#19

"I managed to save all of them. Nobody thought that what I shot would be of any importance. It if isn't digital, or have a two foot lens nobody takes it seriously. You know I had the lens pointed to the reenactment not the parking lot. That reenactment was about half a mile from the parking lot.

And Bergheimer, I know about velocity and what wounds look like. I can tell the difference between a black powder wound and a high velocity wound from a modern weapon. Trust me we have both kinds of murders in Atlanta."

Berg didn't much care for her constant butchering of his name, but at the moment she had the wheels. He could probably disable her and steal the car, but that didn't seem necessary at that moment. Besides she was the one person who could prove he had nothing to do with the hit on Peter. It was in his best interest to stay close and protect her. She was also likely to have assets he could use.

"Bergerstien, I left my wagon back there in the exhibit area. I will have to go back for it or they will come looking for me. So do I need to stash you somewhere first, or will they not be all that interested."

"Oh they'll be interested okay," Berg replied.

"Then choose a place you want to spend a couple of hours. After I get the wagon we can go find a lab and a high resolution scanner for these negatives."

"Okay drop me at a coffee shop at one of these exits. I can have lunch while you load the wagon."

"Damn, you gonna' calmly eat lunch while they are looking all over for you, and I am working my butt off loading my stuff."

"That's pretty much the plan yeah."

"In that case, I'm going to find a place with a truck park. At least then, I'll be able to get the trailer in and out without too large a hassle."

The restaurant turned out to be a Shoney's. It had the required double length pull through parking spaces in a separate parking lot across the street. Sarah Lee dropped Berg in front of the building, then drove away.

As he watched her go Berg thought that she drove like a cop. Always either on the gas or the brakes. Ready to accelerate or to stop dead on a spit second's notice. He didn't like that style of driving, but he understood it. Convoy drivers did pretty much the same thing. Go like hell when you go, and stop at very short distances.

Berg had finished his lunch well before Sarah Lee made it back. He was sitting on one of the benches in the grass area beside the truck park when she pulled in. The very old land cruiser was hard to miss. Evidently she saw him as well, since she didn't park. Instead she pulled up several yards away and waited.

Berg looked around carefully before he moved to the twenty year old, beat up suv. He opened the door that complained with a groan. "Why the hell don't you oil those hinges," he asked.

"I usually sleep in a tent beside this thing. I'm a light sleeper," it was all she needed to say. For someone half asleep it would be a better alarm than a car horn. The bad guy would most likely still be trying to get the door open when he suddenly grew a 10mm Glock out of his ear. At least that's how he would have done it.

The Lab turned out to be in her dad's home. She had called ahead on her cell phone so he was waiting.

"And what the devil have you gotten yourself into now?" He asked as she moved to hug him. He talked to her and hugged her, but he never took his eyes off Berg.

"One of the park people got shot at the reenactment. I need to get a couple of drum scans of my negatives."

"You know where the lab is and how it works. By the way you going to introduce me to your friend."

"It's better you not know daddy," Sarah Lee said with finality in her voice. "We were never here, right?"

"Are you kidding, since when would a kid visit her father on anything like a regular basis?"

"I know, I know but I've been busy."

"Yeah, I can see that." He did smile when he said it.

"It isn't what you think or what you wish even."

"Speaking of not what I wish, the faggot and the dyke are looking for you."

"Daddy, I have asked you a dozen times to not call them that. Beside to be technically correct, she is a faghag." Sarah lee walked toward the small building in the rear of the house. She carried what appeared to be a small cloth cooler in her left hand. Sarah Lee seldom carried things in her right hand.

Bergstrom followed her into the building. The small unlocked building was cut up into four tiny rooms. One of the rooms was a small darkroom complete with a working sink with one of those in line water heaters. State of the art Berg guessed, as he looked about. Sarah left the bag there then showed him the other three rooms. The other small room held a mounting press and tiny frame shop. The frames were made up already. They resided in cubbyholes on the wall. There must have been a couple of thousand dollars worth. On closer examination they all showed signs of having been used.

Sarah Lee noticed his attention to the frames. "Saturday morning yard sales," she replied. Bergstrom nodded.

The last two doors were deceptive. One went into a very tiny room with a drum enlarger and a small table with computer on top. The other door led to a small but complete portrait studio. Not large enough to do anything larger they head and shoulders, or maybe waist to head things.

After the tour Sarah began to develop the film she had shot.

LE SURSIS A ACCORDE

Hier un sursis de la guillotine a été accordé au Monsieur L. Pinky et sa bande. Le chirurgien dans la charge a dit qu'il peut être seulement temporaire. Plus de temps sera donné pour guérir.

ENGLISH TRANSLATION -

Yesterday a reprieve from the guillotine was granted to Mister L. Pinky and his gang. The surgeon in charge said it may only be temporary. More time will be given to heal.

# 18

“Berg! What the hell are you doing in my truck and this is breaking and entering, you know.”

“Actually it would just be entering. It wasn’t locked.”

“Where have you been? The FBI and some big black CIA type have been looking for you.”

