Body Trap

By Lassiter and Pumphrey

Bernie awakens to darkness and thinks hes dead. Theres no other explanation. He cant move or see; hes surrounded by nothingness. Hes dead, right? Yet as he reflects on his life, theres a rather gaping empty space where his death should be. He cant remember the circumstances of his untimely demise, which is when he realizes hes not dead at all.

Hes in a state of coma, but he can hear voices around him. Hes alive, but he cant make contact with the living world. Only then does he again begin to reflect on his lifenot life but lives. His current existence, his current body, is one of many, beginning in the Spanish Inquisition when Bernie was executed for witchcraft.

The touch of magic has followed him throughout his remaining lives. Loved ones are found and lost again, over decades and then centuries. Bernies consistent rebirth is due to his use of witchcraft to mess with preordained destiny. Hes utterly defenseless in his current state, but he must find a way to fight those who mean him harm. Otherwise, this will be his last incarnation, and it will not end well.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Aug 14, 2015
• ISBN: 9781491771440

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

IN THE BEGINNING THERE WAS LIGHT

W here am I, what the heck happened? It’s so dark, I can’t see anything. Oh God! I can’t feel anything; what’s wrong with me? Help! Somebody please help me. I don’t feel my lips moving and I don’t hear my own voice; did I die? Bernie thought to him self.

How did this happen, when did it happen, where did it happen and why? I must be in some sort of limbo, purgatory, or maybe this is Hell. What happened to the bright light people talk about when they have a near death experience or die? I didn’t see a friggin’ thing.

Isn’t some family member supposed to show up and guide me to the other side? I hope it won’t be hot when I get there. It would really be neat if dad came to guide me; maybe dads had a few and lost his way. Pop’s put down the Seagram’s and help me out here. If I knew I was going to die before I could ask for forgiveness I would have cleaned up my act.

Bernie regarded his father awesome, even when Bernie senior (Known As Pops to Bernie) was drunk. As a child, his ever-under-the-influence father taught him everything from carpentry, plumbing, electrical, roofing, to auto repair, and beyond. Pop’s was a jack-of-all-trades but a master of none. Up until now, there hadn’t been a damn thing Bernie needed to know that Pop’s hadn’t taught him. That knowledge had served him well in life, so he called upon his dad to teach him something that would serve him just as well in what he thought was death.

When Bernie was a little kid, his dad would take him on the road. Pop’s drove while Bernie fueled his dad’s 50 mph party with the two half-pints of Seagram’s his father kept in his seven-year-old boy’s cowboy boots, hidden away under the legs of his pants. He was the unofficial bartender at that ripe old age. Pop’s was once pulled over by the Chino Police right in the middle of their raging road party.

Although Bernie senior’s two-fisted drinking had already taken him through half of each bottle, he had no problem passing the field sobriety test. Pops could probably have scaled mountains while wasted, so touching his nose and walking a straight line during a test didn’t faze him the slightest bit. The police removed the secret bar boy from the car while they searched it, but never found a thing. Pop’s continued along their merry way.

Crap, this really sucks. What was I doing before I died? Bernie seemed to recall working with chemicals in his warehouse, adding a mix of nitrate, borax, molly, and caustic soda to a formula he would sell to one of his regular customers. The mixer he used was 110 volts, and he wasn’t standing in a pool of water, so he quickly ruled out electrocution, and none of those chemicals would cause death from inhalation, so that couldn’t have caused this mess. At that moment, he remembered boarding an airplane in Burbank, bound for the Boise airport. Fleeting memories and flash backs coupled with strange dreams or visions bombarded Bernie’s memory. He was on his way to Sandpoint, Idaho!

Sandpoint is a beautiful……..

Bits and pieces of memory pounded Bernie’s memory. He knew his ultimate destination was Sandpoint, he couldn’t quite remember why. Business?…or pleasure? I remember now I was leaving town and going to Sand Point but for what reason and why Sand Point Idaho, was it business or pleasure? I boarded a plane in Burbank, California and we were landing in Boise Idaho, that’s the last thing I recall. I’m in a fog. I have fleeting memories and memory flash backs coupled with strange dreams or visions. What’s that, a commercial is playing in my head?

