Whom Could We Tell? Who Would Believe Us?

By Harry Harris

Several youngsters returning home from school stumble across a man lying face down on the country road that appears lifeless. Not knowing what to do with him they seek help from a farmer they know who is working in the fields nearby. The farmer, Frank Bosworth, goes to attend to the man anxious to help him if he can. However, when he’s alongside the inert figure and gets a good look at him he becomes stupefied for he immediately identifies him as the person he had run over and killed in an automobile accident a year ago.

In the story that follows, strange incidents such as that one, has the people in York, North Dakota believing they’ve been inundated by strangers from another planet, and it’s only at the end of a long series of remarkable events that they ultimately ‘see’, what they had only surmised, materialize and become real.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Harry Harris
• Release date: Mar 29, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311039248

Book preview

WHOM COULD WE TELL?

WHO WOULD BELIEVE US?

An intriguing story about a form of ‘life’

that exists on some of the other planets in our universe.

By Harry Harris

Copyright 2015 Harry Harris

Published by HERCULES-APOLLO MYSTERIES

at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

#prologue

#Chapter1

#Chapter2

#Chapter3

#Chapter4

#Chapter5

#Chapter6

#Chapter7

#AboutAuthor

#Otherbooks

Prologue

Since this story takes place in North Dakota, its locale is of great importance if this tale is worthy of acceptance. Therefore, the author feels he would be remiss if he didn't reacquaint you with some pertinent facts about that state:

North Dakota is located in the north-central part of the United States; it’s bordered by Minnesota on the East; South Dakota in the South; Montana on the West, and the Canadian provinces of Manitoba and Saskatchewan on the North. With that location in mind, it’s important to remember that there are only 640,000 people living in that entire prodigious state, and that there are fewer than 100,000 inhabitants residing in its largest city, Fargo.

To give you an idea of the significance of that information, please keep in mind that North Dakota, which occupies 68,975 square miles of land in our country, is thirteen times larger than Connecticut, which only has 4,845 square miles of land, yet that diminutive state has more than five times as many residents. That should tell you how sparsely populated North Dakota is. In fact, as they say in that state and not necessarily in jest: You have to walk a hundred miles if you want to have a word with your next door neighbor.

That fact is important because if North Dakota wasn’t as sparsely populated as it is, the unearthly circumstances that occurred there could not have taken place,

Harry Harris

Chapter One

It was one o'clock in the morning and Nora Rathers was at the First Aid Station in York, North Dakota attending to Louis Durgin and Henry Morgan, the two patients in her charge. The men had been in an accident. Their misfortune occurred during the middle of the night when they failed to make a sharp turn in the road and crashed their car into a tree; both of them sustaining several broken bones and severe internal injuries. They were found the following morning by a farmer who summoned help and had them brought to the First Aid Station.

The First Aid Station, simply called 'The Center' by the people in York and its surrounding area, is a small red brick building with two rooms; the larger one serving as an office as well as the clinic. It’s furnished with a desk; chair; couch; an examining table; two cabinets (one for medical records and one for supplies); a sink with hot and cold running water; a small refrigerator, and an x-ray machine. The smaller room is sparsely appointed with two single beds with a curtain between them for privacy, and a small closet in one comer and a lavatory in the other.

The words 'First Aid Station' painted in bright red letters on a stark white door, identifies the place as a haven for anyone in need of medical attention. Three young women are employed to look after the patients at the Center: Nora Rathers, Janice Collins, and Ruth Avery. They each work an eight hour shift, seven days a week. Unpaid volunteers take care of the patients whenever any one of those three women is ill or needs a day off to attend to some personal matter.

Janice Collins works the first shift, eight in the morning until four in the afternoon; Ruth Avery from four until midnight; and Nora Rathers from twelve till eight in the morning. The tour of duty for these women isn't difficult for most of the time there aren't any patients there for them to look after, which gives them plenty of free time to do with as they please.

The women, however, are not certified nurses; all they know about tending to the sick is what they learned watching the doctor: They've become adept in dressing wounds, giving injections, operating the

x-ray machine, and making certain that patients who are there take the prescribed medicines ordered by Dr. Mandrake who’s in charge of the Center.

The work they do isn't significant; all that's required of them is to keep the patients comfortable until they can be seen by the doctor. Since no one else in that small community of York was available or willing to work such a schedule, the members of the town council, which governs the village, were delighted that they were able to persuade the three young women to work there.

Although the women were not trained to work as nurses, Dr. John Mandrake was certainly qualified as a doctor: He graduated at the top of his class at the prestigious School of Medicine at Harvard University with an M.D., a Doctor of Medicine, and a M.S., a Master of Science. It was rumored that he could have worked for any of the great hospitals in the country but once he was certified and had a license to practice medicine he chose to return to where, he said, he could give aid and comfort to 'his' people, referring to the inhabitants of North Dakota where he was born. He was not only in charge of the First Aid Station but he had been instrumental in raising the money for its construction.

