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For as long as I live, I'll never forget the night I got divorced. It happened sort of like this.

"Ambulance Two responding, snakebite victim, Roger," said Traci, my wife, into the microphone, and then we were on our way, Tamer and Tamer, with siren blaring.

"On the wings of a nightingale," sang Traci. "Florence Nightingale, don't you know?"

There was a small crowd when we got to the location, a street near the edge of town. Our victim was a boy, teenaged, being held sitting up by a teenage girl. Traci and I got out of the ambulance, Traci with the medkit.

We were met by a man, "Jake," read his name badge. "That's my boy, he's bit by a rattler, you got to save him." He dropped to his knees and lowered his head. "Dear Lord please take the immortal soul of my boy Ted," he prayed, a heartfelt prayer at a desparate time. Ugh. Unanswered prayers are sometimes the very best.

"Bonnie, keep holding him," said Traci to the teenaged girl, as she cut the pant leg off Ted. She got out the antivenin.

"Odd," I thought to myself. "It's horse serum, not the usual hybridoma monoclonal mix." I felt a queasy shiver go down my spine, as if someone were walking on my grave... or Ted's. Suddenly I knew something was wrong.

"Don't inject him! He's allergic! You'll kill him!" I yelled.

"No one's allergic," said Traci. She flicked the bubbles from the hypodermic.

I had to stop her. The pokeball dropped from my hand to the ground, hit the ground with a thunk, expanded, lay there wobbling. It seemed the whole world stopped. "Drop the hypo," I said. I'd never seen such a look of fear in Traci's eyes. There was a tinkle as the hypodermic hit the ground. There was another tinkle... as her wedding band hit the ground next to it.

"You're the boss, Deputy. What're we doing?" asked Traci.

"Old fashioned way, get a tourniquet and give me a scalpel." I said.

I made the cuts, sucked the venom from the wound, and spat it out. Yuck.

We got to the medcenter. I'd radioed ahead, so a doctor was waiting. "I had a hunch he was allergic to the horse serum," I told the doctor, lamely.

The doctor looked surprised. "No one in the town's allergic to horses," he said. "I'll test him, though, since we're here."

Traci left without a word.

The doctor came back a short while later. "Yes, he's allergic, you saved his life. How did you know?"

"Hunch." I told him. He clapped me on the back.

I walked over to the sheriff's office, made out my report. No one was around. I slept in a jail cell. I was awakened by the sheriff in the morning. "Son, your wife's report says you drew a weapon on her to stop her from injecting Ted," he told me. "I don't see a 'gun unholstered' with your report."

"It wasn't a gun, sir," I told him.

"Well, we can't have that. We have to work hand in hand with emergency medical, you know. Tamer, you're fired. Clean out your locker. The mayor will be here to pick you up in ten." He turned away so I could not see his face. "Damn shame, too, I thought you'd be the one to replace me so I could retire. You go without a fight, and you can use me for a positive reference if you need one."

I cleaned out my locker and grabbed my things from my desk, and put them in a small box.

The mayor, one of Traci's maternal aunts, was punctual as usual. "Let's go, James," she said. I didn't know where she was taking me.

She pulled over on the highway outside of town. "Get out," she said. I got.

"What you got in the box?" she asked. I showed her the things I'd grabbed from my desk and locker. "I'll take that," she said, referring to a wedding picture of Traci and me. "Don't make this difficult, you make trouble and we'll have you in legal limbo forever."

Yup. I knew that wasn't an empty threat. The town had big influence in Albuquerque. I handed it over, along with my name badge, and several other things. "We'll see that Traci gets these," she said.

She pulled out a sheaf of papers... "Sign these," she said. She pulled out her notary book and stamp. I signed. She notarized. Divorce papers, already signed by Traci and the judge, who happened to be Traci's great-uncle. Title to our house, my name to be removed from the deed. Document relinquishing our joint bank account. Even the pink slip for my little Honda Nighthawk motorcycle; I didn't know what Traci would do with it, since she didn't ride.

"Okay, okay, okay," she reviewed the documents. "All in order." She opened the trunk of her car, pulled out an oversized coolie hat, and clapped it on my head. She handed me a roll of duct tape and a two-gallon canteen of water. She pulled out an enormous skateboard, and put it on the road. She pointed at the skateboard. "Turn that in at any post office in Albuquerque, and it'll get back to us," she said. "Now git, and don't stay in New Mexico any longer than you have to."

She got into her car and pulled away. I taped my box and the canteen to the skateboard (noticing as I did so that the underside had a "property of Rusty Spring New Mexico Post Office please return" sticker). The skateboard wheels made a pleasant sound, and I put Rusty Spring miles behind me. The sun was hot, and I was glad I had the coolie hat and the canteen.

A couple of hours later, a car passed me, honked, then pulled over. It was Jake, Ted's dad. "I am so sorry, I didn't know they'd exiled you. Poor way to treat the guy who saved my kid," he said. "Let me give you a ride." He took me to the Greyhound station in Albuquerque, and offered to drop off the skateboard for me. He bought me a ticket to Nowheresville, Kansas, since I didn't have any money.

...and that was the end of my married, happy life. Do the right thing, earn a reward. What a crock.

A heartfelt prayer at a desperate time is as good as a ray of hope piercing the carrion creating cave of despair. On the wings of a nightingale it rises into the unknown, and sings it's sweet song to every atom and every event...and who knows what the effect might b?. He dropped to his knees and lowered his head - he was making his way from the cave's gloom to the light. "For as long as I live" he said unto his heart, "I will try my best to have hope and shun the stultifying darkness". Unanswered prayers are sometimes the very best, he had heard, but in this case the answer was the act of prayer itself.

i closed my eyes &throw my self "on the wings of a nightingale"so it can take me far far away..i always praied to fell in love but when i saw them i realized that"unanswered prayers are sometimes the very best" he was standing few meters far from her but her dress was full of blood he could not move but 4 the first time he prays his tears were saying that he's " a heartfelt prayer at a desperate time" she felled on the ground he ran to her...there she was laying lifeless "he dropped to his knees and lowered his head" he held her between his arms her blood covered his face then he cried like never b4... he cried like the homless in a chrissmas night..it's a sight ill remeber "for as long as I live"

[ 3. He dropped to his knees and lowered his head. ]

Sounds like this one might belong in the "Gay & Lesbian" forum instead...