The Healthy Mechanic: Zen of Wellness and Longevity

By Dr. Ed Chicoine and Tim Scapillato

What do a very special auto mechanic and his wife know about health and wellness? How does a young workaholic take their message from a small village in the Gatineau Hills of western Quebec and spread it throughout the world, causing a paradigm shift in the way that people view health care? What are the simple steps that you can take right now to create a life full of health and happiness?

Find the answers in The Healthy Mechanic, a fictional story with a very real and powerful message. Follow Ben Dayton on a journey of discovery that will change not only his own life, but the lives of millions of others around the world as he learns and implements the secrets to wellness and longevity from Daniel and Elizabeth Webster.

• Language: English
• Publisher: eBookIt.com
• Release date: Apr 26, 2016
• ISBN: 9781456612429

Book preview

2012

Chapter 1: Introduction

At 98, Benjamin Dayton shows no signs of fatigue. Now more than three decades past the age at which most people of his generation would have retired to enjoy their golden years, Ben continues to travel the world at a pace that would challenge the stamina of someone half his age. Tall and slim, he carries himself with nearly perfect posture. Only his full head of white hair suggests that this is an elderly person but, as he likes to point out, at least it’s all still there. His mind is as quick and sharp as that of a young man—he can still take to the stage and speak for a couple of hours without notes. Of course, this is easy to do when the message comes straight from the heart: revealing the 11 secrets of total wellness had become his enduring passion more than 50 years ago.

Ben stands on his hotel room balcony and watches the retractable roof of the Great Lakes Multi-Dome slowly yawn open. A damp breeze drifting in from the lake brings little relief from the heat on this hot August afternoon. The cavernous concrete dome across the street will be filled to the roof this evening when a crowd of almost 100,000 is expected to listen to Ben deliver another of his inspirational and immensely popular presentations. Large audiences energize him and tonight’s crowd will be the biggest he has ever addressed. He can already feel the adrenaline beginning to race throughout his body. He paces nervously, breathes deeply and tries to relax.

On stage, Ben needs neither notes nor props. He is the living proof of his simple but powerful message. Millions around the world have heard him speak of the crucial interplay among body, mind, emotions and soul. Nourish only one of them at the expense of the others and true wellness will never be achieved. But nourish all of them to the fullest and optimum health and wellness—and a long and healthy life—are within the reach of anyone. That was it. That had become his mantra. The 11 secrets were the user manual on how to provide the nourishment.

The formula for a long and healthy life is neither complicated nor mysterious. It involves no magical elixirs. Ben isn’t a doctor or a scientist. In the early years, in fact, he was often compared to the proverbial snake-oil salesman. But nothing of which he speaks to his audiences is really secret at all. Since few people seemed to have incorporated these principles and practices into their lifestyles, however, it’s as though a light has been switched on when they first hear them. By successfully urging his listeners to adopt a lifestyle based on the 11 principles of wellness, Ben has been instrumental in initiating a paradigm shift in the approach to health and wellness in societies around the world.

Ben watches a flock of seagulls circle a trash-bin at the beach across from the hotel. He recalls the challenges he faced in the early years of his campaign at a time when people had come to expect a quick fix for their health problems. Swallowing a pill was easy—it was the preferred approach to correcting the ills that resulted from a lifetime of neglect, inactivity, poor diet and not connecting to the emotional and spiritual aspects of their lives. Ben challenged this approach head-on by teaching that common contemporary diseases could be prevented if people simply adopted healthy lifestyles and tapped into the healing power within the human body.

This was a tough sell at a time when technology and pharmacology were perceived as the answers to all known medical problems. Because disease and sickness were thought to originate externally, it seemed logical to assume that the solutions should also come from outside the body. Ben’s challenge was to turn this thinking around and help people to realize that both sickness and wellness come from within. In the early years, he considered it a successful evening if he were able to draw a crowd of a dozen people to listen to his message.

