“It might not make a huge difference to you, but it could to me,” he admitted, shaking his head. “You see, I believe I am your grandson, many generations removed. You must marry and produce the three sons and one daughter, just as your parents did, or I could simply cease to exist, and I’m having too much fun with Cara to contemplate that.”
“Goodness!” Mead exclaimed.
“Exactly. Now would you like a hand getting dressed?” Witt asked.
“I suppose you could help me,” Mead teased with a slightly stunned look on his face. “After all, you should always respect your elders.”
Witt laughed and at that moment Cara stumbled into the room wearing a short nightgown that Mead had learned was called a baby doll. He could certainly understand why Witt was so worried about his existence. Cara was lovely and incredibly desirable. He turned his face away to cover his shock.
“What’s so funny out here?” Cara asked as she made her way to the machine that produced coffee.
“Oh nothing,” Witt answered. “Come on, old man. Let’s get you ready to go.”
Mead snickered as he wheeled back to the suite. Everything was getting more interesting by the minute.
The hospital wasthe largest building Mead had ever seen and he was awestruck. Floor after floor, it rose, hundreds of windows gleaming in the morning sun. Witt took the huge vehicle into a tunnel that led underground. He drove down several levels until he came to a secured area that was clearly marked ‘Staff Only’ and then stopped in a section that was delineated by white lines.
“Do you work here too?” Mead asked, looking around the well-lit hole beneath the building that was full of assorted conveyances.
“I’m sort of an honorary staff member. They call me in when they need an expert in my field,” he answered. Then he pushed a button, and the back of the vehicle began to open all by itself. “Sit tight while I get the chair out.”
It was a good thing he wasn’t going to be required to say much, as at the moment Mead was completely overwhelmed. Despite all the things Morgan had told him, none of them had prepared him for this trip into the future. Silently, he waited as Witt got the chair, opened the door and helped him settle into it. Then he purposefully clamped his mouth closed, figuring it might be a good idea since he was, for the most part, speechless.
Witt pushed the chair across the cavernous room and stopped before a metal door. He pushed a button of some sort and patted Mead’s shoulder reassuringly.
“Don’t worry, Pops,” he teased.
Mead snorted, but before he could reply the doors silently slid open and Witt pushed him inside. There he spun his chair around, so he was facing the doors and pushed one of the many buttons lit on a flat panel. Instantly, the door slid closed, and they began to rise with Mead watching the numbers. Every few numbers the ride stopped, and the doors opened as people got on and off, many of them speaking to Witt. Finally, they reached number 22 and exited.
“My goodness,” Mead sighed shaking his head.
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Witt replied. “Just remember, you have amnesia. People will ask you questions, ones you really don’t want to answer truthfully. Shrug your shoulders and look to me to reply. I’ll stay with you for as long as I can, but some test areas are restricted due to radiation risks. I’ll have to wait outside the room, but I’ll be there when they wheel you out. You okay?”
“Yes,” Mead breathed with as much confidence as he could muster. “I don’t intend to arouse anyone’s suspicions.”
Witt nodded and wheeled him to a tall desk. He spoke quietly with the woman behind it and soon Witt was pushing him down a long hall. After that he spent three hours being poked and prodded as they drew blood, took x-rays and finally placed him on a long, narrow table that sort of sucked him into a tube. There was strange music playing in the background, but nothing could drown out the hammering and grinding sounds as the machine did its’ job.
After that they were free to leave. A tall man in a white coat told Witt he would call him later in the afternoon with the results and some recommendations. Then they were back in the little silver box going down, down, down. Once they reached the level where Witt’s vehicle was, he helped him into it and stowed the chair in the back.
“Well, was it as bad as you expected?” Witt asked as he backed out of the lined square.
“I guess not,” Mead admitted. “Nothing really painful happened and all of the nurses were kind. I’m just glad it’s over.”
Witt nodded in agreement.
“I think it went well. They bought the amnesia story, and no one pestered me for details while you were having the MRI. So far, so good I’d say. Are you hungry?”
“Starving,” Mead replied honestly.
“Me too. I think we’ll grab a burger. I don’t usually eat fast food, but this is one occasion where I think it’s acceptable to make an exception. Besides, I don’t think you should leave without having a big fat greasy burger,” he concluded with a laugh.
“A burger?” Mead asked.
“Yes, it’s sort of the staple of modern living, and most likely why so many men die of heart attacks.”
“If it’s going to kill me, I think I’ll pass,” Mead replied.
“It won’t,” Witt said laughing. “Although, you’ll likely miss it once you return home.”