The community of Sandpoint, at an elevation just over 2,000 ft., serves as the county seat of Bonner County (population 35,226 in 1999). For more than a century, its economy depended heavily on the lumber industry. Beginning in the late 1980’s, the tourism industry began to grow rapidly in response to increasing awareness of the region’s four-season climate.

With an annual average rainfall of 33.5 inches and annual snowfall of 71.7 inches, residents experience few sub-zero days in the winter, while summer days rarely exceed 90°. The average year-round temperature is 47° and there are close to 125 frost-free days each year. The humidity level is comparatively low, the nights are generally comforting and summertime typically offers weeks of blue sky, sunny days. This is, of course, to the delight of boating, fishing, swimming, water skiing and hiking enthusiasts!

I must have read an ad or something; I’ve always had a photographic memory just been short on developer, so why this BS, was I going on vacation?

That old saying is so true. If I knew I was going to live this long I would have taken better care of myself so very true. Those double quarter pounders with cheese, fries, all supersized, that must have done me in. Jack La Lane was right I should have had the salad. Dam the torpedoes full speed ahead was my motto and look where it got me, sunk and deader than a doornail.

Is this going to be like Ghost with Whoopi Goldberg and Patrick Swayze? Are those demons coming to drag me to Hell?

I should have gone to church, and said my prayers and helped my fellow man. To late to be a better man; maybe I can just beg for forgiveness and ask to be sent back to learn my lessons. Closing the gate after the cow got out, so to speak. Maybe I’ll get some time off for good behavior or for having given money to the homeless guy’s. Yeah, like I had some good behavior.

Hey wait, it’s suddenly brighter. Maybe it’s the bright light coming for me. John Edwards I’m not ready to cross over!. I need to figure some things out first. I’ll just hang out here and work this out. That way I can avoid any changes in temperature.

The light is not getting any brighter and what was that, I thought I heard something? I did hear something! sounds like a sweet melody, Angels? I hear a familiar song; would an Angel be singing a Lenny Kravitz tune?

I was expecting something more Angelical like Ave Maria.

CHAPTER 2

IT’S ALIVE, IT’S ALIVE

T he sound of other people’s voices was music to his ears. In addition, what is better, they were voices of two medical care professionals! The first voice was decidedly male, deep with a hint of authority. The second voice was soft, feminine, and almost other wor ldly.

Nurse, make sure his IV and catheter are clear running. I’ll be back to check on him after I finish my rounds.

Yes, doctor, he’s been completely unresponsive.

There is no living will to stipulate a DNR should his condition worsen, for now there is brain activity; we will keep him on the ventilator, nurse.

Bernie thanked God for his grace, and made the typical promises of a man bargaining with his maker. He swore he’d make church his priority and the Lord could count on him every time they passed around the little collection basket. He’d take better care of himself, stop drinking, help his fellow man and eat better. He considered giving up supersizing his value meals, but, on second thought, maybe he’d just choose a chicken sandwich, every once in a while.

The comfort he felt, knowing he was in a hospital quickly faded as he realized that he still couldn’t speak or move. In desperation, he concentrated on moving his lips, on forming the words. Why can’t I feel anything? What’s wrong with me? Can anyone hear me!? but no sound escaped him, and no answers to his questions came. In the midst of his mind’s chaos, while he was trying to determine just how screwed and frightened he was, he felt as though he was drifting, being spirited away to some unknown destination.

The feeling was disconcerting, but he’d never been a fan of hospitals, anyway. Bernie Imagined that like all hospitals in urban areas this one would be basically the same, no exception. It would look like a brick fortress that had made an effort to look welcoming but had fallen short of reaching that goal. The carefully manicured lawn and shrubbery, carport, newspaper stand, benches and bus stops were bland and as welcoming as a Wal-Mart.

The lobby an identifiable style, in this case was old English and Colonial, bulky dark ornate furnishings and over-stuffed couches, with an information center, gift shop, partitioned off area with wheelchairs parked like cars.

