(c) Maffboy | Dreamstime.com
October 8, 2014
PURE WHITE
The
next day, Sheile was ready for her walk with Dr. Joe.
She
bounced on her toes- snug in running shoes, wearing clothes
appropriate for outdoor activities.
Sheile
had also been fitted with a few wireless monitoring patches.
As he
came down the path, Sheile noticed that the doctor was dressed
likewise, only adding his white lab coat and a small Medkit. She
snickered at this addition. With the pace they'd set- it wouldn't
stay white for long!
The
two exchanged smiles as they greeted one another. “Good morning,
Sheile.” “Morning, Doc! Ready to eat dirt?” she asked,
surprisingly playful. It must be her good mood. The doctor laughed at
this. “You may be surprised. I'm not half bad.” he responded
wryly. Her eyes danced, “We'll see how good you are soon enough.
After all, the proof is in the pudding!”
As they started off, Joe ask, “Out
of curiosity, what kind of
pudding are we talking about? Will there be a prize...for the loser?”
he teased, comfortable. His long legs ate up the feet like a ravished
wolf pack. Sheile picked up her pace. “I don't know,” she
responded, beginning to breath a little heavier. “Ummm, maybe
chocolate? Do you like chocolate, Doc?” “Do you?” “I'm
not going to lose!” She
sounded, a competitive note in her voice. “Ha!” He picked up his
already quick pace. So did Sheile, now struggling to keep up.
Her body panged with regret. He's so Skinny. How can this man be so fast?! She began puffing. Doc had moved a few feet ahead of her. Now he took Sheile's small hand in his own paw and lightly dragged her along. “Come on!” he coached, “You can do it...slow poke!” A grin lit Dr. Joe's face. Sheile growled and forced her feet to take smaller, quick steps. Gradually, she was in step with the doctor again. Her face was flushed from exertion, heart beating rapidly. The cool morning air felt good on Sheile's warm cheeks. It tasted sweet in her lungs. With her left hand in the doctor's opposite, the other swung freely, dangling at her side. Her exposed skin began to tinkle against the chill that passed along her arm as they sped along. Doc's large, warm hand enveloped Sheile's. Her arms were now as cold as the light breeze they created walking. The pit of Sheile's elbow began to burn against the constant chilling assault.
She let go of his hand, keeping up for the moment, simultaneously wrapping the pit of her elbow in her recently warmed fingers. Doc slowed down, coming to a stop. “Let me see that,” he said, holding out his hand to examine Sheile's arm. She reluctantly gave it to him.
He glanced down before looking up to find a perch for them to rest on. A bench lay five feet down the trail. “Let's go.” he said, jestering. He escorted Sheile gently to the seat by the crook of her elbow. Dr. Joe had Sheile sit down as he kneeled before her. The scene would have been comical if Sheile's arm hadn't bothered her. He turned it over, running a finger along the pained area, rubbing some with his thumb. The contrasting sensations of warm and cold startled Sheile. She relaxed after a moment. “Does that hurt?” he said, focused.
The irritation was fading as the doctor probed her arm, massaging. “...no. It's getting better.” she said, meekly. He looked up, smiling. “Good!” The doctor lay her arm in Sheile's lap and turned to sit down beside her. There was just enough room for the two of them. Sheile, a proper girl, wasn't sure if she should pull away or lean close against his strong body in the pale morning light. That had become apparent during their jog. It had not been a walk. Not the way he walked! Birds twittered. Scattered creatures called out among the trees. She signed, content.
Practicality won out, along with complacency. She leaned her head against the doctor's shoulder. Tried to. It was too high up. She settled for his chest. Slightly inappropriate for their short acquaintance and professional relationship, but neither cared. It was peaceful. The two relaxed after their intense walk. She still wouldn't call it a walk, but what else could be said?
Her body panged with regret. He's so Skinny. How can this man be so fast?! She began puffing. Doc had moved a few feet ahead of her. Now he took Sheile's small hand in his own paw and lightly dragged her along. “Come on!” he coached, “You can do it...slow poke!” A grin lit Dr. Joe's face. Sheile growled and forced her feet to take smaller, quick steps. Gradually, she was in step with the doctor again. Her face was flushed from exertion, heart beating rapidly. The cool morning air felt good on Sheile's warm cheeks. It tasted sweet in her lungs. With her left hand in the doctor's opposite, the other swung freely, dangling at her side. Her exposed skin began to tinkle against the chill that passed along her arm as they sped along. Doc's large, warm hand enveloped Sheile's. Her arms were now as cold as the light breeze they created walking. The pit of Sheile's elbow began to burn against the constant chilling assault.
She let go of his hand, keeping up for the moment, simultaneously wrapping the pit of her elbow in her recently warmed fingers. Doc slowed down, coming to a stop. “Let me see that,” he said, holding out his hand to examine Sheile's arm. She reluctantly gave it to him.
He glanced down before looking up to find a perch for them to rest on. A bench lay five feet down the trail. “Let's go.” he said, jestering. He escorted Sheile gently to the seat by the crook of her elbow. Dr. Joe had Sheile sit down as he kneeled before her. The scene would have been comical if Sheile's arm hadn't bothered her. He turned it over, running a finger along the pained area, rubbing some with his thumb. The contrasting sensations of warm and cold startled Sheile. She relaxed after a moment. “Does that hurt?” he said, focused.
The irritation was fading as the doctor probed her arm, massaging. “...no. It's getting better.” she said, meekly. He looked up, smiling. “Good!” The doctor lay her arm in Sheile's lap and turned to sit down beside her. There was just enough room for the two of them. Sheile, a proper girl, wasn't sure if she should pull away or lean close against his strong body in the pale morning light. That had become apparent during their jog. It had not been a walk. Not the way he walked! Birds twittered. Scattered creatures called out among the trees. She signed, content.
Practicality won out, along with complacency. She leaned her head against the doctor's shoulder. Tried to. It was too high up. She settled for his chest. Slightly inappropriate for their short acquaintance and professional relationship, but neither cared. It was peaceful. The two relaxed after their intense walk. She still wouldn't call it a walk, but what else could be said?
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