Misconceptions

By Michael Mayo

Dave Schultz, a failing high school student, is threatened by three Hansen brothers from his school, who claim Dave got their sister Sherrie pregnant. Coincidentally, Dave's father Mark, a physician, witnesses an auto accident involving Sherrie. He does his best to rescue her, but she sustains a broken neck and remains comatose. When Mark visits the family in hospital, the father gives him a check for $10,000 for 'services rendered', which Mark agonizes over whether to accept or not. Mark also dreads the arrival of his older brother Elliot, an alcoholic with little means of support.
The Hansen brothers, mad about their sister, come round to the Schultz house, when Dave is alone, and beat him up. Luckily, Elliot comes back from his trip to the liquor store and intervenes. Even so Dave sustains injuries and needs emergency care in the local E.R.
Mark gets a No Contact order, but a week or so later the Hansen boys entice Dave to come and see Sherrie, who, they say, has woken up. Dave recruits his friend Lin, and Lin's Asian cousins plus Uncle Elliot, to come along for support. The Hansen boys realize they are outnumbered and Mark, on hearing they have broken the No Contact order, insists Elliot leave in the next few days. However, Dave, who finds Elliot fun, goes on a bike ride with him as a final outing the next day.
On the bike trail they meet Jeff, one of the Hansen brothers, and, during a confrontation, Dave pushes him into some blackberry bushes. Unluckily, the vines cover a deep ditch and the boy falls several feet landing head-first on a rock and dies. Because Dave has motive, opportunity and method, and there were no witnesses, he is persuaded by Elliot not to report it, and they throw the bike in the ditch as well, hoping it will appear Jeff had an accident on his own. Next day they return to the site to wipe off any fingerprints and support the lie they only went down the trail on the second day.
The Schultz family are questioned by the police when Jeff is declared missing. During this, Dave lies about breaking the No Contact order and Mark corrects him. Mark worries Elliot will also lie, so calls, and finding Elliot in his cups, drives down to Eugene that night to make sure his story is correct.
Nothing happens for a month until a dog finds the body and bike, and the Schultz family is again questioned. At this point, Mark decides it would be better to have Elliot stay again and pays his train fare. Meeting Elliot at the station, Mark notices his brother is jaundiced probably from excessive alcohol affecting his liver. However, his work-up shows the liver to be heavily involved with a pancreatic cancer.
Elliot, when questioned by the police, messes up on some of his evidence. Later, when the DNA evidence is back, Dave's fingerprint is found on Jeff's belt buckle, which Dave passes off as being from when he was attacked by the three brothers. More difficult for Elliot to explain is his print on Jeff's bike, which Elliot suggests might also date from the attack on Dave.
A few days later, their attorney calls to say Sherrie delivered a stillborn child, but the Hansen family still wants Dave's DNA to establish paternity. This comes back showing he is not the father.
That same day Elliot is arrested and spends the night in jail then out on bail. Elliot, after hearing about the prognosis from his cancer, considers not having treatment and confessing to the boy's death before he dies, so absolving Dave. However, during his confession before the judge in the hospice, he claims that he alone went down the trail on the first day, which puts Dave in the position of having lied for Elliot.
After further questioning, Dave's file is sent to the prosecutor who recommends he attend an accountability board. This decides on counseling and community service. Dave then realizes that, from being a loner, a loser and a poor liar he has matured and even got away with murder.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael Mayo
• Release date: May 15, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311223425