Within weeks of settling in the area, Dr. Mandrake became known as a beloved country doctor, one who would travel hundreds of miles to minister to the sick. He was highly respected for attending to the poor and rich alike without thinking of remuneration and he was known to have snatched patients from the brink of death with his consummate medical skills.

Be that as it may, it was a few minutes after midnight when Nora, who had just come on her shift, got a call from Dr. Mandrake. After asking how his two patients were and hearing they were well and resting comfortably, he informed her that he would be bringing another patient to the Center, and from what he could ascertain, a stranger to the area as well:

Earlier that day as several youngsters were returning home from school they stumbled across a man on the country road that was lying prone with his face to the ground apparently at death's door. Not knowing what to do about the man, the youngsters sought help from a farmer they knew who was working in a field nearby.

The farmer, Frank Bosworth, immediately went to see the man, anxious to help him if he could. When he was alongside the inert figure, however, and got a good look at him, he became stupefied, it were as if he had been hit on the head with a ton of bricks. One of the youngsters who noticed the farmer's reaction, said, What's wrong, Mr. Bosworth, you're as white as a ghost? And after a moment he added, Is he someone you know?

No, son, Frank Bosworth said solemnly, 'he's no one I know." Nevertheless, after a cursory examination he told the youngsters that the man was dead and that there was nothing he could do for him, and he left quickly saying that he had to go back to work before the light failed and got too dark for him to finish his plowing.

The youngsters were amazed at Frank Bosworth's hasty departure but they didn't say anything, they just stood around the motionless figure talking to one another trying to determine if the man had actually expired, as Mr. Bosworth had implied, and that if he had, what to do with him.

As the youngsters were discussing the sorry state of the inert figure, a woman who had been visiting a friend nearby and was driving back to her home, saw the man on the ground and the youngsters milling about him and stopped to see if she could be of any assistance. Unfortunately she was of no help whatsoever. After looking at the man for quite some time all she could ascertain was that he was a stranger.

He's a Johnny-come-lately, she said. He’s certainly not from around these parts. But whether he was dead or not, she couldn't determine. Shaking her head sadly, she said, It's a pity, he's such a handsome young man. If it weren't for that little scar on his forehead I'd say he was a dead ringer for Brad Pitt. Then feeling that there was nothing more she and the youngsters could do for the man, she called the sheriff on her cell phone and advised him of the situation.

Ten minutes later Sheriff Tom Helwig arrived at the scene and immediately examined the lifeless figure. He found that the young man had a pulse but that it was hardly discernable. He put his ear on the man's chest and listened intently for a heart beat but all he heard was a very faint whirring sound, but it was enough for him to determine that there was still some life in the man. He immediately called Dr. Mandrake informing him about the man. Unfortunately, the doctor was with a patient in Grace City, a hundred miles away, and wouldn't be there for several hours; however, he asked the sheriff to take the young man to the Center and to wait there for him; that he would join him as soon as he could.

That wasn't exactly what the sheriff wanted to hear for he knew that meant he would be waiting at the Center for hours. He thanked the woman and the youngsters for looking after the young man and for calling him to the scene, and then he told them to go home; that there was nothing more for them to do. However, when he noticed that some of the youngsters were reluctant to leave, he said, With news the way it travels in these parts you'll know soon enough who the stranger is and whether he survives or not. So go on home before your parents start worrying about you.

After everyone was gone and he was left alone with the inanimate man, he began to ask himself questions about him: Who was he? There was no doubt that he was a stranger in the area; the expensive, well-tailored black suit and beautiful fine-knitted black tie he was wearing made that obvious. Where did he come from? Why didn't he have any money, keys, or identification on him? What was he doing in York and how did he get here? Had someone been with him and left to go for help? If so, where is that person now? And the most important question that went through his mind about the man was, ‘What happened to him?’ There were no wounds or bruises on his body, and from what he could determine, no foul play...so what brought the poor devil at death's door? The thoughts were hanging heavy on his mind. He was certain, however, that he would have answers to some of those questions after the man had been examined by Dr. Mandrake.

Fearing that moving the young man would exacerbate his condition, the sheriff covered him with a blanket that he had in the trunk of his car for just such emergencies, and waited for the doctor.

Dr. Mandrake arrived several hours later and after greeting the sheriff with a quick nod, he turned his attention immediately to the young man, running his stethoscope over his chest and back, and carefully examining him for broken bones.

The man's alive all right, the doctor said. but just barely; thankfully nothing's broken. As he was injecting him with a sedative, he added, I can understand why you didn’t try to get him to the Center, but I won't be able to determine the nature of his ailment until we get him there and I examine him more thoroughly; however, this will assuage some of the pain he'll probably feel as we move him.

That may present a problem, the sheriff said. If I'm not mistaken both beds at the Center are occupied.

"Yes, but those two chaps will be leaving us in a day or two. Their company is arranging for an ambulance to take them back to their home town, Williston; to a conventional hospital there. They'll be able to get better treatment there than what we can offer them, plus being near their families will help them recuperate