A maze of sparkling corridors leading in all directions and eventually to an elevator with Administration and Personnel Offices to the side of the building the Emergency room, Admissions, a snack bar and indoor picnic area scattered vending machines and automats, a cafeteria where special diets for inpatients were prepared in addition to an open cookery and buffet for guests, family and employees, Laboratory, Chemotherapy, Radiology, Respiratory Care, Physical Therapy, Out Patient Surgery and Pharmacy, Obstetrics adjoining a nursery, and toward the back of the building central supply laundry, housekeeping, a backyard smoking gazebo: all of these were hallways off the main corridors.

Elevators on the upper floors opened to more corridors leading to departments such as the Inpatient Pharmacy, operating rooms Intensive and Coronary Care wards nearby, Nuclear Medicine and Pediatrics. More elevators opened upward to corridors leading to all medical and surgical wads, isolation units, and specialized care units with nursing stations, kitchens, storage etc. for each. Floors above these were for the use of surgeons/other specialists for sleeping quarters and general use; still above, for building maintenance operations.

Nurse’s white uniform dresses and caps became obsolete medical personnel wearing scrubs and/or white jackets only. Exposures to serum hepatitis and HIV brought automatic capping needle hubs, and with the recurrence to TB, and many antibiotic-resistant infections biohazard control became a huge industry. Every advance added enormously to cost. Necessity is the mother of invention.

Some unknown amount of time, it could have been days, minutes, weeks, or hours, and Bernie came to with a start, wondering how long he had been out. He remembered the doctor and nurse discussing that he had something or other brain activity, and that he was on life support, but he had no further information regarding his condition. Maybe…Bernie thought.. Something might have hit me on the head! Or, I could’ve had a stroke from those damn quarter pounders with cheese! He felt trapped. Trapped in his own body with no way to communicate with the outside world. This condition seemed to Bernie like another of God’s little jokes, like how asparagus is bitter, horrible and great for you, but chocolate chip cookies are delightful delicious, and chalked full of calories.

Doctor, we had a lapse in brain activity lasting 10 seconds, according to the monitor, but he seems to have returned to his previous levels.

Until we receive the full work up we’re operating in the dark. Has the family been notified?

"Operating in the dark! Who said anything about operating? Doctor Slice and Dice, you just hold on there. You shouldn’t be allowed to play with sharp objects. Are you thinking you can just pull the plug? You must have received your license to practice from Forest Lawn; did they give you a free scalpel with your diploma and you’ve been dying to try it out. Geez, just because a guy can’t answer doesn’t mean he’s ready for the big evaluation in the sky.

Were trying to reach them, his next of kin Mrs. Hanenberger, appears to be out of the country. He has children and stepchildren living in various places in California, but we haven’t been able to reach them. Tell admissions to continue trying to contact the family, we may need them to make a decision soon.

Bernard found himself in a further state of panic "A decision? What decision? You said I don’t have a Living Will or DNR or whatever! How can any decision be made without my input! I’m in here, for Christ’s sake! I’m a human being, and just because you can’t hear me doesn’t mean I’m a goner.

He felt like crying and he would cry out, if he could. He wanted more time. He had two girls and one boy from his first marriage and a daughter from his second. The third marriage came with stepchildren, two girls and a boy he regarded as his own. When he married his third wife, he took on the philosophy that you have to be all you can be for those kids. In his mind, there was no such thing as Step Kids. Steps are something you put your foot on. His kids were his kids, no matter who birthed them. Seven kids, all good ones, with the exception of one boy from the first marriage a pretty good litter, he’d always thought.

Bernie, despite his difficult childhood, had made something of himself. He was a soldier Be all you can be; An Army of one. He and three buddies enlisted during the Viet Nam war, not their brightest moment. They went to the recruiter’s office and took the Armed Forces Qualification Test known commonly as the AFQT, in later years the test became the Armed Services Vocational Ability Battery ASVAB. They all passed. The Army had three new recruits during the Viet Nam war. After the test results came back, it was Bernard who had the lowest score, despite the nerdy glasses. He was mathematically challenged. They all qualified for Combat Engineers.