Now, standing on the balcony of his Toronto hotel room, he is about to address his largest audience ever. One hundred thousand people are expected to pack the Multi-Dome to pay tribute to The Messenger of Health on the 50th anniversary of his campaign to make the world a better place in which to live. There has been the usual media speculation that this will be Ben’s last major event, but this is nothing new. Conventional thinking about health and wellness may have changed, but there were still those who believed that a 98-year-old man should start thinking seriously about retirement. He smiles. There is still work to be done, he realizes.

A knock at the door startles Ben. He’s not expecting visitors and has left instructions at the front desk that he is not to be disturbed during the afternoon.

Mister Dayton? yells the voice from the other side of the door. Benjamin Dayton? There’s a box for you.

What—a box? Who’s there? he asks through the closed door.

It’s a trunk, comes the reply. The packing slip says it’s from a Daniel Webster. I need your signature.

Ben is stunned. He freezes in his tracks as he considers what he has just heard. How could there be a delivery from Daniel, here, on this day? This has to be some kind of practical joke.

Mr. Dayton? Are you there? asks the voice.

Ben closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and then exhales slowly. He has an image in his mind of Daniel and Elizabeth Webster. Over the past five decades they have given him as much guidance, strength and inspiration as they had during the short time that he had known them during the last years of their lives in Wakefield. As far as Ben was concerned, they were dead, although this fact was never ascertained. They had simply disappeared without a trace 50 years ago. But even if they were alive then, surely they’d be dead by now. If not, Daniel would be 142 years old, and his wife, Elizabeth, would be 137. Even they couldn’t have lived this long, he thinks.

Can you sign for this, sir? asks the voice again. I have other deliveries that I have to make this afternoon.

Ben turns the handle, slowly swings the door open, and stares at the trunk sitting in his doorway. This can’t be possible, he exclaims softly. It can’t be.

Are you OK, sir? asks the delivery agent as Ben falls to his knees in front of the trunk.

Yes, yes, I’m fine, he replies. Without lifting his head, he reaches for the shipping invoice, scrawls his signature hastily, then hands it back and begins to drag the trunk into the room.

Let me help, sir, offers the agent.

That’s all right, replies Ben. Don’t worry about me. And thanks for bringing this. He pulls a roll of American bills from his pocket. I hope you don’t mind American money, he says apologetically. I just returned from New Orleans and haven’t had time to change my money yet. Peeling off a couple of bills, he hands the agent the largest tip he has ever received.

Thank you, sir. That’s very generous, says the grateful agent. Good luck tonight, Mr. Dayton. I’ll be there, you know. My seat is way up in the nose-bleed section, though, so don’t look for me in the crowd, he laughs. Really nice meeting you, sir.

Ben extends his arm and the two shake hands. Ben looks him straight in the eye. Take care of yourself, young man, he advises. I hope you enjoy the presentation tonight. Good bye, now. He turns quickly and continues to drag the trunk into the room. The agent watches, then closes the door as he turns and leaves.

The last time Ben had seen this trunk he was 47 years old and Daniel Webster was still fixing automobile engines at his home in Wakefield. How has it found its way to this hotel room after all these years and why now? Who hired the agent to deliver it? He leaps from the edge of the bed, opens the door quickly and scans the empty corridor. He should have questioned the young man, but the shock of hearing Daniel’s name and seeing the trunk had caught him off-guard. He regrets this mental lapse. Maybe they’ll know downstairs, he hopes as he reaches for the phone.

This is Ben Dayton in 463, he explains. Can you tell me the name of the delivery service that dropped off the trunk here a few minutes ago?

There haven’t been any deliveries to any guests this afternoon, Mr. Dayton, replies the desk clerk. All deliveries must come to the front desk for inspection. If there had been a delivery to your room, we’d have a record of it.

You didn’t see a young man in a blue uniform, just five minutes ago, delivering a large wooden trunk on a push cart? he asks in disbelief.