“Yeah, I was interview by a couple of the guys from the FBI and they were talking freak accident stemming from the live fire demo earlier this afternoon.”

“So much for the spare no assets investigation.”

“Sarah, we need to get away from here, now!”

“OK, where to Berg?” “Just drive. Hell, get on 285. It’s always crowded and goes no where from what I can tell.”

“Sarah, Did you see Peter’s head wound? It wasn’t made by any Civil War Musket that’s for sure. Even a 58 or 62 caliber musket wouldn’t do that kind of damage. Oh sure, he’d have a silver dollar-sized hole in the back of his head but he’d still have the back of his head.”

Sarah remembered Peter’s face with the almost perfect ½ inch hole just above his eye and that most of the back, a third of the side and all of his brains were gone.

“So what did it Berg? A magic gun.”

“Do you see this?”

Berg held out what looked like a small plastic yellow flower with four petals.

“Do you know what this is?”

Sarah thought the object looked familiar but couldn’t place it.
“It’s a sabot. They’re used to stabilize a projectile in a smooth bore gun. It’s just a miniature version of what’s used in the Abrams tank.”

“Sarah, I saw the big black man that was talking to you. Does he still go by Virgil? He liked that name.”

“Yes, but it was like pulling teeth to get a name from him. So you know this Virgil guy? That can’t be good can it?”

“Well I don’t consider him being here a coincidence if that’s what you mean. Virgil was one of the CIA’s top assassins the Middle East. We used him to make things easier with certain local warlords who wouldn’t come around to our thinking.”

“So, you think he did Peter but why?”

“No, but I’ll bet he was handling the shooter. He wouldn’t exactly blend in here now would he.”

“Sarah, were you able to save any of your photos? There might be some clues there.”

MY LIFE AS A MOVIE...Doctor's Visits

THE GOOD





The good news is my brain is still working and I know my name, all three of us do.

The fistula in my left arm looks good and is now ready to use. I guess I start either this Friday or Monday depending on how long it takes the unit to set up for it.

Then in two weeks the cath will come out of my chest and full showers will again be possible.


THE BAD

The bad news is the problem the original fistula that caused the diminished blood flow to my hand has caused an unwanted result.

It seems now I'm going to lose only the non-essential fingers on that hand. No more pistol twirling with that hand and maybe a little slower on the draw too.

THE UGLY

The uglyeulogy news is I never was aware I had any non-essential fingers on either hand! Much less any desire to "lose" them.

I guess that means I'll get to keep my middle finger which is good. I think I may have much use for it in the future in communicating with a few of my doctors.

Doctor Visits... How many can you do in a day?

Quarry Towers at Sunrise




Photographed 9/06



Have you ever tried to arrange more than one doctor's appointment for the same day? Thay in itself can be hard enough but ay times close to each other is impossible I have concluded. No matter how far in advance you plan it's not going to happen.

Can you guess where I'm going to do today? That's right, visit a couple of my docs.
First is the vascular surgeon at 9:30 am which means I leave the house at 7:45 to get there on time (Atlanta morning rush hour traffic.. It's a misnomer. It's really the Atlanta snail race.) Then sit in a waiting room for an hour or so.

The other is my neurologist. He's only in the next building but, hours away. I see him at 2:15 pm with a guaranteed hour plus waiting room time.

By the time we enter the afternoon's snail race, I will have shot my whole dialysis-free day. I hate that too. I really look forward to them and it seems a shame to have to waste it waiting around for routine appointments that last maybe ten minutes and the result is " come see me in six months, sooner if you have any problems and by the way. That'll be $250 for today's visit."

That's my vent for today.
Old Tractor




Photographed 8/06


Just a couple of recent photographs I thought were interesting. I liked the way the sunlight illuminated the towers in the first one against the early morning sky.

The old tractor I saw one day sitting along the roadside. It reminded me of how I feel - old and rusty but still working.

Regards to all - Mark

Miss Kitty

Miss Kitty Pets Sue








In my last update we thought Miss Kitty was much better. a couple of days later we started to notice small blood droplets on the floor I took her again to the vet (Sue was out of town) The vet did an exam and found a mass she hadn't detected before. After X-rays provided no clue they had to sedate Miss Kitty and do an exploratory on her. The vet was worried about sedating her because of her age. They found she had an intestinal blockage which had caused the bleeding and her earlier problems.

for the first time in her life Miss Kitty had to stay overnight at the vet. They wanted to keep an eye on her because of the sedation - she was throwing up and not feeling well. By this time Sue had returned and she went and picked-up Miss Kitty at 7am to get her home. For the next few day MK just slept and didn't eat. Finally she started eating a very small amount.

Now, after a week she seems to be back to her old self. Not missing a meal, begging for turkey or chicken whenever we have it.

I on the other hand haven't felt good in some time now and I'm beginning to question is this worth it. It seems like I feel bad almost all the time. I think it may be time just to give up this battle. A few months back the hospital overdosed me with morphine and I went into arrest. I remember none of this. There was no pain, it didn't hurt. They brought me back- breaking a rib in the process (CPR). Sometimes I think it would have been better just to have let me slip away no more sickness, no pain.