YOU CAN GO HOME AGAIN

ALONE CALEB BAKER WAS sitting on his favorite chair and the new television was turned on but, he was unable to relax. He was bored and he was sad. It had been over two long years since his wife had passed on 11SEP10, a victim of ovarian cancer for the best part of twenty years. At the end of the day, her tumor had spread to other parts of her body and, suddenly, she was gone. Her death was a horrible and painful one to witness. She was not the same person that she used to be, not even close. Dorothy had been transformed into a minor fraction of the beautiful woman that she had been. The hospice was very kind and respectful but, injecting her with morphine every few minutes, is not living but, instead, it’s sort of like floating between this World and the next. One minute here and the next minute at some other place. I will never forgive the Henderson Hospital for the treatment that my wife received. Their regimen for her was to use one of the Statin Family of drugs to cure her problem. The Food and Drug Administration has since recalled the drug that she used with the official state-ment of “It does more harm than good.” In brief, they were using my wife as a Guiana pig and I shall never forgive them for that decision. Neither Medicare nor her personal insurance would pay for that treatment and I can’t blame them for that. They said that we won’t pay because you killed Mrs. Baker. But, now they want me to pay for something that my normal coverage will not cover and those hospital invoices amount to more than I can afford. What a dilemma I’m in. So what I really need is to disappear for a while but, where could I go and how would I hide from that pester-ing collection agency? I called my best friend from Ha-zard High School, Mayor Ray Henry, to ask him if there was any way that he could find me some cash-only employment in Eastern Kentucky. I told him why and his answer was, “You need some-where to hide from those money-hungry pirates at Henderson Hospital and I’ve got just the place for you. You can go home again. I have a Forensic Laboratory that you can run. It is fully staffed and it comes with all the major electronic toys and miscellaneous equipment, one of everything and two of most. Are you interested?” I thanked him for his friendship and I told him that my bags could be quickly packed. I would leave the Houston area during the early morning hours. And, was I ever the happy one, I can go home again. And, I did exactly that. The trip to Hazard from Houston was roughly 1080-miles and I enjoyed every moment of the journey. Sud-denly, the grass was greener and the trees were never more beautiful. I had not felt this good since I had recov-ered from my heart surgery back in the 1970’s. I was free and clear of all those invoices which I could not pay. The hoods at Henderson Hospital could search all they want but they would never find me, not in Hazard. That’s a place where large waves of earth grow dense forests that can shield hundreds of men if they want to be shielded. I am reminded of all the stories about draft dodgers of World War II that still live on and around those hills of Hazard Town. Originally, they came to us in swarms from Ohio.