No, sir. Someone would have noticed that. Besides, no one but guests can access the rooms. That’s why you have the security pass. Delivery agents must report to the front desk. Maybe you’d better not open it, if you aren’t sure. I can send someone up from security, she offers.

No, no, that’s not necessary. I know what’s in the trunk. I just wanted to know who delivered it. I wanted to ask him a few questions. I’m sorry to have bothered you.

He hangs up the phone, and then sits down again on the edge of the bed, staring at the trunk.

Well, Daniel, he whispers, congratulations. You never cease to amaze me. Even fifty years after the fact.

He reaches for his attaché case, opens it, unzips a flap covering a small pocket and retrieves the skeleton key that he has been carrying with him for more than 50 years. He discovered it on the day he had last seen the Websters alive. He knew that it was the key to the trunk that held the results of their 25 years of research into the 11 secrets. Daniel had referred to the folders inside this trunk on countless occasions during their discussions on health and wellness. But as willing as they were to share their knowledge and pass it on to a new champion, they guarded the contents of the trunk religiously, keeping them under constant lock and key. Ben had always hoped—even assumed—that he would be given the opportunity to study these documents, so he didn’t force the issue. Biding his time turned out to be the wrong strategy, though. When the Websters disappeared the only thing they took with them was the trunk.

Besides the benefit of countless hours of discussion and debate around the 11 secrets, the only thing that the Websters had left with Ben was the old skeleton key that opened the trunk. At first, Ben thought it was some kind of cruel joke, but upon reflection realized that he had never known this unusual couple to do anything without a purpose. If they had chosen to leave the key with Ben, there must have been a reason for doing so.

For many years Ben simply treated it as a good luck icon, carrying it with him as he travelled around the globe. This tangible connection to Daniel and Elizabeth helped to boost his confidence in what he was attempting to do. It was now clear, however, that the key was more than just a good luck charm. The Websters knew exactly what they were doing when they left him that key all those years ago. The only thing that remained unclear was why the Websters had chosen this day to deliver the trunk. Ben wasn’t even going to try to figure out how they could have known the actual date and address of his hotel room when they made whatever arrangements were necessary to ensure that the trunk reached him five decades in the future. There were some things in life that simply couldn’t be explained, and the Webster magic was one of them. Better just to accept it and carry on.

He’s surprised by how smoothly the key turns inside a lock mechanism that hasn’t been used for five decades. But why should he be surprised, he wonders—it would have been maintained by Daniel, a master mechanic. He would have ensured that it was stored in ideal conditions to prevent deterioration of any kind. Fifty years earlier, the trunk looked old and weathered, but today it doesn’t look any older than it did then. It was as though it had stopped aging on the day that the Websters left this world behind.

As he opens the lid, he is overcome by an olfactory-induced flood of memories: the familiar smells of Daniel’s auto repair shop and the aroma of incense that drifted from the house into the garage through the walkway. He closes his eyes and sees Daniel bent over the engine of his Toyota; there’s Max sprawled on the couch sleeping like a baby; Vic Parsons sits on a wicker chair near the aquarium, while Elizabeth offers nutritious treats to her guests. There was magic in that trunk, after all, he realizes.

He is jolted back to the present when he opens his eyes and sees a white envelope lying on top of the neat stack of file folders. Addressed simply to The Messenger of Health, it’s clipped to a folder labelled Secret No. 12. He quickly thumbs through the rest of the folders and discovers that each is labelled sequentially from Secret No. 1 through Secret No. 12. Ben is astonished—for 50 years he has been teaching the world about the 11 secrets of wellness, as passed on to him by the Websters. It was the complete package: it offered a formula for a long and healthy life. What was missing? Why hadn’t they ever mentioned it to him? Perhaps they had left before they had finished passing on all of the secrets to their protégé. But they had never done anything by accident or left anything to chance. If there was a 12th secret, then he wasn’t meant to know about it until now. But why now?

He removes the folder, closes the trunk, then walks over to a comfortable chair in the corner of the room. He sits down, opens the envelope, and begins to read a letter that will fill in a very large gap in his life.

