Passage of Time: Bone Man

By Andre St. Jorre

When Arthur fell in the water his body twitched several times
against the wet wire, then total darkness. Arthur began to
visualize a long tunnel. It seemed to be an ancient passage way,
the walls were covered with forgotten languages. A face appeared; it
looked incredibly ancient. A voice seemed to enter and speak to Arthurs
psyche, It is not your time ye, for ye have another path to follow.
Arthur turned to speak to the apparition, but it had disappeared.
Arthurs body seemed to become hollow, similar to a long, black tunnel within
himself. He tried to scream, but he had no voice. From the far depths of his
being, a white, blinding ball of light slowly began to come into view. The
light came far below his feet to the height of his upper chest; at the same
time a grey hand, covered with caked and clotted blood, and reeking of
death, and disease grabbed Arthur. He was yanked toward the apparition,
several voices crying out at once.
Doctor, we missed you

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jun 19, 2014
• ISBN: 9781491869598

Andre St. Jorre

Andre St. Jorre is a survivor who once lived on the streets, in back allies, and in abandoned cars during cold New York winters. He earned bachelor’s degrees in psychology and development and training, as well as a master’s degree in health science. He currently lives in Florida, where he is pursuing a master’s in psychology.

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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue

in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

© 2014 Andre St. Jorre. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 06/13/2014

ISBN: 978-1-4918-6961-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-6960-4 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-6959-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014904133

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CONTENTS

Chapter 1.     Passage Of Time

Chapter 2.     Women And Stone Soup

Chapter 3.     Yellow Fever (The Great Fever)

Chapter 4.     Another Place, Another Time

Chapter 5.     Back To The Trenches

Chapter 6.     Civilians

Chapter 7.     Paris

Chapter 8.     Love And Desire

Chapter 9.     Promenade

Chapter 10.   Two Tired Lovers

Chapter 11.   Peace Rumors

Chapter 12.   Battle Of Britain

Chapter 13.   Bennie

Chapter 14.   Korea

Chapter 15.   Ward Rounds

Chapter 16.   Bug Out

Chapter 17.   Hyde Park

Epilog

To a friend, and mentor of long ago. Lt Col. H. Doty M.D., US Army Europe. To be, you must climb higher, Learn all you can learn. To those in the Military hospitals, of whom I saw so many years ago, and who wondered what happened to their world. We were so young.

To Bill Oliver, my British counterpart, one of Montgomery’s’ best who found great pubs in So ho

CHAPTER ONE

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PASSAGE OF TIME

I n the streets of a wintry London, the people were scurrying about to return to a warm fireplace, the wind was cool, and one could feel the dampness in their bones.

An old man slowly scuffled in unrelenting pain his hands and feet crippled by age, his breath labored, he measured his progress by steps, nothing else mattered, not pleasure, not food, nor a pretty girl. His deepest thought were his work at the University of London the terrible aches that was his constant companion, slowly towards Hyde Park, He had stopped at the Speaker’s Corner to listen a bit to the latest blathering of one who thought he had something to say. Alternate universes, was the subject today. The Corner at times filled up with the curious, the naysayers and hecklers.

The old man listened for a few moments, if only to forget the nagging pains that racked his body, he looked up at the sky, and decided it could only get worse. The rain began with a vengeance, his glasses had fogged over, he felt the water squish in his shoes, he pulled his Chesterfield close about him his homburg gave him little release from the unrelenting rain

He trudged on, he felt out of date, a dinosaur, his wife Katherine had died many years ago. He began to walk toward Marble Arch. Arthur had decided to drink the brandy, a Silver flask left by his great grandfather. He waited for the strong brandy to bite, and swallowed the remainder of his pain pills. Arthur entered the tunneled pathway to Marble Arch, he, in his depression, felt he had no family left, and that he was no longer of use to the university. It was time to go. Then he would feel pain no more, oblivion. Arthur began to reel and stumble, in doing so he fell face down the steps into a pool of water For the rain that had begun in earnest. A loose wire left unguarded by a careless workman lay forgotten in the darkened tunnel. When Arthur fell in the water his body twitched several times against the wet wire, then total darkness. Arthur began to visualize a long tunnel. It seemed to be an ancient passage way, the walls were covered with forgotten languages. There appeared to be stacks of ancient parchments, stone, clay and wooden tablets and scrolls, the writing seems to go back before most of the earliest civilizations. A face appeared, it looked incredibly ancient, a voice seemed to enter and speak to Arthur’s psyche It is not your time ye, for ye have another path to follow Arthur turned to speak to the apparition, but it had disappeared.

Arthur’s body seemed to become hollow, similar to a long, black tunnel within himself He tried to scream, but he had no voice. From the far depths of his being, a white, blinding ball of light slowly began to come into view. The light came far below his feet to the height of his upper chest, at the same time a grey hand, covered with caked and clotted blood, and reeking of death, and disease grabbed Arthur. He was yanked toward the apparition, several voices crying out at once.

Doctor, we missed you, as Arthur looked about, his senses went into over time. The stench of decaying tissue, urine, feces, vomit, chemicals, garlic, Phenol, and black powder were evident. Patients were lying on floors, with uniforms fouled, caked with old bandages. The light was poor, carbide, and oil lamps provided illumination. A cold, bitter wind blew through the broken windows, and the sagging roof. Arthur looked at the chaos before him. A face was peering back on the reflected tin that enhanced the light, he saw a younger man in a spade beard wearing the uniform of the 42nd Infantry of Foot. A male nurse approached him and said,

Sir Richard, Doctor Andrews sends his compliments, and requests an audience in bunker three as soon as possible, Arthur felt confused, but thanked the orderly as he exited. Over the bunker in Cyrillic letters, proclaimed Balaclava. Arthur recalled from his history a retreat by the Russian army, due to their frustrated attempt to pass through the Dardanelles and gain entrance to the Mediterranean and the warm water ports. The scuttling of their fleet was to their desperate need for the cannons, and their crews turned in to Marines. The allies of England, Ottoman, and French empires had banded together at Sevastopol in the Crimea a peninsula separating the sea of Azov and the Black Sea to force the Russians from the occupied areas and the Dardanelles at Constantinople.

Arthur looked about, and found the building that was used to treat the injured. It was partially damaged, with broken windows, part of the roof was open to the elements, the winter of ’54/55 had arrived. The medical supply ship, Prince, was reported sunk. This was Balaclava. In Crimea, many men were down with Malaria, Cholera, scurvy, and fevers and influenza