together, Paula. And after hearing all I've told you so far, I hope you're getting close to asking yourself the most disturbing question of all. Which is, how did the man you're living with steal my body? Unfortunately, I don't have an answer. I don't have a clue. The only thing I can think of is: Black Magic or mysterious powers. Both sound preposterous. All I know for certain is I was laid up in the hospital bed after my automobile accident and this old man, you see before you, came into my room. He leaned over me, held my hands and pressed his forehead to mine. Since I had been sedated, I couldn't resist. Besides, I thought he was a medical technician or an aide because he wore a white lab coat. Then, a 'Flash' occurred and I found myself looking at my own body still lying on the bed. At first, thought I died and my spirit had departed and was floating around the room as in the movies. Then to my horror, I came to realize I was still alive but my mind wasn't where it belonged. It had somehow transferred and become trapped inside this!" thumping his fist on his chest. "He switched bodies on me. More than that, he stole my youth... and my life with you! I flipped out and the next thing I knew I was being led away by the hospital's security guards, who in turn, called the local police. I spent the next six months in a state mental hospital. The psychoanalysts said I was delusional. Hell, I was far, far beyond delusional! Inside, I knew who I was but didn't have any idea of who or what this perpetrator was. Or even what he called himself! So there I lie, locked and bound securely on a padded observation cell floor, 'for my own protection', and classified as a 'John Doe'. Another nut case. Finally, after dozens of evaluations, I learned how to play along. I convinced the state doctors I wasn't going to become a threat to anyone and they relocated me to a nursing home because of my failing health. A secure, state-run nursing home, where I was left to die or go truly insane. Luckily, after three months I managed to escape by hiding in an outgoing laundry cart. Boy, was that a bitch. I remembered the trick from a movie we saw at your mother's house when we were dating. That was the night I proposed to you. Do you remember?"
She nodded, "Yes," completely dumfounded.
"While in my captivity, I had plenty of time to think. I figured since I was incarcerated and out of his way he had most likely assumed my life. And since I didn't know anything about him, he probably didn't know anything about me either. Therefore if I came home, I thought I had a chance of proving my real identity to you... in person. Do you understand? I felt I could accomplish this by demonstrating my knowledge of our past life... versus, his not knowing a damn thing about us and our precious times together. Paula, I'm sorry to put you through this. I know your brain must be spinning but I'm running out of time. Please help me convince you! Drill me, just like I used to do with you when I helped you prepare for your night school exams. Fire away! Ask me questions, any question about our past... the more personal and intimate the better."
She did..., even throwing in some trick questions, just to be certain... and her soul felt crushed by the damning truth facing her. With tears in her eyes she embraced the emancipated, frail, lost love of her life. "Oh, David, my poor, David. How could this have happened? What can we do?"
He peered deep into her eyes, "Paula, you know I've always been a man of action. I came here for two reasons. First, and foremost, to convince you of what's happened. And secondly, to get my body back. This one is dying." Raising his arms toward the ceiling, "Look at this wretched thing! I almost bought the farm last winter with a bout of pneumonia." He remembered the suffering he endured and the warm kindness he received from the other 'residents' in his time of need and said in a hushed, respectful tone, "I never realized how hard the winter is on the elderly."
They heard a car pull into the driveway. It snapped him back to bitter reality.
"He's here! What do we do, David?"
"Ouch," he said as he painfully rose from the couch. "Wipe your tears away and try to act normal. Do you still have the gun on the top shelf of the bedroom closet?"
"I think so." She stayed his arm. "I don't want anyone to get hurt."
"Me either. I just want him to give me my life back. Our life."
"Maybe, I should call the police," she suggested.
"No! They'll lock me away. It would be a death sentence. He'd see to that. I'm sure he thought he'd never see me again or he would have killed me in the hospital. This is the only way," and shuffled toward the bedroom.
A minute later, 'David' came through the front door declaring, "Hey, I noticed the flower pot has been moved and the key is missing. Do you have it?" while giving her a perfunctory peck on the cheek.
She stuttered, "Er, yes... I locked myself out."
