Need to catch up first? Please go to:

http://authspot.com/novels/second-chance-part-one/

Then:      http://authspot.com/short-stories/second-chance-part-two/

1966 is here again. Dave Summers reaches 14 this year, again. He knows that good things will happen like England winning the World Cup. Bad things too: such as the Aberfan Disaster of 21st October 1966. Those poor schoolchildren engulfed by a slipping slag-heap mountain.

Right now, however, Dave is sitting in the waiting room of his dentist. He will soon be having “laughing gas” for the second time. (Well, for the third time, in a way). Dave reflects that his “first time”, at eight years old, was a complete disaster! He had vomited afterwards, with shock as much as anything. Originally he had felt sick with nerves before his second experience, but that had gone very well. This time he is very confident. Dave pretends to read some magazines. A woman approaches reception.

Receptionist: “Are you here for the general anaesthetic?”

Woman: “Yes.”

Receptionist: “Please take seat.”

Dave smiles to himself. The receptionist had the sense not to say “gas” or “a tooth out”!

As before he goes out for some fresh air. Dave watches the doctor arrive, carrying The Black Mask! When he goes back in, a lady asks him to use the toilet before he sits down.

Presently the girl assistant appears and calls his name. She is surprised when he smiles at her, making her obliged to smile back. Trying not to look Too confident he walks into the surgery and reclines in The Chair. It is indeed very comfortable and his head is well padded.

Dave: “Just one request. Can you do it so I can breathe through my mouth? I sometimes find it hard to breathe through my nose.”

Soon he hears the gush of gas as the mask is whipped onto his face. WRONG! He turns his head away.

Dave: “Can’t breathe through my mouth like THAT!”

The doctor moans and groans but fiddles about then tries again. That’s better!

Dave’s feet go numb immediately. The rim of the mask feels like giant lips, clasping his nose and mouth in a massive kiss. Gas gushes onto his face. Yet he knows not to fight it. Instead he takes deep breaths. He has his own private atmosphere upon his face. Looking left he spots the breathing-bag: a rubbery-looking balloon going “up” and “down” with his every inhalation and exhalation. He can hear the “bag” too, amplifying his breathing.

Doctor: “Good. Breathe deeply!”

The air before Dave now wiggles and transforms into waves that beat down upon him. He closes his eyes. The gas becomes an ozone-flavoured, wholesome “fluid”. Soon he is floating on an eddying, swirling sea. What a “trip”! So relaxing. So therapeutic. He keeps breathing. Relaxes. Floats.

Dentist: “It’s done Dave.”

Yes, it’s over. Dave’s legs are a little wobbly. But he’s fine. Another episode of his life is over. Again!

Paul Butters