Date: Tue, 6 Feb 1996 08:29:40 -0500 Reply-To: Frank Balon Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Frank Balon Subject: The Old Timer 2/5 "The Old Timer" part 2 of 5 A Highlander Story by Frank D. Balon Anne began dialing her cellular phone as she exited the hospital parking garage and headed onto the street. She had asked another Doctor to finish the shift for her. Then, she and Joe Pavelski quietly exited the building via the fire stairs, and made their way to her car. Sitting next to her, dressed in a blue surgical top and old rain coat pilferred from a store room closet, sat Pavelski. The old man had had what could only be considered the most incredible, amazing night in his life. He had died... and now... was alive. The phone rang once, twice, and a third time. Then a sleep-filled voice answered. "Yeah?....." "Duncan.....? "No... It's Richie.... Duncan's not here.... " Then in recognition, "Anne... Is that you? What's wrong?" "Richie, something happened tonight in the Emergency Room.... I need help... I thought of Duncan.... Where is he? "Duncan's in Paris for a couple of weeks. I'm staying here, minding things until he gets back.... Can I help?.... What happened?" "An older man was brought in tonight. He was .... in bad shape .... he was beaten ... and shot. We lost him ... but then ...." Her voice faded away. "I get the picture. He, like, got out of there then ... right?" "Richie, I think it was.... " she hesitated, fumbling for the words, ".... his ... first... time.... He doesn't know what's going on.... What he .... is." "Where is he now? .....Where are you now?" "He's with me.... We're in my car.... We just left the hospital." "Okay then." Making a quick decision, Richie answered, "Come here... I'll be waiting...." "Richie.... Thanks." Hanging up the phone, Richie glanced at his wrist watch. "1:38 ... Just great..." He went to bathroom sink and threw some cold water onto his face. He considered the situation and wished that MacLeod was here. Anne had said that she thought that this guy just became immortal tonight. Maybe, Maybe not. He picked up the phone again, hesitated a second, and then punched in a number. After a couple rings, someone picked up at the other end and a familiar voice answered: ".... Joe's Bar... sorry we just closed up... " "Dawson.... It's Richie Ryan. Could you come over to the Dojo? Someone is on their way here that I think may be of interest to you." "Richie, It's going for 2 o'clock. What gives?" "I just got off of the phone with Anne Lindsey. She said that she was working the ER tonight and that they brought in a man who was shot.... and he died. And then he woke up. She is bringing this guy here, now." "What's the guy's name?" "She didn't say. All she mentioned was that he was an older man. She also thinks that this was his *first time*." "A new Immortal! I'm on my way." Richie hung up the reciever, went over to the couch where he retrieved his leather jacket. Putting it on, he walked over to the elevator, lifted the door, and went in. Once downstairs, he turned on the lights, took a seat, and waited. 5 minutes later, he heard a the multiple slam of car doors. He rose when he felt the unmistakeable *Buzz* of another Immortal. Anne and Joe exited her car and approached the short flight of stairs to the Dojo entrance. As Joe took the first step, he stopped suddenly and drew in a sharp breath. Anne looked at him and was ready to ask what was wrong when she remembered what Duncan had told her about Immortals sensing each other. She said instead, "It's all right. Let's go in." The pair continuied up the stairs, and on through the double doors. Richie was waiting near the center of the workout floor when they entered the room. Richie immediately saw the confusion in the man's face as he struggled with the *feeling*. Any suspicion that Richie had that this man might be faking the fact that he was a new Immortal was washed away. Looking about him, it seemed as though he was beginning to realize that the young man before him was the source of this new sensation. Richie strode forward and extended his hand, smiling. "Hello Sir, my name is Richie Ryan." The man took his hand, and returned the strong grip. Looking straight into Richie's eyes, he said: "I'm Joe Pavelski ... And could someone *please* tell me what is going on?" They all turned as a middle aged man limped through the glass doors. Leaning on his cane, he interrupted: "Well Mr. Pavelski, this is going to be a long, difficult story." He grinned, "But maybe this is where I can be of some help." End of Part 2 of 5 =========================================================================