The Freak: Part 1.

The man with two birthdays.

Based on a post by Senor Longo. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.

PROLOGUE.

My legal name is John; John Joseph French, but nobody who knows me; not even a single teacher; calls me by my legal name. My family calls me Jack or JJ. All my friends call me Freak. it's not an insult. it's a term of endearment. After all, how many people do you know who celebrate two birthdays? I have my original one; November 12, 1942; and I have my Re-birthday ; March 27, 1951. It was the'day I almost died. It was the'day I was reborn. It was the'day my life changed forever.

December, 1960.

My story doesn t start here, but this is where I ve decided to begin; in church. It was the first week in December and a surprise blizzard had dumped almost ten inches of wet sloppy snow overnight. Luckily, I had a 4-wheel drive Jeep with big knobby tires that were great for snow or for driving on the beach, something I did occasionally in the summer at my parents bungalow on Long Island. It was slow going over the eight miles from my home to St. Catharine s, but I still arrived in plenty of time to get a seat on the end of the pew.

I had been there maybe fifteen minutes when I stood for the start of the Mass. I couldn t help but notice the striking young woman standing just behind me along the wall. Looking down I could see from the puddles at her feet that her shoes were soaked through. She had walked a long way in the snow. I'm a gentleman so I exited the row and pointed her to my seat. Thank you, she whispered with a smile.

I tried to pay attention to the priest, but, truthfully, I found the girl much more interesting. As I concentrated on her I realized that this was her lucky day, but I had to be in the right place at the right time. Just before the service ended I walked quickly to the stairs at the main entrance where I pulled two carefully folded objects from my coat pocket. They were Korkers; rubber soles that strap to one's special shoes or boots with numerous sharp metal studs that give incredible traction on the slickest surfaces. Once they were in place I stepped to the icy sidewalk and waited.

It was some five minutes before she appeared with the throng of worshipers who signaled that Mass had ended. I stepped in closely behind her, grabbing her firmly under her arms even before her shoes slipped on a small patch of ice and she fell backwards. Had I not been here she would have landed on her back, smashing the rear of her skull onto the sharp-edged concrete below. She would have died from a brain hemorrhage long before any emergency services would be able to reach her. Instead, I helped her to her feet and suggested she take my arm.

I noticed your shoes were wet in church. Once you came out into the freezing temperature those wet soles turned to ice. you're lucky I'm an observant person. You might have been badly hurt. We had walked almost half a block before I spoke again. How far do you have to walk?
Just to the other side of Lincoln Avenue.

Okay; that's more than a mile. I thinkI'dbetter give you a ride. you'll be a lot safer in my Jeep than on these sidewalks. I'm sure that a lot of them aren't shoveled yet.

you're right.