Rebirth of a Marine
Aaron Pery
www.airper@aol.com
Smashwords ebook Edition
All Rights Reserved
ISBN #978-1-4581-9086-4
Copyright 2011 by Aaron Pery
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Rebirth of a Marine
Prologue
A disturbance in the periphery of its environment awakened the being from its energy preserving slumber to reach the fringes of its awareness. It sent out perception feelers toward the source of the sudden unfamiliar disorder in its surroundings and observed it with interest. It was the first time ever that the organism was able to sense anything beyond its immediate milieu, where it had lain for many eons while instinctively feeding and developing mindlessly. And now it was roused, though it knew nothing of its powers, nor was it aware of any wishes or desires.
It was just a lump of viscous material enclosed within a hard shell exoskeleton much like that of an oyster which was devoid of any emotion other than an overriding instinct to feed. It grasped with a sudden hitherto dormant cognizance, that its very existence had been in danger for a long time now as its once huge watery habitat was evaporating and diminishing. Its fully awakened faculties perceived that it must extricate itself from this environment or perish very soon.
The gelatinous lump of nearly pure plasma had existed in an ever receding pool of an ancient ocean that had been born at the dawn of terrestrial time. It had been created, as were others of its kind, by an accidental merging of two tiny, single-celled zygotes in the thick primordial soup of an inland sea. Other, similar matings, had grown and developed into creatures that crawled out of the oceans to evolve into all the myriad organisms that later inhabited the earth. They had all advanced quickly in comparison to the organism, which took many millions of years to progress into what it had now become—a cognizant life form immobile and encased within a hard shell that was similar in size and shape to the many types of edible shellfish that lived within its surroundings.
The group of semi-erect, shuffling-gated primates that waded through the pool of stinking water in the depths of the primeval forest dislodged the being from the ancient rock to which it was anchored. It floated to the surface and was pushed to the edge of the pool by the wavelets created by these waders. The last member in line of the crossing troupe, an aging male, glimpsed the plump morsel at the edge of the pool, grabbed it, and popped it into hits wide mouth, swallowing it whole since it had barely any teeth.
Once stripped of its outer shell by the digestive juices within the primate's stomach, the being, sensing its imminent demise unless it escaped from its eroding prison, quickly clung to one of the walls and climbed upward. Once away from this danger, it stopped moving and surveyed its new surroundings for a moment, discovering that it was resting over a pulsating tube that carried life-giving fluids through its host. Somehow, without any clear understanding of what it was or how it managed to do that, the being reshaped itself into a long thin strand that enabled it to breach the artery and let itself be carried by the moving bloodstream as it nourished itself.
The being ended its voyage in the upper reaches of the primate’s brain, where it embedded itself within an even more nourishing substance. Its needs were slight so it had no effect on the health of its host nor its mental capacity, such as it was. Once it became used to existing within this new environment, it began sending tiny tendrils into the living body that it had acquired, savoring its mobility and myriad corporeal senses.
Using its raw though highly instinctive intelligence, it quickly learned to adapt to its new surroundings and manner of living. After a while, when it realized that the body of its host had reached a weakened physical state and was about to expire, a dominant self preservation instinct found the means to spring into the nearest primate body in a great burst of energy. It took thousands of years of constantly moving from one dying primitive into the next for the creature to fully comprehend its true environment. As its intelligence expanded, the symbiotic parasite found that its position in the primitives' pack, always within the body of a lagging host, which had been a mindless process of duplicating its very first host’s type and position, may be hazardous to its existence.
It learned that its very first host, and the long succession of the new ones afterward, were all aging males who used to be dominant but had lost their position due to advanced age, who could barely keep up with the movements of the pack and were most likely to perish either by natural causes or as easy prey to predators. Once it understood this fact, it changed its mode of existence by entering the body of a young male, where it discovered that this type lived much longer than those it had used before. It also learned to like residing within a very young, vibrant body that afforded it a longer and more heightened ability to learn—an ever growing wish that it had acquired along the way.
The desire to learn, it quickly discovered, was greatly enhanced by these new type of hosts who maintained a constant close physical contact with other, stronger members of the group. The instinctive need to dominate the pack improved the being's mental and social learning curve and it was so delighted by its discovery that it began to acquire ever-stronger hosts until it reached the position of the Alpha male.
