Doc. Dempsey coiled the ends of his braids and stuffed them in the hip pockets of his dockers. He grabbed his newspaper and go-cup and walked to his jeep. He took a slurp from his go-cup and a glanced at the road before going back to his newspaper. He read a feature about one of the teachers at Two-Eagle-River school. The speedometer was sitting at about 25 mph. The jeep rolled down the Round Butte road, which was used to the 65mph traffic that stacked up behind him, but occasionally escaped him with the whoosh-sound of passing.

Rhonda sat on the paper-covered exam table.

"What can I do for you?" said Doc. Dempsey.

"I'm itching again." said Rhonda. "Same stuff, same John as before."

"Ok. I'll give you the same prescription." He said and began writing sloppily on a pad of paper. Rhonda took the paper, smiled and left.

He was reading the most fascinating story about hydroelectric dams when he ran off the road. Rough hands pulled him out of the jeep, he'd been sleeping.

Mr. Gleason grabbed his newspaper from the cab of the jeep, rolled it up and beat him with it.

"This damn newspaper is going to get you killed, you idiot!" he said with a red face. "I see you drive by here every morning, slow as a snail, hold'n up traffic, like you're king of the world."

"Accidents happen. You're over reacting." said Doc Dempsey.

"This wasn't no accident. This was plain stupidity. If you don't get yourself killed then you'll cause someone else to get killed when they try to pass you." said Mr. Gleason.

Rhonda was sitting on the paper-covered exam table again.

"What can I do for you?" said Doc. Dempsey.

"Can you run blood tests? Something's wrong, I've been passing out, nauseous, shaking. Maybe it's bad drugs, maybe it's an STD. I don't know." she said.

"Ok, I can get some tests done to try to figure this out." he said.

He was reading about Ronan's wrestling team's victory at the state championship when he ran of the road again, and killed himself.

"Now who is going to take care of me?" said Rhonda, at his funeral. She wouldn't go to Doc. McDonald or Ballenger, because she didn't want to feel their reproach or hear their lectures.