a voice. He was still very woozy – he was
\nlikely to pass out soon, the sun still beat down on him even though he was
\nnow on cool stone. He still didn’t have anything to drink. But maybe he had
\nactually heard a voice. This stone didn’t look natural. Nor did that white
\npost sticking up out of the stone. Someone had to have built this. Maybe
\nthey were still nearby. Maybe that was who talked to him. Maybe this snake
\nwas even their pet, and that’s why it wasn’t biting. <\/p>\n

He tries to clear his throat to say, “Hello,” but his throat is too dry. All
\nthat comes out is a coughing or wheezing sound. There is no way he’s going
\nto be able to talk without something to drink. He feels his pocket, and the
\nbottle with the wiper fluid is still there. He shakily pulls the bottle out,
\nalmost losing his balance and falling on his back in the process. This isn’t
\ngood. He doesn’t have much time left, by his reckoning, before he passes
\nout. <\/p>\n

He gets the lid off of the bottle, manages to get the bottle to his lips,
\nand pours some of the fluid into his mouth. He sloshes it around, and then
\nswallows it. He coughs a little. His throat feels better. Maybe he can talk
\nnow. <\/p>\n

He tries again. Ignoring the snake, he turns to look around him, hoping to
\nspot the owner of this place, and croaks out, “Hello? Is there anyone here?” <\/p>\n

He hears, from his side, “Greetings. What is it that you want?” <\/p>\n

He turns his head, back towards the snake. That’s where the sound had seemed
\nto come from. The only thing he can think of is that there must be a
\nspeaker, hidden under the snake, or maybe built into that post. He decides
\nto try asking for help. <\/p>\n

“Please,” he croaks again, suddenly feeling dizzy, “I’d love to not be
\nthirsty any more. I’ve been a long time without water. Can you help me?” <\/p>\n

Looking in the direction of the snake, hoping to see where the voice was
\ncoming from this time, he is shocked to see the snake rear back, open its
\nmouth, and speak. He hears it say, as the dizziness overtakes him and he
\nfalls forward, face first on the stone, “Very well. Coming up.” <\/p>\n

A piercing pain shoots through his shoulder. Suddenly he is awake. He sits
\nup and grabs his shoulder, wincing at the throbbing pain. He’s momentarily
\ndisoriented as he looks around, and then he remembers – the crawl across the
\nsand, the dark area of stone, the snake. He sees the snake, still wrapped
\naround the tilted white post, still looking at him. <\/p>\n

He reaches up and feels his shoulder, where it hurts. It feels slightly wet.
\nHe pulls his fingers away and looks at them – blood. He feels his shoulder
\nagain – his shirt has what feels like two holes in it – two puncture holes –
\nthey match up with the two aching spots of pain on his shoulder. He had been
\nbitten. By the snake. <\/p>\n

“It’ll feel better in a minute.” He looks up – it’s the snake talking. He
\nhadn’t dreamed it. Suddenly he notices – he’s not dizzy any more. And more
\nimportantly, he’s not thirsty any more – at all! <\/p>\n

“Have I died? Is this the afterlife? Why are you biting me in the
\nafterlife?” <\/p>\n

“Sorry about that, but I had to bite you,” says the snake. “That’s the way I
\nwork. It all comes through the bite. Think of it as natural medicine.” <\/p>\n

“You bit me to help me? Why aren’t I thirsty any more? Did you give me a
\ndrink before you bit me? How did I drink enough while unconscious to not be
\nthirsty any more? I haven’t had a drink for over two days. Well, except for
\nthe windshield wiper fluid… hold it, how in the world does a snake talk?
\nAre you real? Are you some sort of Disney animation?” <\/p>\n

“No,” says the snake, “I’m real. As real as you or anyone is, anyway. I
\ndidn’t give you a drink. I bit you. That’s how it works – it’s what I do. I
\nbite. I don’t have hands to give you a drink, even if I had water just
\nsitting around here.” <\/p>\n

The man sat stunned for a minute. Here he was, sitting in the middle of the
\ndesert on some strange stone that should be hot but wasn’t, talking to a
\nsnake that could talk back and had just bitten him. And he felt better. Not
\ngreat – he was still starving and exhausted, but much better – he was no
\nlonger thirsty. He had started to sweat again, but only slightly. He felt
\nhot, in this sun, but it was starting to get lower in the sky, and the cool
\nstone beneath him was a relief he could notice now that he was no longer
\ndying of thirst. <\/p>\n

“I might suggest that we take care of that methanol you now have in your
\nsystem with the next request,” continued the snake. “I can guess why you
\ndrank it, but I’m not sure how much you drank, or how much methanol was left
\nin the wiper fluid. That stuff is nasty. It’ll make you go blind in a day or
\ntwo, if you drank enough of it.” <\/p>\n

“Ummm, n-next request?” said the man. He put his hand back on his hurting
\nshoulder and backed away from the snake a little. <\/p>\n

“That’s the way it works. If you like, that is,” explained the snake. “You
\nget three requests. Call them wishes, if you wish.” The snake grinned at his
\nown joke, and the man drew back a little further from the show of fangs. <\/p>\n

“But there are rules,” the snake continued. “The first request is free. The
\nsecond requires an agreement of secrecy. The third requires the binding of
\nresponsibility.” The snake looks at the man seriously. <\/p>\n

“By the way,” the snake says suddenly, “my name is Nathan. Old Nathan,
\nSamuel used to call me. He gave me the name. Before that, most of the Bound
\nused to just call me ‘Snake’. But that got old, and Samuel wouldn’t stand
\nfor it. He said that anything that could talk needed a name. He was big into
\nnames. You can call me Nate, if you wish.” Again, the snake grinned. “Sorry
\nif I don’t offer to shake, but I think you can understand – my shake sounds
\nsomewhat threatening.” The snake give his rattle a little shake. <\/p>\n