Chapter 2: Health Warning

Ben was a walking time bomb. When he walked into his doctor’s office at the age of 42, he was a prime candidate for a major heart attack, stroke, or any of a number of other debilitating middle-age diseases resulting from an adult lifestyle characterized by poor diet, physical inactivity, and way too much stress. He had been thinking of visiting his doctor for a physical examination, but hadn’t been able to fit it into his busy schedule. Even small warning signs alerting him to looming health problems had had no effect—Ben was always able to find an excuse to delay. He had been procrastinating on starting a weight-loss diet, on beginning an exercise program, on trying to spend more time with his family, and on starting to work less. Very soon, he kept telling himself, all of these good intentions would come to fruition.

Just how bad his condition had become was driven home to him forcefully when the elevator in his office building was temporarily out of order, and he decided to walk the two flights of stairs up to his next meeting. By the time he had finished climbing, his legs were burning, he was gasping for air, and his pulse was racing. He was uncomfortably aware that this was his first exercise of any kind in several weeks, maybe even months or years. It took almost an hour before he was able to breathe normally again and his legs stopped aching. This was a reality check that Ben was determined not to ignore.

On his way to work each day he often drove past men and women—many of them much older than he—running or cycling or power-walking. He used to brush them off as health nuts with too much spare time on their hands. Now he began to take a critical look at his own lifestyle—his workaholic habits, his rich restaurant meals (complete with drinks and dessert, all paid for by the company expense account), his complete lack of physical activity—and wondered who was the fanatic, and to what end. His wellness epiphany prompted him to pick up the phone and make an appointment to see his doctor. He wasn’t sure what he was going to find out, but he could guess, and the thought scared him. He knew then that his life was about to change in a big way.

Ben, once a high school athlete, was now easily 25 pounds overweight. Results of medical tests taken at his last doctor’s appointment revealed elevated cholesterol levels, high blood pressure, a high resting pulse rate, and a slow recovery rate after vigorous physical activity. In short, he was in much the same shape as more than half the population his age in North America—he may have been in good company, but it was small comfort to know that he wasn’t alone. As his doctor pointed out to him bluntly, he was another statistic waiting to happen. Unless he took steps to alter his lifestyle radically, it was only a matter of time until his lifestyle would alter him permanently.

Ben spent the next several days engaged in some serious soul-searching. On the one hand, he regretted letting his health decline for the sake of a career that really provided little satisfaction beyond a good salary. On the other hand, he felt fortunate that he had so far avoided any major health complications and had been offered an opportunity—perhaps a final one—to take control of his destiny. His family was still there for him, and that was the most important thing in the world. He was determined to make sure that he was there for them for a long time to come.

Ben had often heard about people going through a mid-life crisis, but dismissed the thought that it would ever happen to him. At this crossroads in his life, he now had to make a choice: do nothing and suffer the dangerous consequences, or take the opportunity to turn the situation into something positive. Without knowing how he was going to do it, Ben had already made the decision to turn his life around.

Making the decision to take action was the easy part. Ben had never been able to sit back and let others set the agenda. He had an innate ability to make the right choices on matters of critical importance. His decisions were always based on solid information, extensive research, and careful consideration. Ben was a born skeptic who instinctively looked at a situation from every possible perspective. He was a master at playing the devil’s advocate, but when he was confident that his position was solid, he didn’t hesitate to make the tough decisions. So far, his track record was unassailable.

Making a decision to change his life was less difficult than deciding how that change would take place. He had used his skills for many years in the corporate world to make sound business decisions. Now he had to turn those skills inward and make the most important decision of his life. The payoff this time would not be money—it was far more important than that. Ben was surprised to hear himself think that anything could be more important than earning another dollar, but he took it as a positive sign that his perspective was properly focused. He was back in familiar territory and confident that his skills and instincts would not let him down when he needed them most.

