June's Dilemma

There are few places as uncomfortable to be in as a stomach. Especially the stomach of a foul swamp beast. But if June had known that she might get swallowed up that evening while on her way to a client’s house, she would have brought swamp monster repellent. Instead, all she had with her was a vile of headache medicine, her moonshine, and her son Jake. He was quite excited when he found out that his mother was taking him on a trip with her to go help cure someone’s illness for the first time, so he had over prepared by bringing all manner of supplies including a lantern and a map of the Bayou. She didn’t really see the need in them at the time, but now that the lantern was lit and helping to keep the wet, damp chamber they found themselves in from being swallowed in total darkness, she appreciated her son’s decision.


The walls all around her pulsed and moved as thundering noises could be heard behind them. They dripped with a viscous liquid which soaked into June’s curly pink hair and old fashion, animal skin clothing. However, thanks to the moonshine, the uncomfortable atmosphere didn’t really bother her. Her son sat on the other side of the small room, lifting up the lantern to adjust the settings. The bright yellow light reflected off of the scaly skin of his face: skin not unlike her own.


“Wow, mama...we got ourselves into quite a pickle this time.” He said as he set the lantern down on the squishy floor of the stomach.


“Nonsense, this ain’t nothing. All this is...is an inconvenience. Now Mr. Butters won’t have no headache medicine until morning.” June said as she took a break from drinking moonshine to take a drag on her cigarette holder.


Jake took off his backpack, setting it down on the floor before proceeding to rummage around in it. He pulled out his Nature Guide, opening it up and scanning the contents for a solution. “How we gonna get out of this one, mama? This may be the craziest thing that’s ever happened to either of us.” He said.


June removed the cigarette holder from her lips and blew a rolling billow of smoke into the musty air. “Nonsense; this ain’t nothing big. Swamp monsters are just like Hoggis, our pig. They swallow up things all the time, but they’re too lazy to digest them so they just come out the other end, a little bit slimy but no worse for ware. Now, if you wanna hear about a real freaky time, I could tell you that.” She said.


Jake set the book down, staring at his mother with a twinkle in his eyes. “Really, mama? You got a story to tell? Do we have the time?” He asked.


She simply shrugged, smiling calmly to herself. “Sure we have the time. A swamp monster’s tummy takes it’s sweet ol’ time so we may not get out of here for another few hours. It can’t hurt to pass the time with some stories.” She said.


After shoving the book back into his backpack, Jake crossed his legs and eagerly grabbed onto the toes of his boots, rocking back and forth. “Well mama, are you gonna keep me in suspense? I wanna hear the best story you got!” He said with a beaming smile.


June took a deep swig of her moonshine, racking her brain to come up with a truly fond memory of herself overcoming a challenge greater than the one she found herself in at that moment. As the alcohol kick-started her brain, a toothy grin broke out across her face. “Yep...I got one alright. A good one too.” She said.


As her son eagerly prepared himself to receive her story, June thumbed her way through the rolodex in her mind of all her past adventures. She began to tell of a time when she was mistaken for being someone else named June who lived in the city outside of the bayou. Normally, this wasn’t an issue but a piece of mail had been delivered to her instead of the other person, and that had made all the difference.


June should have known something was strange since it was delivered by a frightened young postal man who clearly wasn’t from around the Bayou as opposed to the usual method of her getting news which involved a note written in crayon tied to an arrow and shot at her house. But she figured that a job was still a job and so she took it. The letter explained that there was a patient in one of the hospitals in town who was in need of serious professional aid but none of the other doctors were as skilled as her. So they had written a letter asking her to come out of retirement one last time and help them close this case.


“But mama, you ain’t never been retired!” Jake said.


“Of course I haven’t, and that’s when I started to get a bit suspicious. But if someone was in need of medical service, I couldn’t deny them my help.” June replied.


She continued on, explaining that despite knowing nothing about the medical problem just based on the letter alone, she packed her bag full of everything she figured that she might need and loaded herself into a cannon. There were multiple hospitals in the town, but she just picked the coordinates of a random one using the map she has pinned to her bedroom wall, aimed the cannon, and fired herself high into the night sky.