“Umm, my name is Jack,” said the man, trying to absorb all of this. “Jack
\nSamson. <\/p>\n

“Can I ask you a question?” Jack says suddenly. “What happened to the
\npoison…umm, in your bite. Why aren’t I dying now? How did you do that?
\nWhat do you mean by that’s how you work?” <\/p>\n

“That’s more than one question,” grins Nate. “But I’ll still try to answer
\nall of them. First, yes, you can ask me a question.” The snake’s grin gets
\nwider. “Second, the poison is in you. It changed you. You now no longer need
\nto drink. That’s what you asked for. Or, well, technically, you asked to not
\nbe thirsty any more – but ‘any more’ is such a vague term. I decided to make
\nit permanent – now, as long as you live, you shouldn’t need to drink much at
\nall. Your body will conserve water very efficiently. You should be able to
\nget enough just from the food you eat – much like a creature of the desert.
\nYou’ve been changed. <\/p>\n

“For the third question,” Nate continues, “you are still dying. Besides the
\neffects of that methanol in your system, you’re a man – and men are mortal.
\nIn your current state, I give you no more than about another 50 years.
\nAssuming you get out of this desert, alive, that is.” Nate seemed vastly
\namused at his own humor, and continued his wide grin. <\/p>\n

“As for the fourth question,” Nate said, looking more serious as far as Jack
\ncould tell, as Jack was just now working on his ability to read
\ntalking-snake emotions from snake facial features, “first you have to agree
\nto make a second request and become bound by the secrecy, or I can’t tell
\nyou.” <\/p>\n

“Wait,” joked Jack, “isn’t this where you say you could tell me, but you’d
\nhave to kill me?” <\/p>\n

“I thought that was implied.” Nate continued to look serious. <\/p>\n

“Ummm…yeah.” Jack leaned back a little as he remembered again that he was
\ntalking to a fifteen foot poisonous reptile with a reputation for having a
\nnasty temper. “So, what is this ‘Bound by Secrecy’ stuff, and can you really
\nstop the effects of the methanol?” Jack thought for a second. “And, what do
\nyou mean methanol, anyway? I thought these days they use ethanol in wiper
\nfluid, and just denature it?” <\/p>\n

“They may, I don’t really know,” said Nate. “I haven’t gotten out in a
\nwhile. Maybe they do. All I know is that I smell methanol on your breath and
\non that bottle in your pocket. And the blue color of the liquid when you
\npulled it out to drink some let me guess that it was wiper fluid. I assume
\nthat they still color wiper fluid blue?” <\/p>\n

“Yeah, they do,” said Jack. <\/p>\n

“I figured,” replied Nate. “As for being bound by secrecy – with the
\nfulfillment of your next request, you will be bound to say nothing about me,
\nthis place, or any of the information I will tell you after that, when you
\ndecide to go back out to your kind. You won’t be allowed to talk about me,
\nwrite about me, use sign language, charades, or even act in a way that will
\nlead someone to guess correctly about me. You’ll be bound to secrecy. Of
\ncourse, I’ll also ask you to promise not to give me away, and as I’m
\nguessing that you’re a man of your word, you’ll never test the binding
\nanyway, so you won’t notice.” Nate said the last part with utter confidence. <\/p>\n

Jack, who had always prided himself on being a man of his word, felt a
\nlittle nervous at this. “Ummm, hey, Nate, who are you? How did you know
\nthat? Are you, umm, omniscient, or something?” <\/p>\n

Well, Jack,” said Nate sadly, “I can’t tell you that, unless you make the
\nsecond request.” Nate looked away for a minute, then looked back. <\/p>\n

“Umm, well, ok,” said Jack, “what is this about a second request? What can I
\nask for? Are you allowed to tell me that?” <\/p>\n

“Sure!” said Nate, brightening. “You’re allowed to ask for changes. Changes
\nto yourself. They’re like wishes, but they can only affect you. Oh, and
\nbefore you ask, I can’t give you immortality. Or omniscience. Or
\nomnipresence, for that matter. Though I might be able to make you gaseous
\nand yet remain alive, and then you could spread through the atmosphere and
\nsort of be omnipresent. But what good would that be – you still wouldn’t be
\nomniscient and thus still could only focus on one thing at a time. Not very
\nuseful, at least in my opinion.” Nate stopped when he realized that Jack was
\nstaring at him. <\/p>\n

“Well, anyway,” continued Nate, “I’d probably suggest giving you permanent
\ngood health. It would negate the methanol now in your system, you’d be
\nimmune to most poisons and diseases, and you’d tend to live a very long
\ntime, barring accident, of course. And you’ll even have a tendency to
\nrecover from accidents well. It always seemed like a good choice for a
\nrequest to me.” <\/p>\n

“Cure the methanol poisoning, huh?” said Jack. “And keep me healthy for a
\nlong time? Hmmm. It doesn’t sound bad at that. And it has to be a request
\nabout a change to me? I can’t ask to be rich, right? Because that’s not
\nreally a change to me?” <\/p>\n

“Right,” nodded Nate. <\/p>\n

“Could I ask to be a genius and permanently healthy?” Jack asked, hopefully. <\/p>\n

“That takes two requests, Jack.” <\/p>\n

“Yeah, I figured so,” said Jack. “But I could ask to be a genius? I could
\nbecome the smartest scientist in the world? Or the best athlete?” <\/p>\n

“Well, I could make you very smart,” admitted Nate, “but that wouldn’t
\nnecessarily make you the best scientist in the world. Or, I could make you
\nvery athletic, but it wouldn’t necessarily make you the best athlete either.
\nYou’ve heard the saying that 99% of genius is hard work? Well, there’s some
\ntruth to that. I can give you the talent, but I can’t make you work hard. It
\nall depends on what you decide to do with it.” <\/p>\n

