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He must have dozed off during the bumpy ride that
followed -- he awoke as the eastern sky was just beginning to lighten and saw that the little red pickup had arrived in a neatly manicured front yard, three brick steps leading up to a shiny white front door. "No, no.. let me help you," the gentle doctor who had rescued him from the milking barns lifted him by his underarms and lightly guided him up the brick steps and into an immaculate interior. The entire visible confines of the house were decorated in chintz and maple, round rugs on shiny wooden floors, an old grandfather clock ticking somberly in a corner, a generously proportioned calico cat lazing half asleep on the cold hearth. "You are going to need your rest," the doctor pronounced, "I'll get you something to eat". Later, lying on an intricate red, white & blue quilt, Larry slipped into fitful sleep, his genital dressings changed, his wounds salved with comforting ointments, his terrified feelings finally beginning to recede. When he emerged from his dreams at last, he had a long moment trying to decide if the half light coming in the unfamiliar windows signified dawn or dusk. The room in which he found himself seemed spare, but clean and neat beyond ordinary standards. It was silent except for the muffled ticktock of the grandfather clock, and Larry rose painfully and made his way out into a highly polished hallway punctuated by several white doors, all of them closed. A small brass plaque printed in black let him know which was the lavatory and he stepped inside to relieve himself. "No showers for at least 2 days," said a voice in the hallway, "you need more time to heal up". She was standing, holding a couple of cups of chicken soup, waiting for him at the door. "How can I ever thank you," he asked, "you've been so kind.." "Oh," she replied, an enigmatic look on her elegant face, "I'm sure I'll be able to think of something".
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