I’ve been shot. I’m in pain. I’m bleeding. I’m woozy from the loss of blood. And Charlie’s tourniquet disappeared with him.
I’m just a dream, I keep thinking. It’s okay if I die!
But it’s not. I don’t want to die here. I feel just like I did in the waking world. I am Walter Shelley! I don’t feel like a dream. I don’t feel like a made-up thing, like dragons, or space pirates. I feel like myself.
I will die at some point, and that is all right. I do not think there is anything after death, and I am not scared of death. But I don’t want to die, not yet. I don’t want it to end here. I have a few more years to live, I am sure, to enjoy my life with Suzy, and this new life with Justin and my new granddaughter. And with myself. I like being in my own head.
There is absolutely no noise from outside the tunnel. Whatever Master Mind is doing or whatever Joy is going through, the noise doesn’t reach the tunnel.
I unbutton my shirt and try to take it off. But the jetpack is still on my back and I can see now that the pain in my shoulder would hurt too much if I took off my shirt.
Think of a solution, Walt!
Well, it’s obvious. I take off my shoes by kicking them off.
I unbutton my pants and undo the belt with one hand. I take them off by kicking them down my legs. No need to use my hands.
Still bleeding. Come on, be fast, but keep your heart rate down. Don’t panic.
They’re off. Now the hard part.
Even as my legs on the tunnel floor feel the sliminess of the tunnel - though it isn’t sticky, it’s just slimy - I ignore that feeling and take the pant leg with one hand and wrap it around my bleeding shoulder.
It’s hard to do it with one hand, and I can feel my age now. I’m not as young, the body doesn’t comply, and my wooziness grows with every minute.
But I have to. So I’ll do it.
There. Wrapped three times. I step on the second pant leg, and rise to my feet holding the first pant leg. This tightens the pant leg around the wound, making it a tourniquet again.
Thank goodness. I lie back down. All right. Breathe. Take it easy. What you need now is time to heal, and to wait for a Dreamer who can maybe help seal the wound and make sure the bullet is out.
I look at the far side of the tunnel. No Dreamer has returned, not Justin, not Madelyn, and not Charlie. Master Mind was right.
I look at this side of the tunnel. No Joy and no Master Mind.
This is a disaster. I hope it doesn’t turn out to be a tragedy. Joy has to make it back!
(To be continued…)
—Told by Grampa Walt