Ben left the doctor’s office concerned for his health and preoccupied with finding a way to turn his life around. The challenges facing him were huge, but motivation—or lack of it—would not be one of them. He decided to walk back to his office. This would give him an opportunity to think and to get some exercise.

I’m taking the first step toward a new life, Ben thought as he began his walk back to work.

He was suddenly jolted from his deep thought by a voice from behind.

Ben—Ben Dayton! Hey, I’m still waitin’, Dayton!

The voice was only vaguely familiar, but that line—I’m still waitin’, Dayton—was unmistakable. He hadn’t heard it since he left high school, but he would never forget it. As a stagehand during a play in Grade 10, it had been Ben’s job to lower the backdrop during a scene change. The transition had to be done in total darkness in less than 30 seconds. There was no time to hesitate or make a mistake. Ben had missed his cue and found himself caught out of position when the lights went out. When the lights came back up, Ben was still scrambling up to the catwalk above the stage from where he would lower the backdrop. All of the characters were in place on stage, unsure whether they should proceed or wait. The vice-principal, Vic Parsons, was directing traffic backstage. Parsons ran the stage production like he ran the school: he expected perfection and had little patience with anyone who made a mistake. From the catwalk, Ben looked down, caught Parsons’ eye, and froze in his tracks. In a voice loud enough for everyone in the auditorium to hear, he announced: I’m still waitin’, Dayton! Ben scrambled to lower the backdrop while some members of the audience laughed nervously, unsure whether this was part of the production, or a major gaffe. The rest of the play went off without a hitch, but Ben was never able to live down that moment of infamy. I’m still waitin’, Dayton! became everyone’s favourite expression when they saw Ben. Even though it had been over 20 years since he had heard anyone say it, the effect was electric: Ben stopped in his tracks, wheeled around, and found himself face to face with Vic Parsons.

Although Parsons had the respect of almost every student in his high school, Ben didn’t know anyone who actually liked him. This didn’t bother Parsons, though, since it was his job to enforce the rules of the school, which was probably easier to do if you were disliked but respected. A strict disciplinarian, Parsons was bigger than life in more ways than one: as an authority figure, he loomed large in the daily lives of his high school students, but physically, too, he was a large man. Behind his back the students may have referred to him as Parsnips, but no one wanted to confront him to his face. That’s why Ben instinctively reeled when he found himself just inches away from his old high school drill sergeant.

It was unmistakably Parsnips, but there was something different about the man who stood before him. First of all, he was smiling, something that Ben could not recall ever having seen him do in all of his years at school. Secondly, this man looked more vibrant, healthy, and quite a bit smaller than when he was running Confederation High School in Ottawa. There was no mistaking those eyes, though. Ben would never forget the power they held over him that night on the catwalk. They were as intense as he remembered, but they no longer instilled fear or apprehension. Still, Ben could have walked right past this man without recognizing him if he hadn’t uttered those four famous words. Ben had seen so many people (including himself) start to decline physically as they aged. Even in high school, Parsons was already an obese pack-a-day smoker who showed no concern for his health. Ben was surprised, first of all, that he was still alive, and, secondly, that he actually looked younger than when he had last seen him a quarter of a century ago.

You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Dayton, said Parsons.

Mr. Parsons, said Ben. You’re looking good. Ben realized that he had never actually had a conversation with this man, and wasn’t sure what to say.

Thanks. I feel like a million bucks. What a beautiful day. Hey, you don’t look too good, Dayton. Are you feeling OK?

Ben had the uneasy feeling that Parsons, who had to be 25 years his senior, was probably in better health than he. The old vice-principal certainly appeared more vibrant, upbeat and happy.

Me? Yeah, I’m all right. Just a bit under the weather. Are you still at Confederation? Ben asked, realizing that it was a dumb question.

Hell, no! I left there twelve years ago. Thirty years is long enough in one job. I wanted to make sure that I was able to enjoy at least a couple of years of retirement before the ‘big one’ hit.

The big one? asked Ben, wondering why Parsons would have worried about an earthquake.

