（外文电子版资料）Stephen Woodworth - Transubstantiation.pdf

Transubstantiation By Stephen Woodworth 27 November 2000 Marcus squeezed the ball in his hand until his fingernails dug into its rubber surface, as if to pump every drop of blood in his body into the little plastic bag connected to his arm. A white-coated Red Cross matron with flat-topped granny glasses hurried over to the cot where he lay. Whoa! Thats enough! She pulled the needle from his arm and placed a square of gauze padding over the hole in his arm. If you could hold that for me a moment . . . . He placed his left hand over the gauze and lifted his right forearm. Ah, I knew you were a pro at this! She sealed and labeled the bag, which now bulged with burgundy fluid. Sure filled that one fast. Nudging his fingers off the gauze, she taped the pad to his arm. Now, you go ahead and lie here for a few minutes-- Marcus sat up and swung his legs off the cot. Im okay. Are you sure? She quickened her steps to keep up with him as he stalked toward the exit. You know, you shouldnt drive until the dizziness passes. He smiled at her. Im fine, really. Well, here. She bustled over to a table and dug some items out of an ice chest and a paper grocery bag. At least take these along to fortify you. She handed him a half-pint carton of orange juice and a little package of chocolate-chip cookies. The thought of drinking orange juice again nauseated him, but he accepted the gifts graciously. Thanks. Once outside the clinic, he dropped the juice and cookies in the nearest trash can, then ripped the tape and gauze off his arm and added them to the garbage. There wasnt even a scab left on his skin. He checked his watch: half past three. If traffic wasnt too bad on the Santa Monica, he could make it to the collection center downtown before they closed. That would make it four pints today. He used a different name, of course, but the routine was the same -- the paperwork, the needle, the bag, the gauze. An hour later, Marcus found himself back on the