“Hmmm,” said Jack. “Ok, I think I understand. And I get a third request,
\nafter this one?” <\/p>\n

“Maybe,” said Nate, “it depends on what you decide then. There are more
\nrules for the third request that I can only tell you about after the second
\nrequest. You know how it goes.” Nate looked like he’d shrug, if he had
\nshoulders. <\/p>\n

“Ok, well, since I’d rather not be blind in a day or two, and permanent
\nhealth doesn’t sound bad, then consider that my second request. Officially.
\nDo I need to sign in blood or something?” <\/p>\n

“No,” said Nate. “Just hold out your hand. Or heel.” Nate grinned. “Or
\nwhatever part you want me to bite. I have to bite you again. Like I said,
\nthat’s how it works – the poison, you know,” Nate said apologetically. <\/p>\n

Jack winced a little and felt his shoulder, where the last bite was. Hey, it
\ndidn’t hurt any more. Just like Nate had said. That made Jack feel better
\nabout the biting business. But still, standing still while a fifteen foot
\nsnake sunk it’s fangs into you. Jack stood up. Ignoring how good it felt to
\nbe able to stand again, and the hunger starting to gnaw at his stomach, Jack
\ntried to decide where he wanted to get bitten. Despite knowing that it
\nwouldn’t hurt for long, Jack knew that this wasn’t going to be easy. <\/p>\n

“Hey, Jack,” Nate suddenly said, looking past Jack towards the dunes behind
\nhim, “is that someone else coming up over there?” <\/p>\n

Jack spun around and looked. Who else could be out here in the middle of
\nnowhere? And did they bring food? <\/p>\n

Wait a minute, there was nobody over there. What was Nate… <\/p>\n

Jack let out a bellow as he felt two fangs sink into his rear end, through
\nhis jeans… <\/p>\n

Jack sat down carefully, favoring his more tender buttock. “I would have
\ndecided, eventually, Nate. I was just thinking about it. You didn’t have to
\nhoodwink me like that.” <\/p>\n

“I’ve been doing this a long time, Jack,” said Nate, confidently. “You
\nhumans have a hard time sitting still and letting a snake bite you –
\nespecially one my size. And besides, admit it – it’s only been a couple of
\nminutes and it already doesn’t hurt any more, does it? That’s because of the
\nhealth benefit with this one. I told you that you’d heal quickly now.” <\/p>\n

“Yeah, well, still,” said Jack, “it’s the principle of the thing. And nobody
\nlikes being bitten in the butt! Couldn’t you have gotten my calf or
\nsomething instead?” <\/p>\n

“More meat in the typical human butt,” replied Nate. “And less chance you
\naccidentally kick me or move at the last second.” <\/p>\n

“Yeah, right. So, tell me all of these wonderful secrets that I now qualify
\nto hear,” answered Jack. <\/p>\n

“Ok,” said Nate. “Do you want to ask questions first, or do you want me to
\njust start talking?” <\/p>\n

“Just talk,” said Jack. “I’ll sit here and try to not think about food.” <\/p>\n

“We could go try to rustle up some food for you first, if you like,”
\nanswered Nate. <\/p>\n

“Hey! You didn’t tell me you had food around here, Nate!” Jack jumped up.
\n“What do we have? Am I in walking distance to town? Or can you magically
\nwhip up food along with your other powers?” Jack was almost shouting with
\nexcitement. His stomach had been growling for hours. <\/p>\n

“I was thinking more like I could flush something out of its hole and bite
\nit for you, and you could skin it and eat it. Assuming you have a knife,
\nthat is,” replied Nate, with the grin that Jack was starting to get used to. <\/p>\n

“Ugh,” said Jack, sitting back down. “I think I’ll pass. I can last a little
\nlonger before I get desperate enough to eat desert rat, or whatever else it
\nis you find out here. And there’s nothing to burn – I’d have to eat it raw.
\nNo thanks. Just talk.” <\/p>\n

“Ok,” replied Nate, still grinning. “But I’d better hurry, before you start
\nlooking at me as food. <\/p>\n

Nate reared back a little, looked around for a second, and then continued.
\n“You, Jack, are sitting in the middle of the Garden of Eden.” <\/p>\n

Jack looked around at the sand and dunes and then looked back at Nate
\nsceptically. <\/p>\n

“Well, that’s the best I can figure it, anyway, Jack,” said Nate. “Stand up
\nand look at the symbol on the rock here.” Nate gestured around the dark
\nstone they were both sitting on with his nose. <\/p>\n

Jack stood up and looked. Carved into the stone in a bas-relief was a
\nrepresentation of a large tree. The angled-pole that Nate was wrapped around
\nwas coming out of the trunk of the tree, right below where the main branches
\nleft the truck to reach out across the stone. It was very well done – it
\nlooked more like a tree had been reduced to almost two dimensions and
\nembedded in the stone than it did like a carving. <\/p>\n

Jack walked around and looked at the details in the fading light of the
\nsetting sun. He wished he’d looked at it while the sun was higher in the
\nsky. <\/p>\n

Wait! The sun was setting! That meant he was going to have to spend another
\nnight out here! Arrrgh! <\/p>\n

Jack looked out across the desert for a little bit, and then came back and
\nstood next to Nate. “In all the excitement, I almost forgot, Nate,” said
\nJack. “Which way is it back to town? And how far? I’m eventually going to
\nhave to head back – I’m not sure I’ll be able to survive by eating raw
\ndesert critters for long. And even if I can, I’m not sure I’ll want to.” <\/p>\n