Around that time, the Saint Grace Hospital in town was ablaze with activity as nervous doctors paced up and down the hallways, waiting for Doctor June Goodhouse to arrive. The head doctor, Cornelius Snorkle, had tried everything to reach her in this desperate time. Patient 001 was in very critical condition, and none of the doctors could figure out what was wrong with him. But Dr. Snorkle was sure Dr. Goodhouse would hold the answer. After all, she had done miracles in the past with her legendary knowledge of medical science. But she was an awfully difficult woman to reach and mailing her a letter was his last ditch effort to get her attention.


Luckily, when things seemed most bleak, the Doctor had arrived. Unfortunately, he hadn’t expected her to enter the building by flying in through the glass ceiling in the atrium.


“Was that you, mama? Don’t that hurt?” Jake asked.


“What? Naw...it’s just a wee bit of a fall is all. Besides, the whiskey kinda helps soften the blow if you know what I mean. Now where was I? Ah yes, so them doctors seemed kinda freaked out when I came crashing in which confused me before I figured they’d have known that that’s how I get around if they knew anything about me.” June explained.


“But they should have known that you wasn’t the June they was thinking of. After all, you’re last name ain’t ‘Goodhouse.’ What kind of cityfolk name is that?” Jake inquired.


June assured him by explaining that many of the doctors knew that she wasn’t the June they were thinking of. But when Dr. Snorkle arrived to assess the situation, he insisted to the other doctors that it was in fact Dr. Goodhouse, it had been awhile since she had retired and that there were bound to be differences in her appearance.


“Personally, I told him to take me to the patient immediately. After all, it was a medical emergency!” June declared.


Dr. Snorkle, who was in desperate need of a solution at that point, quickly rushed June to the emergency room. There was no time to get her check in at the front desk or have her background clarified with anybody. They only had time to get a white surgeon’s mask on her and some sterile gloves which she made very clear that she wasn’t very happy about wearing. Inside the circular operating room, a plethora of bright white medical equipment encircled a man lying on an operating table. His body was illuminated by the large light hanging overhead, and his chest had been cut up to expose his inner workings.


He was being kept alive by the life support systems, but by the dying sound of his heart monitor, it was clear that he may not make it out of that room.


“We’ve tried everything to save him, doctor Goodhouse. But there’s just nothing we can do! His condition is very unusual and apparently very rare. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life.” Dr. Snorkle said as he paced back and forth nervously.


June was already rummaging around in her bag for supplies. “Pipe down, you big windbag. It don’t look like that much to me.” She said as she pulled out two bottles filled with brightly colored liquids.


At first, Dr. Snorkle was overjoyed to hear this news. Finally: a solution to the conundrum. But his cheerfulness quickly died down when he watched as June began to haphazardly pour the liquids into the chest cavity without any further thought.
“Uh...Doctor? What are you doing?” Dr. Snorkle asked as he approached the operating table.


“I’m just soothing his wounds is all. I mean look at the inside of this rib cage! Filthy! I haven’t seen darker ribs since I was at Big Boa Bubba’s cookout and he made up some of his classic tar-roasted alligator ribs. Boy I tell ya. Now be a sweet boy and hand me my scalpel.” She said as her hand reached out in his direction.


Already unsure of the situation, Dr. Snorkle reluctantly reached for the small silvery knife that sat on the aluminum tray beside the operating table.


“No, no, no. The other one! The bigger one; down in my bag.” June said as she fished around in the wet insides of the patient with her free hand.


Dr. Snorkle bent down and reached into June’s satchel, pulling out the first thing he felt which happened to be a rusty hacksaw with the word “scalpel” misspelled on it. “Uh...Dr. Goodhouse? Are you absolutely sure about this? Shouldn’t we at least...sterilize it or something?” he said.


“Naw, it’s fine. A little bit of rust ain’t hurt no one. By the way, don’t call me Dr. Goodhouse, sweety. Call me June.” she said as she took the hacksaw from his hand and jabbed it into the open pit in his stomach.


She sliced away at the entrails, splashing a mixture of blood and strange colored juices all over her dress and the table around her. At this point, Dr. Snorkle had had enough. “Dr. Goodhouse, please! I don’t understand what you’re doing! How is this helping the patient?” he said as he rushed towards the witch doctor. Suddenly, June’s hand shot back and accidentally smacked the older gentleman in the face, causing him to double back and trip on several cords on the floor, crashing into one of the machines. “I need that bottle that says ‘fermented pig urine.’ Think you can hand me that?” She asked without looking his way.