It remained in this position as the pack it belonged to kept advancing upward on the evolutionary ladder, taking great pleasure and benefiting from their ever increasing intelligence. Yet, in all the millennia's of its silent existence within the bodies of host after host, the being rarely took on any females unless it was forced by circumstances of survival—after which it quickly reverted to another male. For reasons it did not realize nor contemplate, its preferred mode of existence continued through from the primates to Homo-Sapiens, and up to modern man.
The being’s intellect and understanding of its powers grew faster once it began to possess human hosts as they wandered throughout their small, very limited world during countless generations. It remained in the background of its hosts, never interfering with their lives even after it finally learned that it possessed the capacity to do so. It enjoyed this obscure, vicarious existence of a parallel life without any intervention, and whenever a new host was found unsuitable for any reason, particularly when suffering from any serious physical disability, it switched to another quickly, never harming the discarded one. Over the ages, as its intelligence expanded, the being became ever more refined in dealing with its human environment, finally becoming just as human as its new hosts had become through their evolution and learning processes abilities.
Throughout most of its existence the entity, being highly curious once developed to such a stage, learned about all of its hosts' various driving forces and retained all of their memories, particularly so once it reached modern times.
Chapter One
Stanley Petersen returned from lunch at a famous restaurant in Washington DC, where many old friends had thrown him a retirement party that was to be culminated that evening at the Marine Barracks at Eighth and I Streets. It had been his practice for nearly fifty years to go to the Marine Barracks for the Friday Evening Retreat Parade whenever he was visiting or working in Washington DC, considering it a privilege to attend retreat parades while wearing his dress uniforms, rank insignia, and the chestfull of medals that he had won over the years on many fields of battle.
The weather had been bad all day as a morning drizzle changed to a heavy downpour and then turned into a storm by the time he reached Rockville, Maryland, where the small condominium apartment he had purchased ten years earlier was located. But suddenly, just as he pressed the remote button to the underground garage, the storm seemed to pass and the sun was peeking through its cloudy remnants.
Once at home, he took off the civilian clothes that he wore to his office at CIA headquarters in Langley, where he commanded the anti-terrorist division as an Assistant Director. He took out his freshly dry-cleaned uniforms from the closet and put them on the bed to attach the appropriate Marine major general insignia and paraphernalia before going to the bathroom for a shave and a shower.
He put on a terrycloth bathrobe afterward, sat in an armchair in front of the large window, and lit his once-weekly Cuban cigar that he was prohibited from smoking. He grinned to himself as he drew on the long, aromatic cigar with great pleasure, then let his mind wander and contemplate many of the important events of his life.
Having always dreamed of becoming a Marine in his youth, much like every male in his family for the past five generations, Stanley had applied for an admission to the Naval Academy in Annapolis just before graduating from high school. He was easily accepted because of his excellent grades, good physical shape which he had worked on diligently, and a nomination by his congressman from San Diego, California. He had entered into the Academy in 1945, just as World War II was winding down, and graduated in 1949 as a Marine second lieutenant.
He had spent the next year taking a variety of combat training courses, and once he finished the last one he was given a ten days liberty in his family home in San Diego. His vacation was short lived as two days later he was summoned to Camp Pendleton and was sent to Korea in command of a platoon when the North Koreans invaded the South.
Stanley did not mind giving up his vacation since going to war was the culmination of his military career training and, just as his father was quite eager to fight in Iwo Jima and excel in the last war, he eagerly followed in his footsteps. By the end of the conflict, Stanley reached the rank of captain with an outstanding record as company commander.
His advance in rank was nearly meteoric once the war in Vietnam began seriousely and from there he continued making a name for himself as an outstanding thinker and planner of complicated operations. So much so that three years before his mandatory retirement age he was seconded to the CIA where he served as a special adviser to the president on security and intelligence matters.
He remained a bachelor throughout his service years despite his mother's urgings to marry and give his parents grandchildren to enjoy in their last years, but he loved life as a bachelor without having any family obligations. It was a wise decision to have made, he told himself time and again, as during his career he constantly participated in dangerous activities and was away from home for months at a time. Until now, that is, he thought, when he was forced to retire as of Monday due to his advanced age and his deteriorating health.
Stanley's retirement, as he had always dreaded, did not cause him any undue distress because of a strange occurrence six months earlier when he discovered that, unbeknownst to him, he was the father of a daughter. He had felt quite shaken when he was approached by a young woman one day at his favorite restaurant, who asked him if she could join him at the table.