Michael Mayo

Michael Mayo is a world-renowned and respected medium and spiritual teacher. He brings a practical, grounded, and evidential style to his spiritual work. With his passion for teaching and helping others discover their own unique spiritual connection, he has taught and worked globally. Throughout his 16+ years of working with the Spirit World, he has demonstrated his ability to connect with departed loved ones in both public demonstrations and private sittings. He created his own online school, The Oakbridge Institute, where he teaches progressive mediumship development courses, weekly development circles, and workshops. He also has been featured on The Shift Network and countless podcasts. By bringing messages of love and hope from the Spirit world, his mission is to show that we, like love, are eternal.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Shit, Dave thought, what a wasted Sunday. It had rained all day, and with no money to go to a movie he had to watch a crappy one on HBO. Even his Vietnamese friend Lin couldn't make it over, and there was no one else he'd care to spend the day with, except Sherrie. With that thought he had a hard-on and felt a choking in his throat. No, he told himself, he wasn't about to cry, but couldn't stop tearing up with the thought of what might have been. That day last fall, when she'd come up to him in the gym and, even in front of her twin brother Jeff, had asked him to the Tolo. Dave thought he'd no chance of getting a girl like Sherrie and often wondered why she'd picked him. He soon found out she hated her brothers, even Jeff, her twin. Maybe, she chose him to annoy them. Dark haired and slim, with a serene face that creased up into a sunny smile when she laughed. That first night after the dance, when they'd gone all the way in the back of his car; except he'd come too quickly.

After that, they'd done it four or five times over the next few weeks; he'd held on longer for each one, both coming together with the last. Then nothing. Sherrie in school but wouldn't speak to him, and Jeff sneering at his every attempt to find out what was going on.

Finally, two months later, Jeff cornered him after school as he reached his car, grabbed him by the neck of his T-shirt and hissed, Fuck you, you worm. Sherrie's having your baby.

Dave remembered her saying, the first time they did it, she would take care of that, but he supposed that nothing worked perfectly. Since then, he guessed her recent absence from school meant she was going to get rid of it. Dave knew that her parents were big into religion, so he figured that her having a baby without being married would not look too good. Soon after that Jeff set up a meeting with he and Sherrie at a local mall. Right then, he could see she was starting to show, so had she decided to go through with it? Without giving him a chance to speak, she rattled off, what sounded like a prepared speech, and told him to get lost. Then walked off to join her three brothers, who stood guard a few yards away.

Now March already, and no news. If she was still pregnant, she'd have to be nearly six months. The Hansen brothers, Jeff and Mike, continued to torment him at school, leaving obscene drawings and writing insults on his locker. They also flattened his tires and messed up his car. Bill, the oldest, had graduated last year, but all Dave's junior year he'd bullied him whenever he got the chance, and this before he started going with Sherrie. God knows what he would do to him now? Every day he expected a text or a phone call. Maybe they'd corner him in or near the school and beat him up.

Sometimes he couldn't sleep at night with the sounds coming from the three acres the house sat on. He wished they lived in a city neighborhood or at least a suburb with people close enough to hear if you yelled.

All today he'd been alone. His mother said she had to reorganize her dress shop in the town for the new summer stuff. Only yesterday he'd heard his parents arguing about it. Dad had said it hadn't made any money for two years and they should quit it as agreed. He'd then accused her of closing for two hours every day at noon, so she and her partner could go to lunch together and so miss the best shopping time of day. Yesterday, she'd smelled strongly of alcohol; probably had several martinis. Dave hated it when his parents fought.

Dad had pushed off very early Saturday to go to one of his medical meetings someplace east of the mountains. It wasn't all work. They'd do something in the snow: skiing, snowshoeing or some such crap. He had to admit his dad was a jock, and he, Dave, had to be a disappointment to him in sports and physical fitness. But he liked doing his own thing. If his parents were here, he'd ignore them. He just wanted to have them around with the threat of the Hansens out there.

At last he heard a car coming up the drive making that scraping noise as something underneath hit the ridge in the middle. It had been like that for two years. His dad should get someone to fix it––make it hardtop. There had to be enough money in the bank account of a physician who worked in a major city hospital for that?

Hi Dave. You okay? his mother called.

He finished his last swig of beer, crushed the can under his foot and pushed it under the bottom of his mattress. He'd put it in the recycling the next time he was alone.

You there? she asked again.

Dave realized he hadn't replied, Yeah, I'm okay.

Has your father called? Said he'd be home by now. We should eat. What do you want?

Dave had eaten some hot dogs and kettle chips. I ate earlier. I'm fine thanks.