They reported to the Military Entrance Processing Station on Broadway Boulevard in Los Angeles California for the physical examination, and because they could all see lightening and hear thunder, they passed with flying colors.

There were some interesting characters in line at the MEPS. One gentleman was wearing a dress; he was selected for the Marine Corps.

The draft was in full swing and the excuses to avoid it ranged from conscientious objector to homosexuality. In the line of the drafted each draftee was counted off 1,2,3. Every number 2 was pulled out of line and went to the Marine Corps. This was the first time they were glad they had enlisted in the Army.

Off they go to beautiful Ford Ord California for basic combat training. Meningitis was going pervasive, and they were required to keep at arms length from one another, as if this was going to work. Meningitis, an Inflammation of the three membranes that surround and protect the brain and the spinal cord has symptoms of vomiting, severe headache, and stiff neck. Death comes within hours.

The barracks windows were kept fully open at all times; it was November. Uncle Sam was generous and gave each soldier two wool olive drab Army blankets. There were several of us who died of meningitis. We were silly; we thought the war was the only thing that was going to kill us.

We hung around the reception station barracks waiting for the previous training cycle to move out of the actual training area so we could meet our drill instructor. During our time in the reception station, we were issued our uniforms and received our orientation concerning the Soldiers Group Life Insurance, something the black widows were very interested in. A black widow was a very attractive woman who would get affectionate and get the interest of a not so handsome GI and marry him, hoping he was going to get killed and she would collect his life insurance. Black widows were very found of infantry soldiers.

The Army issued our dog tags, and a military serial number. The first part of your serial number was RA, US or NG. RA was regular Army, US for draftees and NG for National Guard. Eight numbers followed the first two letters and we were instructed to commit this serial number to memory. That number burned into your brain lasts for all time.

On your dog tags were serial number, blood type and religious preference. Later we learned the religious preference determined if you attended church or synagogue during training and who would preside over your body upon your premature death. These were comforting thoughts. I had no preference on my dog tags and could attend anything, church or synagogue, and be presided over by anyone.

After receiving our uniforms, doggie tags, and orientation, we lined up for inoculations. We were the first group to have the privilege of getting most of our shots with the new, and untested, automatic air injection system.

In the shot line, we were instructed not to flinch during the administration of the inoculations. Two lines were formed and the first guy in my line flinched, and his arm was torn open. The poor bastard in front of me fainted, but as luck would have it, there were two medics available to drag him through the rest of the procedure. Oh happy days! During the 1950s and 1960s Fort Ord was a staging area for units departing for war, and at one time had 50,000 troops on the installation.

The big day arrived and we met our Drill Instructor, Sergeant First Class Lively.

CHAPTER 3

A LIVELY BEGINNING

M y name is Sergeant First Class Lively and I will be your drill instructor. You are to address me as Sergeant First Class Lively, not Serge or Sergeant but Sergeant First Class Lively. I hope I’m being c lear.

You will not speak until spoken to and you will respond with Sergeant First Class Lively and answer my questions. For example, if I say, What’s your name maggot? you will respond, Sergeant First Class Lively my name is, and you will state your name."

My mission is to instruct you in Basic Combat Survival. We will learn the basics of military drills and ceremonies, survival in a combat environment, basic marksmanship, and military etiquette. You will begin to enter the world of the combat ready Army. I will endeavor to instruct you how to survive in Viet Nam; I will fail to reach all of you, and some of you will die.

Your Advanced Individual Training will follow Eight weeks of Basic Training. In AIT you will learn your Military Occupational Specialty know as your MOS.

The length of your AIT will depend on your MOS. How many of you maggots are 11 B Infantry? Those of you who raised your hand fall out into a group to my left. The rest of you limp dicks are going to be my special detail soldiers. I will choose squad leaders from my 11 Bravo’s. You squad leaders will follow my instructions and see that the limp dicks perform my details in a military manner.

You will write home today. I want to see a letter in every hand tomorrow morning. You will inform your relations of your safe arrival, and you will also state that you are not to receive any care packages containing such contraband as candy, cookies or anything sweet. Do I make myself clear limp dick maggots?