“It’s about 30 miles that way.” Nate pointed, with the rattle on his tail
\nthis time. As far as Jack could tell, it was a direction at right angles to
\nthe way he’d been going when he was crawling here. “But that’s 30 miles by
\nthe way the crow flies. It’s about 40 by the way a man walks. You should be
\nable to do it in about half a day with your improved endurance, if you head
\nout early tomorrow, Jack.” <\/p>\n

Jack looked out the way the snake had pointed for a few seconds more, and
\nthen sat back down. It was getting dark. Not much he could do about heading
\nout right now. And besides, Nate was just about to get to the interesting
\nstuff. “Garden of Eden? As best as you can figure it?” <\/p>\n

“Well, yeah, as best as I and Samuel could figure it anyway,” said Nate. “He
\nfigured that the story just got a little mixed up. You know, snake, in a
\n‘tree’, offering ‘temptations’, making bargains. That kind stuff. But he
\ncould never quite figure out how the Hebrews found out about this spot from
\nacross the ocean. He worried about that for a while.” <\/p>\n

“Garden of Eden, hunh?” said Jack. “How long have you been here, Nate?” <\/p>\n

“No idea, really,” replied Nate. “A long time. It never occurred to me to
\ncount years, until recently, and by then, of course, it was too late. But I
\ndo remember when this whole place was green, so I figure it’s been thousands
\nof years, at least.” <\/p>\n

“So, are you the snake that tempted Eve?” said Jack. <\/p>\n

“Beats me,” said Nate. “Maybe. I can’t remember if the first one of your
\nkind that I talked to was female or not, and I never got a name, but it
\ncould have been. And I suppose she could have considered my offer to grant
\nrequests a ‘temptation’, though I’ve rarely had refusals.” <\/p>\n

“Well, umm, how did you get here then? And why is that white pole stuck out
\nof the stone there?” asked Jack. <\/p>\n

“Dad left me here. Or, I assume it was my dad. It was another snake – much
\nbigger than I was back then. I remember talking to him, but I don’t remember
\nif it was in a language, or just kind of understanding what he wanted. But
\none day, he brought me to this stone, told me about it, and asked me to do
\nsomething for him. I talked it over with him for a while, then agreed. I’ve
\nbeen here ever since. <\/p>\n

“What is this place?” said Jack. “And what did he ask you to do?” <\/p>\n

“Well, you see this pole here, sticking out of the stone?” Nate loosened his
\ncoils around the tilted white pole and showed Jack where it descended into
\nthe stone. The pole was tilted at about a 45 degree angle and seemed to
\nenter the stone in an eighteen inch slot cut into the stone. Jack leaned
\nover and looked. The slot was dark and the pole went down into it as far as
\nJack could see in the dim light. Jack reached out to touch the pole, but
\nNate was suddenly there in the way. <\/p>\n

“You can’t touch that yet, Jack,” said Nate. <\/p>\n

“Why not?” asked Jack. <\/p>\n

“I haven’t explained it to you yet,” replied Nate. <\/p>\n

“Well, it kinda looks like a lever or something,” said Jack. “You’d push it
\nthat way, and it would move in the slot.” <\/p>\n

“Yep, that’s what it is,” replied Nate. <\/p>\n

“What does it do?” asked Jack. “End the world?” <\/p>\n

“Oh, no,” said Nate. “Nothing that drastic. It just ends humanity. I call it
\n‘The Lever of Doom’.” For the last few words Nate had used a deeper, ringing
\nvoice. He tried to look serious for a few seconds, and then gave up and
\ngrinned. <\/p>\n

Jack was initially startled by Nate’s pronouncement, but when Nate grinned
\nJack laughed. “Ha! You almost had me fooled for a second there. What does it
\nreally do?” <\/p>\n

“Oh, it really ends humanity, like I said,” smirked Nate. “I just thought
\nthe voice I used was funny, didn’t you?” <\/p>\n

Nate continued to grin. <\/p>\n

“A lever to end humanity?” asked Jack. “What in the world is that for? Why
\nwould anyone need to end humanity?” <\/p>\n

“Well,” replied Nate, “I get the idea that maybe humanity was an experiment.
\nOr maybe the Big Guy just thought, that if humanity started going really
\nbad, there should be a way to end it. I’m not really sure. All I know are
\nthe rules, and the guesses that Samuel and I had about why it’s here. I
\ndidn’t think to ask back when I started here.” <\/p>\n

“Rules? What rules?” asked Jack. <\/p>\n

“The rules are that I can’t tell anybody about it or let them touch it
\nunless they agree to be bound to secrecy by a bite. And that only one human
\ncan be bound in that way at a time. That’s it.” explained Nate. <\/p>\n

Jack looked somewhat shocked. “You mean that I could pull the lever now?
\nYou’d let me end humanity?” <\/p>\n

“Yep,” replied Nate, “if you want to.” Nate looked at Jack carefully. “Do
\nyou want to, Jack?” <\/p>\n

“Umm, no.” said Jack, stepping a little further back from the lever. “Why in
\nthe world would anyone want to end humanity? It’d take a psychotic to want
\nthat! Or worse, a suicidal psychotic, because it would kill him too,
\nwouldn’t it?” <\/p>\n

“Yep,” replied Nate, “being as he’d be human too.” <\/p>\n

“Has anyone ever seriously considered it?” asked Nate. “Any of those bound
\nto secrecy, that is?” <\/p>\n

“Well, of course, I think they’ve all seriously considered it at one time or
\nanother. Being given that kind of responsibility makes you sit down and
\nthink, or so I’m told. Samuel considered it several times. He’d often get
\ndisgusted with humanity, come out here, and just hold the lever for a while.
\nBut he never pulled it. Or you wouldn’t be here.” Nate grinned some more. <\/p>\n

