| HOG TOWN FOUR By Paul Corman |
One by one the men and women in line shuffled forward towards the nurse's station. Some of the patients muttered to themselves, cussing at unseen demons and admonishing departed loved ones. Others shambled along with their heads down taking an early morning toe count. As each patient appeared before her, the duty nurse checked their wristband and handed them two paper cups-one with pills and another with water. She watched them swallow their medication and checked them off the list. One old guy, with a red nose, kept glancing at his watch. He turned to the young man with the long blonde hair, standing behind him. "What they get you for?" he asked the new guy. "I'm a space alien come to earth to save humanity from themselves." "No kidding. That's got to be tough work. See that guy over there wearing the sheet. That's Jesus Christ Almighty. You and him'd have lots in common." The guy with the red nose looked down at his watch. "Hold on a second Space Guy," he said. He pulled a large neatly folded red handkerchief from his pocket and sneezed into it. "Sorry," he said folding the handkerchief up and putting it back in his pants pocket. "My name's Sneeze." He offered his hand. "I guess you can call me Space Guy," the new guy said. "Don't think I ever met a space guy before. Makes me kind of jealous. All I got is this neurotic compulsion to sneeze every 30 seconds. Ain't nowhere near as glamorous as being God or saving the planet. Well we all do what we can." Sneezer pulled up his shirtsleeve and looked at his watch. "Scuse me. It's time again." He took out his handkerchief opened it up and sneezed into it. "Jeeze I wish all I had was being a space man. This sneezing is driving me nuts." Sneeze showed Space Guy the ropes. He pointed out the big guy who always bullied the new patients. "Tell him his mom said to leave you alone, and he will. And watch the meat loaf they give you for lunch on Wednesdays, unless of course you want to spend the afternoon on the can." "I don't eat dead animals," Space Guy said. "Good idea. Keep you out of a lot of trouble in a place like this. See the guy with the red shirt. Ate his own arm when he got lost in the woods. I'm against that sort of thing." In the afternoon Space Guy had an interview with Dr Dick the head shrink. The big black orderly named Stanley took him up in the elevator. Stanley rubbed his temples and squeezed his eyes shut as the elevator door closed and started to rise. "Headache?" Space Guy asked. "Don't know what it is. Everytime I go up to the sixth floor my head starts throbbing right here between my eyes." "It's your sinuses," Space Guy said. "Massage them like this." Space Guy said using the thumb and first finger to apply pressure on either side of the bridge of his nose. Stanley tried it. His ears popped and the pain stopped. "Wow man, that's OK. It worked. Where you learn something like that?" "On my planet the air pressure can change without notice depending on the pull of the moon and fluctuations in the atmosphere caused by too much thinking on any particular continent." Stanley looked at the new guy and scowled. "Sorry I asked." The office of Dr Dick, the head shrink, was spotlessly clean. His books were lined up carefully, in alphabetical order. The Doctor wore a crisp white shirt and perfectly ironed suit. The few items on his desk were arranged in neat rows. He studied his notes as Space Guy stood in front of him. "Sit down, ah Mr�." Dr Dick hesitated as he looked down at his file searching for a name. "They call me Space Guy." "Right the guy they found up in the arctic. The one from another planet. Why don't you tell me about that." "I was sent by the supreme council of the planet Zigonon, to guide human beings through a very difficult time in their history. Humans have the technology to destroy Earth. Since humans originally came from Zigonon we have a deep interest in your well being. Anyway, my mother ship dropped me off in a VW Van, back in 1966. I guess there was a problem with coordinates because I ended up inside a glacier. " "All I have here in your file is a note that says the RCMP think you're in the country illegally. The rest is sealed under a national security certificate. Have you been involved in any sort of terrorist activities? Is that what this story is all about? Because frankly I don't believe a word of it." "They're out of order." Space Guy said. "Who's out of order?" "Your books there," he said pointing to a bookshelf behind the doctor. "Fastburg's, 'Compulsive Behavior' should be in front of Fisher's 'Patterns in Neurotic Obsessive Personalities'. "The doctor turned and looked. "My god!" he said leaping up to rearrange the books. "Those student interns. Can't put anything back where they get it from!" Space Guy picked up the magazine sitting on the edge of the doctor's desk and fanned the pages. "Please don't touch that," Dr Dick said taking back the magazine and placing it carefully on the desk so it was square against the corner. "Good article in there about compulsive behavior," Space Guy said. "How do you know that?" "I just read it." "No one could read that quickly." "Sure. Compulsive behavior among teenage psychiatric patients. Pages 34 to 38 and continued on page 51. Written by Dr P. Fester, Professor of Abnormal Psychology, University of Edinburgh. He explains the relationship between compulsive behavior and early childhood weaning. He puts forward a very strong argument although I think he's a bit weak on clinical proof. His behavior modification strategy, though, is strictly 60's, Skinner dog training stuff." For the next hour Dr Dick and Space Guy discussed the articles in the journal. Space Guy gave the doctor many useful pointers which helped the doctor decrease substantially the amount of time he spent in nonproductive psychoneurotic activities. The doctor will publish some of his findings in the leading Journals and will receive a substantial grant to carry on studies that will eventually lead to a Nobel Prize. In his memoirs the doctor will credit a patient named the Space Guy for the insights that led to his groundbreaking research. The ridicule he receives from the disclosure will reactivate the doctor's compulsive behavior and he will end his days in the Sunnybrook Home for Troubled Psychiatrists. His life will be the inspiration for a reality TV series in which cast members pretend they are space aliens and compete to see how many members of the public they can convince during each episode. The winner receives an original 1962 VW camper van and a lifetime membership to the Snow Bird Camp Ground just outside Pensacola Florida. Over the next two weeks, Space Guy makes several calls to his lawyer Eldridge Lunt in Ottawa. He leaves messages that are quickly erased by government agency that surreptitiously monitor citizen's telecommunications. |
| THEY CAME FROM OUTER SPACE |
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