THE CHASE

Never taking “the eye” off his prey, the doctor slowly approached the white cabinet, and sure enough, he pulled out a needle the size of a sled. It was one of those metal frame jobs with a needle the size of a two-inch pipe that you see used on horses and cattle today. He was very slow and meticulous as he drew the serum, the doctor looked at the serum and back again at me. He looked back and forth, back and forth, until he was satisfied that the dose would be long and painful. It was at this point where I displayed my first pilot aptitudes: judgment and planning.

We had been through this drill before (no pun intended) and in my judgment, there was no point in sticking (sorry) around. I had already planned my escape route, and the chase was on. To hell with airplanes, I didn’t know much about them, but I knew plenty about my current grim situation.

With the examining table acting as the “infield,” I found, much to my surprise, that on the second lap, I was leading down the backstretch. I’d gone right for the door at our last session, so I thought the warm-up laps around the table would mislead them as to my intention. I was just about to make my egress out the back door, but as I rounded the forth corner, there was Halley, the doctors equally imposing nurse and she had me blocked. Mom was covering the other door, but by that time, the long arm and fleshy hand latched on to my shirt collar: I was nailed, literally and figuratively.