Second Nature

Chapter 48

48 

 Hank Townsend had gathered quite a crowd. The group had spilled out of Kinky's Bar & Grill and onto the crushed shell parking lot, and people were still coming. Must've been fifty people or better gave him their rapt attention. 

"Well, some of ya'll know about the cancer was on my face." He pointed to his left cheekbone. "Right here, it was. Looked kind of like a splotchy, dark red-and-brown mole. I also had it in my lungs, real bad. Doctors over at Tallahassee give me three months or less to live. Hell, I never even bothered to quit smoking. Been hanging out on my boat, mostly just waiting to die. I wasn't planning on ending up in no hospital. Had me a gun. Figured I'd use it when things got real painful and all." 

"Get to the point, Hank. Tell 'em about the dog." 

"Well, Lana and Cade had them a dog, up at the inn. Tripod. Three legs. Most of ya'll seen it," he said. "Folks, that dog now has four legs. He grew hisself a new leg." 

The crowd tittered and someone said, "What you been drinking, Hank? Lighter fluid?" 

Hank grinned. "All right, ya'll know I did drink. Modestly." That brought a good laugh. "But you can see my skin cancer is gone." He tapped his cheek. "Two weeks ago, I drove back over to Tallahassee; docs say there ain't no more cancer in me at all. My lungs is as clear now as if I never smoked my first Camel." 

The crowd murmured. "C'mon. Get real." 

"It's true. How many ya'll seen the top half my thumb was missin'? Whacked it off years ago shucking an oyster. Danny, you seen the stump. Billy, you seen it, too." He held up his right hand. The thumb was intact. 

"Christ almighty," Billy said. "How'd you do that?" 

"I don't know," Hank said. "It was the dog. I caught something from being around the dog. A virus, like. Makes you kind of buzz and tingle. But a good virus. It healed me up, total." Hank laughed. "But, man, you ain't seen nothing." His eyes swept the familiar faces. "Lana Seaborne has grown new legs!" 

The crowd murmured loudly. Someone called out, "Bullshit."  

"Now that I'd like to see up close," Randy Freers said, and his wife punched his arm hard. 

"You folks aren't taking me seriously," Hank said, "and I don't blame you one little bit. We're talking about a miracle, and that you got to see for your ownself." 

"Show 'em, Hank," Tammy Lopez said. "Show 'em what you showed me, how your cuts can heal and all." 

He shook his head. "I can't, Tammy. The virus ain't working no more inside me. I need to get me a new dose." 

"Yeah, sure," someone said. "Old fart." A few turned to walk away. 

"You caught a dose, all right." That drew another laugh. 

"Hang on," Billy said, "I want to hear what you're talking about, Tammy." 

"Hank, show 'em," she said.  

Hank took out a Buck folding knife from his pants pocket and opened the larger blade. "Look, a few weeks ago, even I couldn't believe what was happening to me. So to prove to myself I wasn't going crazy, I jabbed this blade right into my thigh." 

"I saw him do it," Tammy said. "I screamed. The blood squirted like a fountain." 

"And yeah, that sumbitch hurt like hell," Hank said, "but real quick, the pain faded away and it stopped bleeding. Tingled, itched like crazy, same as when my finger grew back. I just kept staring at my leg, real close." 

"I saw the whole thing," Tammy said, leaving the crowd to stand beside Hank. "The wound just closed up. You know, like a film run in reverse. When Hank wiped off the blood, there wasn't even a scar." 

Kinky Taylor, the gray-haired black woman who owned the bar said, "Tammy, you're the only person I know drinks as much as Hank. Pardon my French, but you expect us to believe two drunks?" 

"When was the last time either of us was here, in your bar?" 

Kinky shrugged. "Two, three weeks ago?" 

"And did you see either of us take a drink tonight?" Tammy said. 

"Hmm." Kinky frowned. "Can't say that I did." 

Tammy smiled, showing two gold teeth. "Well, I can't show y'all a finger that grew back, or no cancer that cleared up, but I swear on a stack of bibles, I ain't had a drink in nearly three weeks. I'm not an alkie no more. The virus healed me, too." 

The crowd erupted into chatter. From its edges, more people joined the group, pressing in to see what the fuss was about. 

Hank recounted his miracle healing until twilight had turned the white sand mauve. "I'm walking on over to Cool Bay Inn now," he said. "Ya'll come with me and ya'll will see Llana's new legs, and ya'll will see what I been talking about." 

Everyone cheered. "Let's go." 

The crowd moved off along the shore like a single creature, with Hank Townsend as its head and more than a hundred legs providing thrust.