He ran through the jungle as fast as his feet could carry him. The air was electric; all around him was danger. Every bush, every tree, every rock could have one of them hiding behind it. He had no idea where he was going; all he knew was he had to get away from them.

He didn't see the tree root until he'd tripped over it and lay sprawling on the ground. He turned to see one of them staring into his face, squinting black eyes cold with hate. He felt the gun's hard barrel against his temple -

Max screamed as he sat up in bed, his eyes flying open to stare at the dark shadows against the wall. His pajamas, clammy with sweat, clung to his skin like the peel of an onion, and his heart hammered in his chest like the beat of a drum. He'd had the nightmare again.

He'd hoped being back home with his family and friends and resuming his normal life would have brought an end to it, but now it was back, and there was nothing he could do except try his best to push it from his mind and get on with his life.

With a sigh, he lay back down to try to get a couple more hours of rest before it was time to get ready for work.

Later that morning, he was chatting with Matthias and Stephen when he saw a customer drive up. He walked outside and greeted the couple with a smile.

"Can I help you?"

"My wife is a secretary, and we've decided it's time she buys her own car. I'm tired of driving fifteen miles out of the way every day to and from work," the man said. He wore a baseball cap, and while he was talking, the cap seemed to morph into the pith helmet of a Viet Cong soldier, and to Max, it seemed he stood there in full uniform, holding his Chinese Type 56 Assault Rifle.

"No! Get away from me!" screamed Max, ducking for cover behind the nearest car.

Right away Mathias was barging outside.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

The bewildered customer shrugged.

"I guess I must have scared him, somehow. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

Matthias went to his nephew and tried to soothe him.

"It's all right, Max. Everything's all right. Nobody's going to hurt you."

"I thought he was going to shoot!" Max's voice trembled.

"But I don't even have a gun!" the customer protested. He turned to his wife. "Come on, hon. I guess today just isn't a good day for car shopping."

"I'm very sorry this happened," Matthias told the couple. "Come back tomorrow, and I'll give you a discount."

Realizing what had just happened, Max felt foolish.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Matthias," he said. "I don't know what got into me, but I swear, it won't happen again."

"It's all right, Max." Matthias patted him on the shoulder. "I'm not angry at you, but I think you should take the rest of the day off to rest and calm down."

"I'm all right now. I can finish out the day," said Max.

"Oh, no. I insist," his uncle replied. "Just go back home and have a nice long rest, and we'll start again fresh in the morning."

Knowing there was no point in arguing, Max got into his car and drove toward home. Abruptly, he changed his mind and drove to his parents' home instead. The last thing he wanted right now was to be all alone.

Elizabeth was helping Amon with his algebra when she heard the doorbell ring and went to let her oldest son in.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "I thought you were working today."

"Something happened." Max sighed, unsure how to tell his mother about the incident. "I was helping a customer when suddenly I thought I was back in the jungle fighting. I thought he was about to shoot me! Oh, Mom, it was so real!"

He clung to his mother as he sobbed, and she held him and comforted him, just as she had when he'd been a little boy with a skinned knee. Amon looked on in confusion.

Eventually, Max was able to calm down enough to sit on the sofa.

"What is wrong?" signed Amon.

"Something scary happened to Max at work, but he's all right now," Elizabeth signed back.

Later, Max noticed his parents' medicine cabinet and was drawn to it. He opened its door to see the painkiller Elizabeth had been prescribed for a sprained ankle several months before. He'd taken the same drug himself for an abscessed tooth once and remembered the pleasant, giddy sensations it had provided in addition to the pain relief. Just what he needed for the next time the fear and panic returned.

A split second later, the bottle of pills was in his pocket.


Elizabeth couldn't sleep. The headache that had started shortly after dinner had intensified to the point that a heating pad was no longer enough to relieve it.

Making as little noise as possible, she crept from the bed and made her way to the medicine cabinet, where she soon discovered the bottle wasn't in its usual spot. Wondering whether she'd simply put it in a different place, she removed every single bottle of medicine from the cabinet, carefully reading each label, but none of them were the pills she was looking for. With a sinking feeling, she returned the medicine to the cabinet. There was only one explanation.

Max had taken her pills.