Heart attack. I was lucky I even made it to retirement. I spent most of my life more concerned with my job—keeping guys like you in line—than about my own health. I smoked too much, ate too much, worked too hard, and didn’t exercise. I was a walking time bomb. I was looking at retirement at a relatively young age with a nice fat pension, but I was in such poor health that I wasn’t going to be able to enjoy any of it.

Well, I have to tell you, Mr. Parsons, you—

—call me Vic, he interrupted. But don’t call me ‘Parsnips’. I know you guys used to call me that behind my back, but I have to tell you, I hate parsnips, even though they really are quite good for you."

Sure. OK. Well, I was just going to say that you look remarkably healthy. When you said that I looked like I’d seen a ghost, you weren’t too far off the mark. I was expecting to see someone else when I heard your voice. I mean it’s you, but a new and improved you.

Well, I have to tell you, Dayton, you don’t look new and improved.

Some things hadn’t changed: Parsons never minced words. You might not like what he said, but you always knew that he said exactly what he was thinking.

I’ve been under a lot of stress, I guess, said Ben, fumbling and mincing his words. In truth, Ben was overwhelmed at the remarkable transformation of the man standing in front of him. More disturbing, though, was the realization that he was heading down the same slippery slope that Parsons had been on at that age. He had walked out of his doctor’s office fully aware that he was a prime candidate for the big one, as Parsons had called it, wondering what he would have to do to turn his life around. Now he was standing on the street talking to a man who might have some answers. Ben had never been a big believer in omens—he put those in the same category as horoscopes—but this was a sign that shouldn’t be ignored.

Can I buy you a coffee? asked Ben, gesturing towards a café on the other side of the street.

I don’t drink coffee anymore, Dayton. There was a time when I couldn’t get through a day at school without a dozen cups of coffee. I thought it was the only way to cope with the stress of dealing with you and all your friends. Turns out it was actually increasing the stress on my systems. No, you can’t buy me a coffee, Dayton, but I’ll take a cup of herbal tea.

OK. Let’s go, said Ben. He wondered what Max would say when he told him that he bought Parsnips a cup of herbal tea.

* * *

It was fate, Dayton, said Parsons as he sipped on his tea. Fate is what made my car break down just a block away from one of the most unusual auto mechanics in the world. People think Wakefield is nothing but a sleepy little retirement community, but it’s home to someone who could literally change the world, if he wanted to. Look what he did for me.

I presume that he fixed your car. But, most auto mechanics have a knack for that type of thing. How could that change the world? asked Ben, surprising himself with his thinly veiled sarcasm. Back in high school, that would likely have resulted in a detention.

Not that part. That’s nothing, really. I mean, he’s the best mechanic I’ve ever seen, but I’m talking about his wellness philosophy.

Excuse me? asked Ben. He wasn’t sure whether he should laugh at the thought of a small-town auto mechanic dispensing philosophical advice.

Wellness, Dayton. Good health. I’m not surprised that you aren’t familiar with the concept. I know we didn’t teach it to you guys in high school. I’m pretty sure it isn’t in the curriculum even today. But it’s the most important thing we could ever teach a youngster.

What does an auto mechanic know about health? I thought that’s why we had doctors. Why is this guy fixing cars? And what did he do for you—you mentioned that he was somehow responsible for your being in good health. What’s that all about? Ben stopped, realizing that he was firing questions at Parsons without letting him answer. If he hadn’t seen for himself the incredible transformation in this man, he would have gotten up and walked out of the café. He was willing at least to listen. For the price of a cup of tea, he might actually learn something that would help him deal with his own looming problems.

I could sit here and talk to you about this auto mechanic’s 11 secrets to wellness, and you’d probably just think that I was starting to go senile. Listen, I was a teacher for thirty years, and now I’m retired. I really don’t feel like teaching again—especially you, Dayton. You were a real challenge.