A bit taken aback by the gorgeous woman's request, Stanley still smiled. "Of course you can, but I wonder about the need to double up since the place restaurant isn't exactly full."
She smiled back as she sat down. "You'll understand in a moment, but just so that you don't think I got any malevolent designs on you, please take a look at this." She opened her purse and took out a card, which she handed him.
Stanley recognized it as an air force identification issued to a major Kimberly Sheppard, age thirty-one, and compared the picture to his uninvited guest before handing it back to her. "Okay, Major, you're not a floozy trying to ply your trade around here. So what's your reason anyway?"
"Nothing sinister, General, that's for sure. My reason for approaching you was that my mother had passed away two weeks ago and this is what I found amongst her papers when I cleaned up the house."
Stanley looked at the faded picture she handed him, and recognized the woman in it as someone that he had had a torrid but short affair with thirty-two years before. Her name came back to him immediately—Alma Sheppard from San Diego, California, whom he had met one evening while visiting his parents. He could easily see the resemblance between mother and daughter who, rather than having her mother's totally black skin and African facial features, Kimberly's skin was a light café-au-lait color and her hair and face looked Caucasian. It was a great combination, he thought, but the stunning sight was that the man in the picture with her was himself in his early forties.
"Oh, my God. You're Alma's daughter. No wonder you looked familiar to me at first glance."
Kimberly chuckled. "Could it be that what you actually saw was your own face stamped over mine?"
Stanley shrugged. "It's possible, but I'm not a geneticist to be sure of it."
"True, but take my word for it, General, your genes are firmly embedded in my flesh and blood."
"I can't deny it, nor would I for any reason. But how can you be so sure about it?"
"Two reasons. One is that Mom had left a written dying testament for me where she told me about her affair with you, which resulted in pregnancy."
"Why would she do that?"
"Because of how frustrated I had always been was about my heritage—too white to be accepted by my peers as one of them, and much too dark to be accepted by most white people. Now, the reason for having you impregnate her with me, if you're wondering about it, was that she and Dad loved each other very much but couldn't have any children. So, after she was told by her doctor that it was her husband's fault, she decided to have an affair with someone outside their community so that no one would ever be able to match it to a neighbor. So she waited until her cycle was right, until she found you to do the stud service on her."
"And she never anticipated that my genes would be that influential on you?"
"Right. But being of slave stock, her explanation to Dad and the entire family was that someone along their family tree had been tainted by their old slave master."
"Makes sense. And the second proof?"
"Oh, I'd stalked you for a while and retrieved your cigar stump after you smoked one in the park, and took it to a forensic lab to have your saliva analyzed and compared to mine."
"And the test came back positive, I's imagine. So how do you feel about having a white father, Kimberly?"
"At first I so upset that I was literally fuming, but after a couple of days it dawned on me that I should thank God for having been able to find my true father even at this stage in both of our lives. And it gave me peace. But what about you, General, how do you feel about finding that you've got a black daughter?"
Stanley, with sudden tears streaming from his eyes, put his hand on hers. "Daughter. Period."
Kimberly laughed and cried simultaneously. "Please call me Kim, Dad, as everyone else does."
Their relationship quickly became filled with great love, and she asked him to come visit her at Nellis Air Force base near Las Vegas, Nevada, to participate in a ceremony where she received medals for great heroism in Iraq, and promotion to lieutenant colonel. Afterward, she threw Stanley a big seventy-second birthday party while he wore his uniforms and his own rows of medals.
And she's coming over later tonight from her temporary assignment in Pensacola, he thought, to help me pack and remove my stuff from the apartment after which we'll take a long ride west in the car I bought her. I'll join Kim in Las Vegas to retire there for good, spending my time playing my favorite poker game—carefully, so I don't blow all my savings on it. Or maybe I'll get a part time job in a hotel security department. Gosh, I can hardly wait for that.
The captain of the Marine special detail rushed over to the reserved area and quickly removed the orange cone from it when he saw Stanley arrive, then opened his car door and saluted crisply as he stepped out. "Good evening, General. Nice to have you with us this evening."
"Thank you, Thomas."
Stanley had refused any dignitary honors other than the parking, and walked straight to the seating area while saluting constantly, and stood next it so he would not obstruct the view for any tourists. The parade began just as he arrived, and he saluted the Colors when they passed by him slowly as the tick-tock of the drums resonated through the parade grounds.