Jack sat down, well back from the lever. He looked thoughtful and puzzled at
\nthe same time. After a bit, he said, “So this makes me the Judge of
\nhumanity? I get to decide whether they keep going or just end? Me?” <\/p>\n

“That seems to be it,” agreed Nate. <\/p>\n

“What kind of criteria do I use to decide?” said Jack. “How do I make this
\ndecision? Am I supposed to decide if they’re good? Or too many of them are
\nbad? Or that they’re going the wrong way? Is there a set of rules for that?” <\/p>\n

“Nope,” replied Nate. “You pretty much just have to decide on your own. It’s
\nup to you, however you want to decide it. I guess that you’re just supposed
\nto know.” <\/p>\n

“But what if I get mad at someone? Or some girl dumps me and I feel
\nhorrible? Couldn’t I make a mistake? How do I know that I won’t screw up?”
\nprotested Jack. <\/p>\n

Nate gave his kind of snake-like shrug again. “You don’t. You just have to
\ntry your best, Jack.” <\/p>\n

Jack sat there for a while, staring off into the desert that was rapidly
\ngetting dark, chewing on a fingernail. <\/p>\n

Suddenly, Jack turned around and looked at the snake. “Nate, was Samuel the
\none bound to this before me?” <\/p>\n

“Yep,” replied Nate. “He was a good guy. Talked to me a lot. Taught me to
\nread and brought me books. I think I still have a good pile of them buried
\nin the sand around here somewhere. I still miss him. He died a few months
\nago.” <\/p>\n

“Sounds like a good guy,” agreed Jack. “How did he handle this, when you
\nfirst told him. What did he do?” <\/p>\n

“Well,” said Nate, “he sat down for a while, thought about it for a bit, and
\nthen asked me some questions, much like you’re doing.” <\/p>\n

“What did he ask you, if you’re allowed to tell me?” asked Jack. <\/p>\n

“He asked me about the third request,” replied Nate. <\/p>\n

“Aha!” It was Jack’s turn to grin. “And what did you tell him?” <\/p>\n

“I told him the rules for the third request. That to get the third request
\nyou have to agree to this whole thing. That if it ever comes to the point
\nthat you really think that humanity should be ended, that you’ll come here
\nand end it. You won’t avoid it, and you won’t wimp out.” Nate looked serious
\nagain. “And you’ll be bound to do it too, Jack.” <\/p>\n

“Hmmm.” Jack looked back out into the darkness for a while. <\/p>\n

Nate watched him, waiting. <\/p>\n

“Nate,” continued Jack, quietly, eventually. “What did Samuel ask for with
\nhis third request?” <\/p>\n

Nate sounded like he was grinning again as he replied, also quietly,
\n“Wisdom, Jack. He asked for wisdom. As much as I could give him.” <\/p>\n

“Ok,” said Jack, suddenly, standing up and facing away from Nate, “give it
\nto me. <\/p>\n

Nate looked at Jack’s backside. “Give you what, Jack?” <\/p>\n

“Give me that wisdom. The same stuff that Samuel asked for. If it helped
\nhim, maybe it’ll help me too.” Jack turned his head to look back over his
\nshoulder at Nate. “It did help him, right?” <\/p>\n

“He said it did,” replied Nate. “But he seemed a little quieter afterward.
\nLike he had a lot to think about.” <\/p>\n

“Well, yeah, I can see that,” said Jack. “So, give it to me.” Jack turned to
\nface away from Nate again, bent over slightly and tensed up. <\/p>\n

Nate watched Jack tense up with a little exasperation. If he bit Jack now,
\nJack would likely jump out of his skin and maybe hurt them both. <\/p>\n

“You remember that you’ll be bound to destroy humanity if it ever looks like
\nit needs it, right Jack?” asked Nate, shifting position. <\/p>\n

“Yeah, yeah, I got that,” replied Jack, eyes squeezed tightly shut and body
\ntense, not noticing the change in direction of Nate’s voice. <\/p>\n

“And,” continued Nate, from his new position, “do you remember that you’ll
\nturn bright purple, and grow big horns and extra eyes?” <\/p>\n

“Yeah, yeah…Hey, wait a minute!” said Jack, opening his eyes,
\nstraightening up and turning around. “Purple?!” He didn’t see Nate there.
\nWith the moonlight Jack could see that the lever extended up from its slot
\nin the rock without the snake wrapped around it. <\/p>\n

Jack heard, from behind him, Nate’s “Just Kidding!” right before he felt the
\nnow familiar piercing pain, this time in the other buttock. <\/p>\n

Jack sat on the edge of the dark stone in the rapidly cooling air, his feet
\nextending out into the sand. He stared out into the darkness, listening to
\nthe wind stir the sand, occasionally rubbing his butt where he’d been
\nrecently bitten. <\/p>\n

Nate had left for a little while, had come back with a desert-rodent-shaped
\nbulge somewhere in his middle, and was now wrapped back around the lever,
\nhis tongue flicking out into the desert night’s air the only sign that he
\nwas still awake. <\/p>\n

Occasionally Jack, with his toes absentmindedly digging in the sand while he
\nthought, would ask Nate a question without turning around. <\/p>\n

“Nate, do accidents count?” <\/p>\n

Nate lifted his head a little bit. “What do you mean, Jack?” <\/p>\n

Jack tilted his head back like he was looking at the stars. “You know,
\naccidents. If I accidentally fall on the lever, without meaning to, does
\nthat still wipe out humanity?” <\/p>\n

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it does, Jack. I’d suggest you be careful about that
\nif you start feeling wobbly,” said Nate with some amusement. <\/p>\n

A little later – “Does it have to be me that pulls the lever?” asked Jack. <\/p>\n