That was special. The last time I was called a limp dick was when Shirley Magillacuty wanted to screw me; she was such a raving beauty at three hundred plus pounds that try as I might I simply could not rise to the occasion. Shirley was a nice person: I liked her, she had a good personality. Sorry Shirley! Shirley wouldn’t talk to me after our encounter behind the bleachers and said if I ever told anyone she would cut my balls off. Being rather fond of my balls, and a gentleman, I never said anything.

Basic training at Fort Ord was conducted for both men and women. Imagine my surprise when I saw a company of women marching through our training area, and Shirley Magillacuty, a lean mean fighting machine, was the company’s drill instructor.

Eight weeks of Basic Training and twelve weeks of Advanced Individual Training and off to Southeast Asia I go. Viet Nam the Disney Land of Hell.

I was sent to Fort Lewis Washington for transport via Tiger Air Lines. After one quick stop in Guam we arrived at Cam Rahn Bay Viet Nam. We spent the first few days digging holes in the sand and then filling them up, an exercise in becoming accustomed to the heat and humidity.

After our exercise in climate customizations which never worked. I was sent to Pleiku in the central highlands to join my unit.

One day I went into Pleiku City, I really don’t remember why I was there, and was looking around at the city’s various shops and the metal building made from discarded beer cans. A street vendor was pushing a two wheeled cart and was selling Coka Cola’s in bottles. I had been briefed about the VC putting ground glass in bottled beverages and was told that should I buy a drink from a street vendor to remove the cap and place the palm of my hand on the top of the bottle then turn it upside down with palm in place for a few seconds. After righting the drink hold your hand in the sun light and examine your palm for the sparkling glass if there is any.

I did as I was told in the briefing and was pleased to find nothing on my palm. Still holding the soda and about to take a drink I noticed several yards in front of me a group of GI’s bull shitting in a group. A kid aged 7 or 8 was running towards the group Gum GI, gum he was repeating over and over as he approached the group. Upon reaching the soldiers he detonated himself killing all four.

I was thrown back from the force of the explosion against the wall and in turning my head I looked at the cola bottle I was holding and witnessed a chunk of flesh sliding down the side of the bottle. Horrified and looking down I then realized I was splattered with blood and gore.

This experience is a fleeting memory and details foggy but it was a turning point in my life, never was I to be the same man again.

The year was 1968, the year of the Tet Offensive, counter Tet and Ho Chi Minh’s birthday. We didn’t bake Ho Chi Minh a cake or ask him to blow out the candles.

Ho Chi Minh misunderstood about blowing out the candles: he thought we said blow up the candles. We got our own fireworks show every night. And the rocket’s red glare, the bombs bursting in air, and all through the night we were still there. No offense intended Francis Scott Key.

Rocket and mortar attacks every night without fail. Our Battalion was ordered to move down Highway One and establish a base at Ban Me Thuot. The Battalion was to setup base camp and begin its operations. We arrived at Ban Me Thuot late in the evening and began to establish a temporary parameter.

Around midnight the Viet Cong began to probe our parameter and a ground attack was immanent. In order to protect our hastily and poorly prepared parameter we called for artillery support.

The American artillery was up to their asses in fire missions and we had to resort to requesting fire support from the South Viet Nam artillery. The ARVN artillery fired twenty 155mm artillery rounds and all twenty fell within our parameter. The VC withdrew; it was dangerous to be near us, and it was starting to get light. The ARVN artillery was so accurate they hardly missed a single piece of our equipment. I think the VC gave them an award for their superior shooting. We lost men that day, as well as equipment, and our effectiveness was all but gone. Somebody accomplished their mission.

As the Artillery was bombarding us I was laying in a hastily dug hole. The blasts were resounding in my ears like my head was in a bell and I was the ringer. Explosions followed by bright flashes of light and flying debris forced me to keep my head down. In between explosions one could hear the whoosh of the next incoming round. Peaking my head above the rim of the fox hole I saw body parts of some poor bastard who didn’t make it to the hole before the first round exploded. Legs standing in boots with no body attached caught my eye and I began to laugh hysterically.

"My laughter continued for several