"Brings tears to your eyes, don't it, Stan?"
"Always did, Jimmy, from the first time I ever saw it."
"I was told you're here." The Commandant of Marines said. "So I came to say my goodbyes."
"Which I greatly appreciate."
They shook hands warmly, after which the Commandant left quickly so as not to be noticed by anyone.
A moment later, the the visitors' stand next to him burst into flames an incendiary bomb blew beneath it, and Marines from all over the field rushed to help the injured, Stanley amongst them. Twenty minutes later, as the last of the injured were pulled out of the burning wreckage, Stanley rested against the main building inspecting his charred uniforms and hands. Suddenly, he felt a twinge in his chest and them a literal thud in his chest that spread all around his body.
Shit, I just got the big one, he mumbled to himself just before losing consciousness and dropping to the ground.
Chapter Two
When Stanley woke up he was sure that he was lying in a hospital bed. It's amazing, he thought, that nothing hurts after what I'd just gone through, especially since the way I see it I should be dead. He remembered the exact moment he was hit by the heart attack which, even if it hadn't killed him, should hurt terribly regardless of any painkillers that he must have been given. Maybe, he thought, this is just the delusion of a dying old man and in just a minute I'll cease to exist. Yet, the smell that pervaded his nose was a mixture of disinfectants unique to hospitals, which contradicted his notion that he had been killed.
But that's nuts. How can I smell anything when I know that without a doubt however long ago it was, that I was hit by a massive heart attack that must have killed me instantly. So maybe what I'd always believed was nonsense about life after death wasn't really so and what I've become is a soul floating around waiting for the judgment of where I'm supposed to be going—up or down. But that's a bunch of crap because I can still feel my body and that it's lying in a bed. Is it possible that with all the ambulances around I was picked up fast enough to get to the hospital in time?
Deciding to unravel the mystery of whether he was dead or alive, Stanley opened his eyes slowly and was gratified to immediately find that indeed he was lying in a hospital bed, in a semi-private room in which he was the only occupant. His attention was drawn to the kindly looking old nurse who smiled when she saw that his eyes were open.
"Well, good morning to you. It looks like you've had a restful night after all of those tests that Dr. Stoner ran you through yesterday afternoon to make sure that everything is okay with you now that you were about to wake up." She came nearer after opening the blinds. "Why won't you to talk to me? Oh, that's really okay because after your terrible injury and being in a coma for two weeks anyone has the right to stay silent."
The only thing that makes sense so far, he thought, is what she'd said about getting hurt and being in the coma afterward. Then maybe I better ask her about everything else.
Before Stanley could say anything the door opened and a man in a white coat who apparently was Dr. Stoner walked in. Unlike the nurse, he did not speak as he pulled his hospital gown up and gave Stanley a meticulous exam after removing the feeding tubes from both his wrists. Once done with it, reached between Stanley's legs and pulled out a tube that he had not been aware of having until then, quickly realizing it was a catheter that drained his urine while incapacitated.
The doctor was about to address Stanley for the first time when the door suddenly opened, nearly knocking the nurse down as she was about to leave with the wheeled tripods. Kimberly apologized quickly before rushing over to Stanley's bed and hugging him tightly.
"Oh, Daddy, I just heard that you'd finally regained consciousness so I rushed over to see you." He was so overcome with emotions that he couldn't speak as Kimberly sat next to his bed, holding his hand. She turned to the doctor and held up a Styrofoam container. "Can I give the coffee to my dad?"
Dr. Stoner looked at them curiously for a moment before speaking. "I don't think it'll do him any harm so go ahead and hand it to him. And you should pull yourself up to a sitting position to have it, General. I'm glad that you're here, Colonel Sheppard because what I'm about to say concerns you as well, of course."
Kimberly grinned at him strangely. "Thanks, Doctor."
Stoner waited for Stanley to make himself comfortable and take a careful sip of his steaming coffee. "You seem to be in great shape, General, which is why I removed all the feeding tubes and catheter that were attached to you so you can start eating solids and go to the bathroom. So, since everything about you seems to be in order, I'd like us to have a serious chat if you are up to it."
"I sure am. In fact, I got so many questions for you in my head that it literally spins with confusion." The sound of his voice startled Stanley as it was not the same as it had always been.