Tired of watching the TV and the computer screen he picked up his book. An English story about teens going off in the summer to a remote house, telling the parents they had gone to Greece to a place called Ecalpemos, which is 'someplace', spelled backwards. But, however hard he tried to concentrate he couldn't forget that the results of the state math test were due out early that week. He had answered all the questions but had to guess at a lot. What if he failed and couldn't graduate. His parents would be furious.

****

Chapter 2

Mark felt the car fishtail half way through the bend. His speed was low enough that by taking his foot off the brake pedal he could still make the curve and control the slide. A cautious man, he knew he’d been pushed into driving too fast, way outside his comfort zone. For the past five miles a guy—Mark had no doubt of the driver’s gender—had tailgated him in a monstrous SUV, blinding him with halogen lights, which might as well have been on full-beam the vehicle was so high on its chassis and so close behind. Snow had fallen all day and although he’d seen a plough coming up the mountain, about four inches seemed to have re-accumulated since it had passed down. This section of the highway had only two lanes, one in each direction, and there had been no passing areas for many miles. He’d thought of pulling over, but couldn't find any place to do it.

The lights from behind shifted to the driver’s side wing mirror and Mark realized the jerk was going to pass. What the hell. The road had briefly straightened but, ahead, he could see a bend with the slope of the road tilted towards the outside guardrail. Beyond that the ground fell away. As the vehicle drew level, he thought he got a glimpse of long hair with the driver hunched over the wheel, peering through the windshield. He slowed, allowing the SUV to pull ahead, but as it barreled into the bend no brake lights came on until way too late. As if watching a movie in slow motion, Mark saw the vehicle’s rear wheels sliding toward the guardrail. Perhaps it would bounce off the rail, spin around and come to a stop still on the pavement. At that moment, he recognized the unmistakable shape of a Hummer, which seemed to glide effortlessly through the barrier without pausing, and then disappear from view.

Oh my god, said Mark, wondering why would he say anything out loud when there was no one to hear. Only once in his life had he helped out in a roadside accident. It had been years ago in his intern year before he’d gone into surgical pathology. Back then, he’d been familiar with the theory and practice of CPR, which hadn’t, in fact, been required for the woman he’d found still sitting in the driver’s seat complaining of pain on breathing. Anyway, a few words of consolation seemed to help and doubtless were more effective when she knew he was a doctor. It occurred to him then, and no less at this moment, that as a physician, giving help to the sick or injured at the roadside, more would be required of him, than a member of the general public. But, without equipment to immobilize necks, backs, or limbs, or to stop bleeding, there seemed nothing constructive the average doc could do unless the airway had obstructed or the heart stopped. Mark used to carry a blood pressure machine, a stethoscope and some meds in the trunk of his car, but everything had soon deteriorated or gone out of date and he’d thrown them away long ago.

These thoughts raced through his head as he cautiously pulled over onto some shallower snow on the side of the highway that had been partially swept off by the Hummer as it carried with it the ten-foot section of guardrail. Should he call the emergency services right away, but what could he tell them until he'd seen what was down there? So, before getting out of the car, he hit the hazard light button, pulled out his flashlight and looked for his cell. He decided against pulling on his hard-shell jacket for the blowing snow. This was a potential disaster and he had delayed too long already. God knows what he was going to find and how he could possibly cope with it. In medical school, he’d soon learned that, although he knew the bookwork, taking care of real patients in emergency situations, something that seemed to turn on most of his fellow students, made him fearful and anxious. And so his choice of pathology.

