#571
The more things are the same, the more they change. Bruce bulled his way into the small, impoverished rural clinic. spewing his usual anger at the dirty rooms, the boxes in the hall, and then he stumbled into the last room.
Not stopping to think, he stumbled into the latest hop-head holding the two woman staff hostage for a hit of drugs. The poc-marked, snaggle toothed human whirled around at the door crashing open, and shot good ole Doctor Bruce straight through the heart.
The women were screaming, further upsetting the thief, and he gave them a helpless look and ran out of the clinic.
The crumpled body wasn't moving, and the women had no way of knowing this was the long awaited doctor. The weary nurse practitioner felt for a pulse and told the CNA, "call the cops, this one is toast."
When the investigation was over, and it was noted that Bruce was to have been the new doctor, the CNA tiredly said. "I believe that's the record for the shortest time a doctor has been here."
The NP snorted her weariness and the foolishness of the short lived doctor. "I don't think I would have liked him anyway. He liked yelling, and I get enough of that at home."
The CNA nodded in commiseration and the two women sat down to have a little rest before they tackled the chore of cleaning the blood stained room.
"I hope I didn't throw away the letter with all the info on it," the NP meant the cover letter from Bruce. "I hate calling and telling people that their doctor was real stupid and paid with his life."
"I would guess they already had a clue to his personality," the CNA was serious. "After all, who sends a senile old man out to be a doctor in a criminal infested area; besides a family that can't stand the old coot any longer?" The CNA added knowingly, "it's a history that repeats itself.."
Clora knew what had happened. She walked back down the hall to tell Mark, and they said a prayer for Bruce. "I don't think he was saved," Mark mentioned into the silence of the room. "The way he acted, I don't believe he was."
"He sure resisted any mention," Clora sighed hard, "do you realize slowly but surely, all the old guard are passing on. We are the only original adults left."
"That's a grim thought, but you're right, our numbers are dwindling. I hate talks like this, it reminds me that I'm human and won't live forever. Other days, I'm fervently glad I won't live forever." Mark said with a small laugh. "Take today for example. I'm happy that we lost two thorny problems. but I shouldn't be so relieved, that's not what my Lord would do. Both Ben and Bruce were not a good influence for the family, creating more problems than they were worth. Once again Clora, do you want to go get Bruce's body?"
"No, I don't. We can if you think we should."
"Not on my account," Mark looked out the window at the blue sky, green grass and frowned. "I'm having a difficult time processing our time in Iowa; what it took to get there and back. I feel strangely ungrounded, and THAT has never happened before in my life. Well maybe once before, when I first met you." Mark added with a serious smile.
"That makes two of us," Clora saucily replied. "And these kinks in time, I can't explain them; have no information or advanced warning of what they were about. I can't even tell you if we will have more." Clora fluttered her hands and looked perturbed at the thought of more unexplained happenings. "I'm getting way too old for such shenanigans."
Mark was listening to something out of the room, and held up his hand. "The dogs are barking, someone is coming in the yard."
Behold, Woody Branch was there on business.