The doctor seemed please to hear him speak. "Well, I'm glad that you finally decided to grace us with a vocal response."
Stanley gave him a rather hard look. "I despise silly hospital prattle, Dr. Stoner, so I'd appreciate it if you don't not use any with me."
"Just so you know, General, you're at Bethesda Naval Hospital and my own rank is captain. Navy captain, that is." Stoner informed him.
"Big fucking deal, Swabby." Stanley retorted.
Stoner chuckled. "I guess all the scuttlebutt about you being a real hardass Marine is quite true so I'll refrain from talking to you like to any of my other patients, but I need to ask you some simple questions. And better respond properly to your superior officer."
"If I remember correctly, a Marine general's rank trumps a navy captain's."
"Not here, it don't."
Stanley shrugged. "Okay, I'll accept your stilted logic for now so go ahead, Captain."
"Okay, General, are you aware of what had happened to you, and where it did?"
"Yes. I was on the Marine Barracks parade grounds, where I assume I'd suffered a massive heart attack right after helping pull out a bunch of injured people from the visitors stand after a bomb exploded right under it."
"You did. And the reason for the bomb was exploded there was that the President was scheduled to be there and an Al-Qaida operative set it up to kill him. He was later caught, by the way, and he and his entire cell was killed in a firefight."
"I'm glad to hear that. But why am I alive rather than being dead?"
"That would've happened to any normal human being, but you aren't one."
"What do you mean by saying that I'm not normal?"
"Sorry, General, I didn't mean it quite that way. What I should've said was that you're a very unique kind of person."
"In what way?"
"You'll understand everything once I finish explaining things to you. First, you need to know that when you were rushed over here everyone was quite certain that you were about to expire because all your vitals showed that you barely alive. So all we could do for you at that time was to make you comfortable until you expired."
"But I didn't. How come?"
"It was quite amazing, eerie actually, because the next morning when your attending physician at Emergency came to check you he found that not only didn't you expire but that you seemed to have recovered somewhat because your eyes suddenly opened and then you grabbed his hand with yours. I was told that the poor resident actually fainted as a result."
"I don't understand, Doctor. Didn't all the life support instruments that I was hooked up to tell him ahead of time that I was doing a lot better than it had been expected?"
"Please understand that your condition when you were brought in was hopeless so it was decided to let you die with dignity rather than hook you up to a bunch of devices to keep you functioning. So you were wheeled to a curtained bed away from the rest of the patients, of which we had too many to take care of after the Barracks' bombing."
"I was in full agreement with their decision, Dad, after looking at you the moment I'd arrived from Pensacola." Kimberly added.
"Well, General, that's when you were rushed over to the cardiac center where I'm in charge because I'm a cardiologist of great repute. I was astonished by your condition after examining you, which was still that you'll never survive, which was proven to be correct because you'd expired for real an hour later."
"So how come I'm still alive and seemingly well?"
"Because while signing your death certificate the man in the bed next to you, another Marine who had been flown from Iraq after he was had suffered a bad head injury as well as having bullet lodged in his hear. The neurologist had removed the bullet from his head but was quite doubtful that the man will be able to survive a long and complicated heart surgery, which I'd hoped to perform if his condition improved. Then, suddenly he began moaning, which he shouldn't have been able to, but he did and this time it was I who had nearly fainted. To make a long story short, when I walked into the room the next morning the man, Major Dan Evans, who was just about at death's door the day before, seemed to be on his way to complete recovery. Not only because his weak brainwaves seem to have become stronger but because the bullet that had been lodged in his heart simply popped out and didn't even leave a scar, I couldn't understand what caused his amazing reversal from near death to seemingly full health which by itself wasn't bad because unexplainable miracles do happen on occasion in my field."
"I'm confused, Doctor. What's that got to do with me, who had supposedly crapped out yet am sitting here in bed talking to you and my daughter while drinking coffee."
"What happened, you see, was that as I looked at him the captain's eyes opened and he demanded to know where he was. And when I tried to shut him up he treated me like I was dirt and told me that he outranked me by a bunch and that he'll kick my ass so hard that I'll fly out the window if he didn't get some quick answers."
"Very much like I would've done?"
"Exactly, Sir. Then, for a reason that escapes me now, I asked him for his name and rank, and nearly fainted again when he told me he was Major General Stanley Petersen before he fell back into a coma so I couldn't ask you to help me determine anything else. So my only path of investigation was to check all your medical records to see what I could find there that would point me to the right answers."