“That’s the rule, Jack. Nobody else can pull it,” answered Nate. <\/p>\n

“No,” Jack shook his head, “I meant does it have to be my hand? Could I pull
\nthe lever with a rope tied around it? Or push it with a stick? Or throw a
\nrock?” <\/p>\n

“Yes, those should work,” replied Nate. “Though I’m not sure how complicated
\nyou could get. Samuel thought about trying to build some kind of remote
\ncontrol for it once, but gave it up. Everything he’d build would be gone by
\nthe next sunrise, if it was touching the stone, or over it. I told him that
\nin the past others that had been bound had tried to bury the lever so they
\nwouldn’t be tempted to pull it, but every time the stones or sand or
\nwhatever had disappeared.” <\/p>\n

“Wow,” said Jack, “Cool.” Jack leaned back until only his elbows kept him
\noff of the stone and looked up into the sky. <\/p>\n

“Nate, how long did Samuel live? One of his wishes was for health too,
\nright?” asked Jack. <\/p>\n

“Yes,” replied Nate, “it was. He lived 167 years, Jack.” <\/p>\n

“Wow, 167 years. That’s almost 140 more years I’ll live if I live as long.
\nDo you know what he died of, Nate?” <\/p>\n

“He died of getting tired of living, Jack,” Nate said, sounding somewhat
\nsad. <\/p>\n

Jack turned his head to look at Nate in the starlight. <\/p>\n

Nate looked back. “Samuel knew he wasn’t going to be able to stay in
\nsociety. He figured that they’d eventually see him still alive and start
\nquestioning it, so he decided that he’d have to disappear after a while. He
\nfaked his death once, but changed his mind – he decided it was too early and
\nhe could stay for a little longer. He wasn’t very fond of mankind, but he
\nliked the attention. Most of the time, anyway. <\/p>\n

“His daughter and then his wife dying almost did him in though. He didn’t
\nstay in society much longer after that. He eventually came out here to spend
\ntime talking to me and thinking about pulling the lever. A few months ago he
\ntold me he’d had enough. It was his time.” <\/p>\n

“And then he just died?” asked Jack. <\/p>\n

Nate shook his head a little. “He made his forth request, Jack. There’s only
\none thing you can ask for the fourth request. The last bite. <\/p>\n

After a bit Nate continued, “He told me that he was tired, that it was his
\ntime. He reassured me that someone new would show up soon, like they always
\nhad. <\/p>\n

After another pause, Nate finished, “Samuel’s body disappeared off the stone
\nwith the sunrise.” <\/p>\n

Jack lay back down and looked at the sky, leaving Nate alone with his
\nmemories. It was a long time until Jack’s breathing evened out into sleep. <\/p>\n

Jack woke with the sunrise the next morning. He was a little chilled with
\nthe morning desert air, but overall was feeling pretty good. Well, except
\nthat his stomach was grumbling and he wasn’t willing to eat raw desert rat. <\/p>\n

So, after getting directions to town from Nate, making sure he knew how to
\nget back, and reassuring Nate that he’d be back soon, Jack started the long
\nwalk back to town. With his new health and Nate’s good directions, he made
\nit back easily. <\/p>\n

Jack caught a bus back to the city, and showed up for work the next day,
\nlittle worse for the wear and with a story about getting lost in the desert
\nand walking back out. Within a couple of days Jack had talked a friend with
\na tow truck into going back out into the desert with him to fetch the SUV.
\nThey found it after a couple of hours of searching and towed it back without
\nincident. Jack was careful not to even look in the direction of Nate’s
\nlever, though their path back didn’t come within sight of it. <\/p>\n

Before the next weekend, Jack had gone to a couple of stores, including a
\nbook store, and had gotten his SUV back from the mechanic, with a warning to
\navoid any more joyriding in the desert. On Saturday, Jack headed back to see
\nNate. <\/p>\n

Jack parked a little way out of the small town near Nate, loaded up his new
\nbackpack with camping gear and the things he was bringing for Nate, and then
\nstarted walking. He figured that walking would leave the least trail, and he
\nknew that while not many people camped in the desert, it wasn’t unheard of,
\nand shouldn’t really raise suspicions. <\/p>\n

Jack had brought more books for Nate – recent books, magazines, newspapers.
\nSome things that would catch Nate up with what was happening in the world,
\nothers that were just good books to read. He spent the weekend with Nate,
\nand then headed out again, telling Nate that he’d be back again soon, but
\nthat he had things to do first. <\/p>\n

Over four months later Jack was back to see Nate again. This time he brought
\na laptop with him – a specially modified laptop. It had a solar recharger,
\nspecial filters and seals to keep out the sand, a satellite link-up, and a
\nspecial keyboard and joystick that Jack hoped that a fifteen-foot
\nrattlesnake would be able to use. And, it had been hacked to not give out
\nits location to the satellite. <\/p>\n

After that Jack could e-mail Nate to keep in touch, but still visited him
\nfairly regularly – at least once or twice a year. <\/p>\n

After the first year, Jack quit his job. For some reason, with the wisdom he
\n‘d been given, and the knowledge that he could live for over 150 years,
\nworking in a nine to five job for someone else didn’t seem that worthwhile
\nany more. Jack went back to school. <\/p>\n

Eventually, Jack started writing. Perhaps because of the wisdom, or perhaps
\nbecause of his new perspective, he wrote well. People liked what he wrote,
\nand he became well known for it. After a time, Jack bought an RV and started
\ntraveling around the country for book signings and readings. <\/p>\n