Looking down the dark slope, he first saw a large granite boulder brilliantly lit by the Hummer’s headlights. The rear lights were indistinct and he realized the back was in a river under water. The only sound was the wind in the trees that he could see vaguely on the other side of the river. The slope down was steep but not impossible and he could see short huckleberry bushes brushed clean of snow as the SUV had slid down. He could grab onto these as he went down the embankment, but wondered if he shouldn’t call for the emergency services right away? The sooner they were here and this awful situation taken off his hands, so much the better for him and the victim. On the other hand, if the person in the car was dying of airway obstruction or drowning, he needed to be down there without delay. In his usual fashion, he wasted several seconds before deciding to go down first. Needing both hands to control his descent, he had to hold the flashlight in his mouth. This, of course, soon dropped into the bushes and more time then wasted finding it. At last the slope flattened and he was on the gravel of the riverbed; fortunately, spring had come late that year and snowmelt barely started otherwise the car would have been submerged and the occupant probably drowned. The Hummer lay on its passenger side and now he could see that only the driver’s side headlight was above the water line and illuminating the rock with its pale blue light.

It took him a moment to climb up the rock and work his way along the fender to the driver’s door, praying the door wasn’t locked as happens in many modern cars that only unlock when shifted into ‘Park’. He could see a shape in the driver’s seat and, shining his flashlight through the window, could just make out a young woman who could've been pregnant. She lay with her head angled awkwardly toward the passenger seat and he thought it probable she had broken her neck. Moving her single handedly without immobilizing it would be dangerous, but she couldn’t be left here with the water level rising inside the car, even if she was breathing on her own and had an adequate circulation.

He’d now crawled behind the driver’s door to try the handle. It gave the reassuring clunk of the latch releasing but wouldn’t budge. Damn, he said out loud as he noticed the big dent in the door and realized the car must have been rolling down the slope rather than sliding. He’d have to use the rear door. Damn it again as his legs got half submerged in the freezing water while working to get the door open. At last he got inside. He could no longer feel his legs with the water up to his waist, and he assumed his feet were standing on the inside of the other rear door.

Hello, can you hear me? Mark touched her shoulder and repeated the question, louder this time. No response. He felt for the carotid pulse and found it strong and regular, but he saw no respiratory movements in her chest. Even in the flashlight’s feeble beam she looked cyanosed, especially her lips, which made him wonder if she'd been wearing blue lipstick. With her neck at that bizarre angle and her failure to breathe, he assumed she had a high neck fracture, damage to the spinal cord and paralysis of the respiratory muscles, if nothing else. He had to get her out and start mouth to mouth, but how to immobilize her head and neck? Looking around in vain for a flat object, he remembered the adjustable headrests and the two metal prongs that went down for some distance into the seat back. As her head no longer lay on the driver’s side one, he eased that out and thought it would be long enough to tuck the prongs inside the back of her bra and then strap her head onto the cushion. What else could he do?

As he worked it down inside her clothes, he couldn’t help wondering whether he was doing her a favor or not. If she did have permanent injury to her cervical cord, she would likely be on some sort of assisted ventilation for the rest of her life. But no way could he tell that now and he knew no one would dare to stop even if she wasn’t pregnant. Once the headrest seemed secure and he had his belt behind it ready to strap across her forehead, he put one hand on either side of her head. He then pulled in line with her cervical spine with increasing force to straighten the neck vertebrae, hoping they would realign and take pressure off the spinal cord. At first he felt some resistance, but, as he pulled, the head moved easily onto the headrest and he secured the belt.

Before getting her out of the car, he gave her a few breaths mouth to mouth and was reassured to see her color improve. Luckily the sunroof opener worked, and he could slide her out and carry her across his shoulder fireman-style. Fortunately, he kept fit and maintained a muscular 200 pounds but she, although light, tended to roll off his shoulder because of her swollen belly. By the time he laid her on the gravel of the riverbed, her color had deteriorated but soon pinked up with half a dozen breaths. Now he could call 911.

He’d never before had to make this call but had often read of problems with the dispatchers. This first time for him was no exception. She asked him to spell his last name, which was Schultz, three times even though he told her he was giving mouth-to-mouth and hardly likely to leave the scene before the police arrived. Luckily, he knew the road well and could pinpoint the position of the accident a half-mile west of an isolated cabin that, for some reason, sold custom knives. After he’d finished with the call, Mark got into a rhythm in his artificial respirations, about 20 per minute, which kept her color good. He had to push the lower jaw forward