Chapter 32, Blog 4
By Chuck Wells As Told To Ray Hochgesang
Per Harry’s instructions, I called Nicky, who worked at the Valparaiso YMCA. Could I use the whirlpool this afternoon, maybe sleep in it for a couple of days?
No problem, said Nicky, provided I would autograph a “few” items for the Y’s annual fundraising auction. Meanwhile, Harry tugged the overstuffed easy chair into the middle of the living room and ordered me to sit. Those witch doctor eyes of his began to whirl. He always got that look whenever he tried a new casserole with a complicated recipe.
“Concentrate,” he said in a low monotone. “Close your eyes and summon forth every fiber of your well-being.”
I smelled orangey incense wafting through the air.
“What IS that stench?”
“SILENCE!” Harry commanded. “Close your eyes!”
Without his walker, Harry ambled around my chair, once, twice, three times.
“Meditate,” he said. “Meditate as if your lily-white life depended upon it. And concentrate. Concentrate as if it were your last breath.”
A smile slipped out – as if I could do this with a straight face.
“I saw that,” said Harry. “Forget it. Forget it.”
“No, no, please,” I begged. “I’ll try harder. Please, go on.”
“You think THIS is funny?”
“No, of course not.”
“I do not have to put up with any of this shit,” said my coach. “I can walk out that door right now and never look back.”
A cold shudder curled down my spine. Studying Harry these past months, I knew he was serious. It was no bluff. Sucking a deep breath, I resolved to try my best. I focused on the dull pain in my legs. That helped.
“All right, I’m ready.”
“Then close your eyes!” he said.
“Target. Target every cell in that miserable wreck of a Baby Boomer body. Will it. WILL every cell to heal.”
“You’re scaring me …”
“CHANT!” Harry shouted. “HEAL!”
“Heal. Heal. Heeeaaalll …”
I chanted as long as I could, possibly five minutes.
“Heal. Heal. …”
“Enough!” said coach. “Take your bony ass down to that Y, swim three laps in the pool, then sit in the whirlpool for 10 minutes. Then swim three more laps, sit in the whirlpool for 10 more minutes, and then swim three more laps. Then hurry back here, and we’ll pack you in ice.”
… is he a whack job or what …
“OK,” I said.
“And Charlie, do it exactly as I say or it won’t have the desired effect. Understand?”
… talk about half-baked …
Copyright © 2012 by Chuck H. Wells/Ray Hochgesang