IMAGINATION'S PLACE
FICTION

 

TRANSPLANT
By; Speaker Gerald A. Polley


Jonathan Wick was a man of privledge. Being CMO of Northwest HMO gave him a lot of perks. He pulled his Mercedes into his private spot, gathered up his briefcase, and got out of his car. As he turned to shut the door someone put their hand on his shoulder, and he felt a sharp burning.
"What the hell?" he cried. He turned around to see a middle aged woman staring at him angrily.
"Who are you?" Jonathan demanded, 'What are you doing here? This section of the parking facility is for executives only!"
"I'm Emma Cloud..." the woman answered, "I just put my mark on you. Because of you my husband's in the hospital in a vegatative state from a stroke, because your accountants would not authorize the treatment he needed."
"Madame," Jonathan snapped, "our accountants do not set medical practice. We have a staff of highly skilled doctors for that. If they say your husband did not need the treatment you requested, he didn't need the treatment! If he had a stroke it was from some other cause."
A security guard appeared and Jonathan motioned him over. "Get this woman out of here, and see to it that this area is secure from now on!"
He got to his office and his secretary brought in his coffee and a stack of papers. "What's this?" he asked.
"More complaints, sir," the secretary answered, "from Midwest Benefits, complaining about the change in policy since we bought out their health plan. These people are really upset, sir!"
"Let them be!" Jonathan snapped. "That buyout brought our stock up ten per cent. We're not a charity, Christie! These people have to learn that. Now that we're running the health care planreasonability has to rule, not emotion."
"But they WERE a charity, sir," the secretary complained, "that's what these people are complaining about. They're taking legal action saying the administrators had no right to sell out to you."
"Let them!" Jonathan answered. "That's what we pay our lawyers for. We can hold out in court longer than they can; keep it tied up so long they'll have to give up and still make a handsome profit on the takeover."
The secretary sighed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Wick," she announced, "I have to tender my resignation. I have a conscience. I just can't work here any more. I'm giving my two week's notice."
Jonathan shook his head. "You're paid damned well!" he complained, "If you want to be paid less and not worry about the downtrodden masses, that's up to you. Go on! Get out! Damn!" he cursed after the secretary was gone. "Third one this year! Why can't personnel find an executive secretary that understands coporate reality?"
Jonathan finished the day and headed home to his condominium. Luxurious was an understatement! He checked his bank account to see if his monthly coporate bonus had been deposited yet, then considered calling the service and seeing if Susie was available, but then changed his mind. What these girls were charging lately for a little bit of fun was getting outrageous! He'd wait for his usual night. he decided on another form of pleasure. He opened a desk drawer, took out a mirror and a razor blade, then discovered he hadn't replenished his supply. He got up and started across the room.
Suddenly, incredible pain seized him! He felt like his head was exploding. He looked towards the balcony. In the reflection of its door he could see himself. A winged being was standing behind him and had his hand in his head! In the other hand he held a glowing silver ball. That was the last thing Jonathan remembered until he opened his eyes. There was something in his throat. He could feel his chest being forced up and down. He tried to move his body but nothing would respond, not even his eyes would move. He could only stare straight ahead.
"He's awake!" came a woman's voice.
"Yes," deep, sombre male tones answered.
The winged being came into Jonathan's field of vision, accompanied by the woman from the parking lot.
"Arthur is much appreciative," the woman continued. "It's a very good body. How long will he be able to use it?"
"Forty-five, forty-six years," the winged being answered, "you will have to keep your relationship concealed for the next seven-and-a-half years, then you will be able to get married and live together again."
Jonathan tried to speak, but no words came out.
"It's useless," the winged being commented, "Mr. Wick, struggling will only bring you anguish. It is best simply to accept your condition and live with it. You'll get used to it, in time."
"What did you do?" Jonathan screamed in his mind. "What did you do?"
"I exchanged your Soul," the being answered, "with that of one of your victims. He now has your body, and enough information to bring your corrupt little financial empire down! He'll spend a few more months setting things up and then he'll go to the authorities, and tell them how you managed some of these brilliant takeovers. The people will regain control of their health care plans and get the service they're entitled to and many of your friends will find themselves in new accomodations.
You have forty-five years of life left in your old body. This one is going to last only seven-and-a-half. But don't worry! I'll find another one for you when this one gives out. You'll get your full forty-five years of life. See you when its time to move, Mr. Wick! Enjoy your leisure!"
The being and the woman disappeared.
"NO!" Jonathan kept screaming in his mind. "NO! IN THE NAME OF GOD SOMEBODY HELP ME! IN THE NAME OF GOD SOMEBODY HELP ME!"
But nobody answered, nobody came. No one could hear.

 

THE END

 

Return To Links Page