"And did you find any?"
"I sure did, and were totally amazed by it. And so, by the way, was Kimberly who was willing to join me in the search."
"And what did you find?"
"It's quite complicated, so we must go back in time to your first tour in Vietnam. D'you remember how seriously you were injured when your helicopter crashed?"
"Yes, of course, together with my pilot, but luckily I was evacuated minutes later to the hospital ship and revived and taken care of while poor Henry died from his wounds."
"It wasn't quite that simple. When they brought you in you were barely alive, yet you seemed to recover quickly just moments your pilot died."
"Kind of a reverse of what had happened here?"
"Very astute observation. Yes, just about. And then, a week later, after you'd insisted vociferously that you were fine and that you should be returned to your outfit, the doctor who had originally took care of you required that you take a battery of before he released you."
"Which he took and then let be go a day later. What's the relevance here?"
"The fact that your IQ test came out kind of strange, showing that it was nearly at the two-hundred point while your file stated that your IQ was one-forty-five."
"So that's why the bastard had me retake it."
"Exactly. And he must've shit his pants when he found out because between the two tests your IQ had risen another fifty points and he was sure that at that rate it would climb up beyond even that. Which meant that for whatever reason your head injury had turned you from a simple genius into a veritable superman."
"I never knew that or ever cared about my IQ. Okay, let's assume that it was or is, what's it got to do with what happened here?"
"What Kim and I had figured out was that it must've given you some very unique physical capability that had allowed your mind to skip from a totally ruined old body into one that was much younger and therefore sturdier, and most importantly not yet dead."
"A kind of a real superman? Holly shit, that explains a bunch of other crazy things that happened after my Vietnam injuries."
"Such as?"
Two weeks after his discharge from the hospital, Stanley had began to notice that his mind was keener and that his mental abilities exceptionally penetrating than ever before. Complex problems that in the past took him a few days or weeks to unravel suddenly appeared simple enough to tackle in just hours, and his memory became able of instant recall of the minutest details of things that had occurred far in his past. Also, instead of reading normally, he began scanning written materials, retaining all details instantly. As a result he become legendary in his profession which amazed every one of his commanders and associates. Yet, he never questioned the dramatic changes in his abilities and viewed them as a natural progression of maturing.
"So you see, it's been in my head all along, hidden even from me that I can pull such a stunt as skipping from body to body to same my ethereal ass. Okay, so now we know how I'd ended up as this young Major Evans."
They fell silent for a moment until Stanley spoke again. "So what happens next."
"I think we should delay talking about it until later so that you'll have time to digest everything you'd heard so far. And, most of all, get used to the person you've become both mentally and physically. As for right now, I'm sure that by now you probably need to use the bathroom and take a shower before Patty gets here shortly with your lunch so I'll let you eat it peace. Besides, I got a few important things to take care of right now so I better be off for a while."
"Okay, I guess I better use the bathroom next."
"But be careful when you get up because you might get dizzy after spending so long in bed."
"I'll keep an eye on him when he gets up." Kimberly promised.
Chapter Three
Stanley was relieved not to need Kimberly's support when he got out of bed, though he did so slowly and carefully, reaching the small bathroom without mishap. When he took the hospital gown off, though, he was quite startled when he saw in the mirror not himself but a total stranger. It was the first time that the impact of the switch between himself and Major Dan Evans truly hit him when he saw the reflection of the young, handsome, and quite tall.
Hell, he thought, he's really a big guy at probably six-four while I was barely five-eight. Oh, athletically built but I never had a body that looked like its every muscle stuck out through my skin. And boy, is he ever a young one. Well, I guess I better start thinking of myself as Dan from now on.
When he stepped out of the bathroom, feeling quite refreshed and relaxed despite his strange experience, Kimberly handed him clean underwear and pointed at the bed where she had laid out jeans, a sweatshirt, socks, and sneakers to wear you're no longer bedridden, and maybe the good doctor will even let you go home later this afternoon."
"I hope so. And thanks for the clothes because I hate this gown with my butt sticking out in the back."
"And a cute one it is, I got to tell you. Anyway, go back to the bathroom and get dressed."
"With pleasure."
He was back in the room five minutes later, looking very happy to be dressed. "Gosh it feels good to look human again. But where did you get these clothes?"