Rubbing his aching head, Dr. Snorkle slowly got up to his feet. Unfortunately, his legs were tangled up in wires and as he took a step forward, he accidentally pulled the dialysis machine off of it’s cart and causing it to crash into the EKG machine. He tripped, knocking over the stand that held the IV bag which fell and landed on a surge protector. The bag ripped open and water spilled out onto the open outlets which send sparks flying in all directions. Smoke began to pour of the sides of the medical equipment all around as overloading amounts of electricity were being sent directly into each of them.


Throughout the chaos, however, June continued to operate. “Almost done, I just need one more thing...” She said as she poured the bottle of pig urine that she had to grab herself because the doctor wouldn’t hand it to her. Dr. Snorkle got up and looked around at the awful scene that had unfolded around him. Esteemed doctor or not, this was no place to operate on a patient in such a critical condition. Plus, it had just occurred to him that maybe he should have stopped to ask if the retired Dr. Goodhouse had contracted a bad case of senility in her retirement. So after checking to make sure that his legs weren’t wrapped in anything, he rushed forward and grabbed June by the shoulder. “Doctor! Listen!” he cried.


She spun around and looked at him with annoyance. “What is it? Can’t you see I’m working here?” she spat out at him.


“We have to stop the operation this instance!” He shouted.


“Why would we want to do that? I just got done sewing him up!” She said.


“But this whole room is now filled with safety hazards, and I’m starting to question whether or not you should be...wait...what do you mean ‘you sew him up?’” he asked.


His attention was drawn away from her as he watched the impossible happen. Patient 001 slowly sat up on the operating table; the hole in his chest reduced to a scar lined with stitches which ran down his chest. The man blinked curiously as he looked around. “Where...where am I?” he murmured quietly.


“Well I’ll be...she really did it...” Dr. Snorkle whispered as he gazed in astonishment.


“You’re in the hospital, sonny. I don’t know what you got yourself into, but you best be more careful in the future. After all, if I hadn’t come as soon as I did, you may have gone under before I could get to you. But it’s all good now. Why don’t you take it from here, Doctor?” June said to Snorkle as she packed up her stuff into her satchel.


Around that time, a team of nurses and other doctors came rushing in with fire extinguishers and a gurney. While some of them began shutting off machines and cleaning up the mess, a few of them made sure to help the Patient off the table. “Sir, how do you feel right now? Any pain? Any trauma?” one nurse asked as she helped the patient onto the gurney.


“Pain...no...not really...but something does smell like pig urine...” The man calmly said as he layed down on the rolling cart.


Dr. Snorkle just stood there amidst all the commotion: eyes wide with disbelief. All he could see was June as she casually walked out of the operating room and out of his life forever. And he was once again a believer in the power of Dr. Goodhouse.


“But were weren’t Doctor Goodhouse, mama.” Jake pointed out.


“Well he didn’t know that. Besides, that’s only what I think he was thinking. I don’t actually know. I had to add a couple of details to embellish the story. But you get the point. Anyway, that about wraps it all up.” June said as she took one last sip of her nearly empty moonshine bottle.


The fleshy walls shook all around them as a inhuman gurgle resonated throughout the chamber. Jake frantically looked around, unsure of what was going on. “What was that, mama? What’s this big ol’ swamp monster doing?” He asked.


“Don’t know. I guess we kinda upset his tummy with all our tomfoolery and storytelling. But you know what? He can suck a rotten egg for all I care. You hear that, Mr. big-monster-man? Your dumb stomach can rumble all night for all I care!” She shouted up at the closed sphincter muscle at the top of the stomach.


Jake flicked the glass of the lantern in an effort to keep the dancing flame inside alive and active. “So what now, mama? It don’t seem like we’ve been squeezed out the other side quite yet...” he pointed out.


“Well the digestion process hasn’t begun yet. It might take awhile. How about another story?” He said.


Jake nearly jumped with glee. His eyes filled with wonder as he waited for his mother to recount another tale from her past.


And as June took a slow drag off of her cigarette holder, she knew in her heart that she had plenty of stories to tell.