"Okay. Let's make sure we put it back. Now, what's for dinner?" He turned toward the bedroom to go change clothes and then halted in mid-step. There stood a pathetic-looking, hoary, old man in the hallway pointing a thirty-eight caliber revolver at him!
"Hello, David. Remember me?" crackled the intruder. "Walk back into the living room, whoever you are. Whatever you are. We have some talking to do... and one really big-time magic trick. You son of a bitch," he rasped.
"Take it easy, old timer," returned the 'young' David as he raised his hands and backed-up to the fireplace. He shot Paula an accusing look, "What's going on here?"
She stammered, "He told me how you stole... er, swapped bodies while you and he were in the hospital." She appeared pensive for a moment then charged, "You know it all makes sense now. The strange way you've been acting since the car accident. You didn't exhibit symptoms of amnesia at the hospital when you should have. Your memory seemed fine, up until you saw the old man that night. By the time I returned the next morning you had somehow convinced or tricked the doctor into thinking you had developed a latent, temporary amnesia. Not dangerous, so he released you into my care."
"Now, wait a minute here! That's just not true," countered the 'young' David. "I really had amnesia and my memory is still slowly coming back to me. This is crap. Listen to yourself! What you're saying is absolutely ridiculous. Insane. We swapped bodies? Is that what this wacko told you? Paula, come on! That's the raving of a senile, old man who should be locked up in an institution!"
"And, I was, thanks to you... and I almost died," croaked the 'old' David. "I have no intention of going back. No sir. We're going to correct this situation right here and now"
The young man sneered and challenged, "Or what?" He then made a major slip of the tongue, "Are you going to shoot your own body?" Realizing his error, he jerked his head toward Paula who gasped and drew back another step. "Paula, I..."
It was too late to explain his way out. "It's true!" she screamed. "You horrible creature! What did you do with my David?"
The 'young' David looked at the two of them with undisguised contempt. "What did I do?" and laughed. "Stupid cow! I needed a new body. Mine was used up and his became available so I took it."
Paula reflected shock, fear and revulsion. She whispered, "Now I know why you never showed me any true affection. You couldn't because you really didn't love me. You didn't even have the capacity to pretend."
"Love and affection?" he retorted. "A waste of time." He spat on the floor in disgust. "I knew I should have chosen a single man; it's always less complicated. My real mistake was I waited too long, became ill, and had to take what I could get. I won't put myself in that damned position again. Women today are too troublesome. Life was better in the 'olden days'. They were basically... slaves," and smiled to himself.
"Again? Olden days?" repeated Paula.
"Of course. You don't think you are the first do you? Fools! I've had a hundred bodies."
"Who in the Hell are you?" growled the 'old' David.
Proudly he proclaimed, "My name is Garawn. I was a Celtic, Druid priest over three thousand years ago. Morrigan, the war goddess of what you now call England, bestowed this 'gift' upon me as a boon." Smirking, "You might say we had an intense, 'very close' relationship."
"You are immortal?" marveled the real David.
"No, I can die," answ
ered Garawn. "However to continue existence, I have to be very careful. Such as avoiding accidents or becoming involved in warfare. You know, anything which could unexpectedly terminate my host. And during the normal passage of time when my body becomes aged, diseased or injured, I would just take another." He snickered, "I don't travel around much or take any chances; it's too dangerous. Actually, I'm a pretty dull guy."
"So you simply just take another when you feel the time is right, huh?" barked the real David. "Well, I got news for you, Mister Garawn, ex-Druid priest. This is the end of the line. And, going back to your question, Yes, I will kill my own body rather than let you have it! Choose now, monster. Transfer me back or die where you stand!"
Garawn stood fast, calculating; his eyes darted back and forth at his captors. A serpent's black tongue flickered forth from the imposter's mouth, licking its lips. Finally, slowly, he hissed, "You win, David Johnson. I shall reverse the process."
The demon was displeased by this setback but didn't feel threatened. He intended to steal another body as soon as he left these two and return later to kill them both.
On the other hand, the real David had resolved to himself it was his duty to mankind to kill the monster immediately after the transfer and end this timeless horror.
"What do I