Ben smiled, remembering many of his encounters with Parsons. It was satisfying, in a way, to learn that the old VP considered him a challenge.

I think you’d get more out of it if you heard it straight from the horse’s—or, in this case, mechanic’s—mouth. He has a way of explaining it that makes it seem so logical and easy to understand. If you heard it second-hand from me, you probably wouldn’t listen. I don’t want you to feel like you’re back in high school getting a lecture from me, old Parsnips. You didn’t like to listen to me much then, anyway.

I wasn’t that bad, was I, Vic?

Well, let me put it this way: you weren’t the worst of the bunch. Why don’t you come with me on the weekend? It’s time for my monthly visit, and I’m sure Daniel would love to meet you. He’s probably getting tired of talking to me all the time.

Your monthly visit? Does your car break down that often? What are you driving—a Lada?

Very funny. Now I’m really starting to remember what it was like having you in my school. Actually, my car never breaks down. Why? Because Daniel maintains it on a regular basis. That way, no major problems can develop, and the minor ones can be averted. It’s called preventive maintenance. Ever hear of that, Dayton?

Sure, I’ve heard of it. Come to think, my car is due for an oil change. Can you book an appointment for me?

What do I look like—your secretary? asked Parsons.

Ben was taken aback, until Parsons started laughing.

Got you! he said. It’ll be fine. Daniel will be glad to look at your car. Any friend of mine is a friend of his. Let’s just pretend that you’re my friend. He laughed again, this time loud enough to draw stares from other patrons in the café.

Ben decided that it would be worth a visit to this philosophical mechanic, if only to see what kind of man could cause this kind of transformation in a man like old ‘Parsnips’. He took the directions, and agreed to meet at 10:00 the following Saturday in Wakefield, home of Webster’s Auto Repair.

Chapter 3: Websters’ World

Ben sat across the desk from Max Farley, his lifelong friend and business associate.

It was definitely old Parsnips, explained Ben. I’m not sure whose body he was in, but it was him. Forget everything that you remember about him, Max. People can change, and this guy has proven that in a big way.

Ben and Maxwell Farley had been close friends since the sixth grade. They spent five years together at Confederation High School under the supervision of one of the sternest vice-principals ever hired by the Ottawa school board. Parsons was a natural leader who commanded respect. He expected his students to put the maximum effort into every endeavour. The results spoke for themselves: the school was regarded as one of the finest in the province for academic and athletic excellence.

Ben’s scholastic accomplishments were the result of dogged determination and hard work, much of it inspired by VP Parsons. He learned that he would have to work twice as hard as more academically gifted students, but that didn’t bother him. The final result was all that mattered. But it was a different story when it came to physical activity—Ben was a naturally gifted athlete who excelled at every sport in which he participated. His academic excellence, top physical conditioning and athletic prowess made him one of the most popular students on campus.

Ben’s high profile on campus was in stark contrast to that of his best friend, Max Farley, a brilliant student who was more comfortable in the library than on the track. The extent of Max’s exercise consisted of strolling through the stacks in the library. His sharp intellect and dry wit were housed in a frail physique. Parsons had no complaints about Max’s academic achievements, but he felt that a student should be well-rounded, and continually urged him to join an extra-curricular activity.

When Max joined the drama club as a stagehand, Parsons considered it a coup; when Max pulled out at the last minute and convinced Ben to fill in for him, the vice-principal couldn’t contain his disappointment and anger. With only one rehearsal under his belt, Ben was thrown into the infamous scene change that earned him the tagline, I’m still waitin’, Dayton. Ben and Max moved up several notches in Parsons’ black book and held their positions for the remainder of their high school years.

Did he ask about me? Max wondered. Are you sure he knew it was you?

No, and yes, to answer both of your questions.

Ben, why the sudden interest in your health, your high school vice-principal and an auto mechanic from Wakefield? This sounds like the plot for a cheesy B-movie. Is there something you haven’t told me?

Max knew Ben well enough to know that there had to be more to this story. And Ben knew Max well enough to