But, he still remembered to drop by and visit Nate occasionally. <\/p>\n

On one of the visits Nate seemed quieter than usual. Not that Nate had been
\na fountain of joy lately. Jack’s best guess was that Nate was still missing
\nSamuel, and though Jack had tried, he still hadn’t been able to replace
\nSamuel in Nate’s eyes. Nate had been getting quieter each visit. But on this
\nvisit Nate didn’t even speak when Jack walked up to the lever. He nodded at
\nJack, and then went back to staring into the desert. Jack, respecting Nate’s
\nsilence, sat down and waited. <\/p>\n

After a few minutes, Nate spoke. “Jack, I have someone to introduce you to.” <\/p>\n

Jack looked surprised. “Someone to introduce me to?” Jack looked around, and
\nthen looked carefully back at Nate. “This something to do with the Big Guy? <\/p>\n

“No, no,” replied Nate. “This is more personal. I want you to meet my son.”
\nNate looked over at the nearest sand dune. “Sammy!” <\/p>\n

Jack watched as a four foot long desert rattlesnake crawled from behind the
\ndune and up to the stone base of the lever. <\/p>\n

“Yo, Jack,” said the new, much smaller snake. <\/p>\n

“Yo, Sammy” replied Jack. Jack looked at Nate. “Named after Samuel, I
\nassume?” <\/p>\n

Nate nodded. “Jack, I’ve got a favor to ask you. Could you show Sammy around
\nfor me?” Nate unwrapped himself from the lever and slithered over to the
\nedge of the stone and looked across the sands. “When Samuel first told me
\nabout the world, and brought me books and pictures, I wished that I could go
\nsee it. I wanted to see the great forests, the canyons, the cities, even the
\nother deserts, to see if they felt and smelled the same. I want my son to
\nhave that chance – to see the world. Before he becomes bound here like I
\nhave been. <\/p>\n

“He’s seen it in pictures, over the computer that you brought me. But I hear
\nthat it’s not the same. That being there is different. I want him to have
\nthat. Think you can do that for me, Jack?” <\/p>\n

Jack nodded. This was obviously very important to Nate, so Jack didn’t even
\njoke about taking a talking rattlesnake out to see the world. “Yeah, I can
\ndo that for you, Nate. Is that all you need?” Jack could sense that was
\nsomething more. <\/p>\n

Nate looked at Sammy. Sammy looked back at Nate for a second and then said,
\n“Oh, yeah. Ummm, I’ve gotta go pack. Back in a little bit Jack. Nice to meet
\nya!” Sammy slithered back over the dune and out of sight. <\/p>\n

Nate watched Sammy disappear and then looked back at Jack. “Jack, this is my
\nfirst son. My first offspring through all the years. You don’t even want to
\nknow what it took for me to find a mate.” Nate grinned to himself. “But
\nanyway, I had a son for a reason. I’m tired. I’m ready for it to be over. I
\nneeded a replacement.” <\/p>\n

Jack considered this for a minute. “So, you’re ready to come see the world,
\nand you wanted him to watch the lever while you were gone?” <\/p>\n

Nate shook his head. “No, Jack – you’re a better guesser than that. You’ve
\nalready figured out – I’m bound here – there’s only one way for me to leave
\nhere. And I’m ready. It’s my time to die.” <\/p>\n

Jack looked more closely at Nate. He could tell Nate had thought about
\nthis – probably for quite a while. Jack had trouble imagining what it would
\nbe like to be as old as Nate, but Jack could already tell that in another
\nhundred or two hundred years, he might be getting tired of life himself.
\nJack could understand Samuel’s decision, and now Nate’s. So, all Jack said
\nwas, “What do you want me to do?” <\/p>\n

Nate nodded. “Thanks, Jack. I only want two things. One – show Sammy around
\nthe world – let him get his fill of it, until he’s ready to come back here
\nand take over. Two – give me the fourth request. <\/p>\n

“I can’t just decide to die, not any more than you can. I won’t even die of
\nold age like you eventually will, even though it’ll be a long time from now.
\nI need to be killed. Once Sammy is back here, ready to take over, I’ll be
\nable to die. And I need you to kill me. <\/p>\n

“I’ve even thought about how. Poisons and other drugs won’t work on me. And
\nI’ve seen pictures of snakes that were shot – some of them live for days, so
\nthat’s out too. So, I want you to bring back a sword. <\/p>\n

Nate turned away to look back to the dune that Sammy had gone behind. “I’d
\nsay an axe, but that’s somewhat undignified – putting my head on the ground
\nor a chopping block like that. No, I like a sword. A time-honored way of
\ngoing out. A dignified way to die. And, most importantly, it should work,
\neven on me. <\/p>\n

“You willing to do that for me, Jack?” Nate turned back to look at Jack. <\/p>\n

“Yeah, Nate,” replied Jack solemnly, “I think I can handle that.” <\/p>\n

Nate nodded. “Good!” He turned back toward the dune and shouted, “Sammy!
\nJack’s about ready to leave!” Then quietly, “Thanks, Jack.” <\/p>\n

Jack didn’t have anything to say to that, so he waited for Sammy to make it
\nback to the lever, nodded to him, nodded a final time to Nate, and then
\nheaded into the desert with Sammy following.
\nOver the next several years Sammy and Jack kept in touch with Nate through
\ne-mail as they went about their adventures. They made a goal of visiting
\nevery country in the world, and did a respectable job of it. Sammy had a
\nnatural gift for languages, as Jack expected he would, and even ended up
\nacting as a translator for Jack in a few of the countries. Jack managed to
\nkeep the talking rattlesnake hidden, even so, and by the time they were
\nnearing the end of their tour of countries, Sammy had only been spotted a
\nfew times. While there were several people that had seen enough to startle
\nthem greatly, nobody had enough evidence to prove anything, and while a few
\nwild rumors and storied followed Jack and Sammy around, nothing ever hit the
\nnewspapers or the public in general. <\/p>\n

When they finished the tour of countries, Jack suggested that they try some
\nundersea diving. They did. And spelunking. They did that too. Sammy finally
\ndrew the line at visiting Antarctica. He’d come to realize that Jack was
\nstalling. After talking to his Dad about it over e-mail, he figured out that
\nJack probably didn’t want to have to kill Nate. Nate told Sammy that humans
\ncould be squeamish about killing friends and acquaintances. <\/p>\n

So, Sammy eventually put his tail down (as he didn’t have a foot) and told
\nJack that it was time – he was ready to go back and take up his duties from
\nhis dad. Jack, delayed it a little more by insisting that they go back to
\nJapan and buy an appropriate sword. He even stretched it a little more by
\ngetting lessons in how to use the sword. But, eventually, he’d learned as
\nmuch as he was likely to without dedicating his life to it, and was
\ndefinitely competent enough to take the head off of a snake. It was time to
\nhead back and see Nate. <\/p>\n

When they got back to the US, Jack got the old RV out of storage where he
\nand Sammy had left it after their tour of the fifty states, he loaded up
\nSammy and the sword, and they headed for the desert. <\/p>\n

When they got to the small town that Jack had been trying to find those
\nyears ago when he’d met Nate, Jack was in a funk. He didn’t really feel like
\nwalking all of the way out there. Not only that, but he’d forgotten to
\nfigure the travel time correctly, and it was late afternoon. They’d either
\nhave to spend the night in town and walk out tomorrow, or walk in the dark. <\/p>\n

As Jack was afraid that if he waited one more night he might lose his
\nresolve, he decided that he’d go ahead and drive the RV out there. It was
\nonly going to be this once, and Jack would go back and cover the tracks
\nafterward. They ought to be able to make it out there by nightfall if they
\ndrove, and then they could get it over tonight. <\/p>\n

Jack told Sammy to e-mail Nate that they were coming as he drove out of
\nsight of the town on the road. They then pulled off the road and headed out
\ninto the desert. <\/p>\n

Everything went well, until they got to the sand dunes. Jack had been
\nnursing the RV along the whole time, over the rocks, through the creek beds,
\nrevving the engine the few times they almost got stuck. When they came to
\nthe dunes, Jack didn’t really think about it, he just downshifted and headed
\nup the first one. By the third dune, Jack started to regret that he’d
\ndecided to try driving on the sand. The RV was fishtailling and losing
\ntraction. Jack was having to work it up each dune slowly and was trying to
\nkeep from losing control each time they came over the top and slid down the
\nother side. Sammy had come up to sit in the passenger seat, coiled up and
\nlaughing at Jack’s driving. <\/p>\n

As they came over the top of the fourth dune, the biggest one yet, Jack saw
\nthat this was the final dune – the stone, the lever, and somewhere Nate,
\nwaited below. Jack put on the brakes, but he’d gone a little too far. The RV
\nstarted slipping down the other side. <\/p>\n

Jack tried turning the wheel, but he didn’t have enough traction. He pumped
\nthe brakes – no response. They started sliding down the hill, faster and
\nfaster. <\/p>\n

Jack felt a shock go through him as he suddenly realized that they were
\nheading for the lever. He looked down – the RV was directly on course for
\nit. If Jack didn’t do something, the RV would hit it. He was about to end
\nhumanity. <\/p>\n

Jack steered more frantically, trying to get traction. It still wasn’t
\nworking. The dune was too steep, and the sand too loose. In a split second,
\nJack realized that his only chance would be once he hit the stone around the
\nlever – he should have traction on the stone for just a second before he hit
\nthe lever – he wouldn’t have time to stop, but he should be able to steer
\naway. <\/p>\n

Jack took a better grip on the steering wheel and tried to turn the RV a
\nlittle bit – every little bit would help. He’d have to time his turn just
\nright. <\/p>\n

The RV got to the bottom of the dune, sliding at an amazing speed in the
\nsand. Just before they reached the stone Jack looked across it to check that
\nthey were still heading for the lever. They were. But Jack noticed something
\nelse that he hadn’t seen from the top of the dune. Nate wasn’t wrapped
\naround the lever. He was off to the side of the lever, but still on the
\nstone, waiting for them. The problem was, he was waiting on the same side of
\nthe lever that Jack had picked to steer towards to avoid the lever. The RV
\nwas already starting to drift that way a little in its mad rush across the
\nsand and there was no way that Jack was going to be able to go around the
\nlever to the other side. <\/p>\n

Jack had an instant of realization. He was either going to have to hit the
\nlever, or run over Nate. He glanced over at Sammy and saw that Sammy
\nrealized the same thing. <\/p>\n

Jack took a firmer grip on the steering wheel as the RV ran up on the stone.
\nShouting to Sammy as he pulled the steering wheel, “BETTER NATE THAN LEVER!”, he ran over the snake. <\/p>\n

THE END. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

This story was posted over on AR15.com<\/a> and I really enjoyed it. I’ve found it on a couple of sites so I’m guessing it’s in the public domain, but if you know the author, please let me know so I can give proper credit.<\/p>\n

So, there’s a man crawling through the desert. <\/p>\n

He’d decided to try his SUV in a little bit of cross-country travel, had
\ngreat fun zooming over the badlands and through the sand, got lost, hit a
\nbig rock, and then he couldn’t get it started again. There were no cell
\nphone towers anywhere near, so his cell phone was useless. He had no family,
\nhis parents had died a few years before in an auto accident, and his few
\nfriends had no idea he was out here. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[5],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/addlepated.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1038"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/addlepated.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/addlepated.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/addlepated.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/addlepated.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1038"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/addlepated.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1038\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/addlepated.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1038"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/addlepated.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1038"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/addlepated.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1038"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}