God's Gift

    Kenny was stone-cold sober the night a tiny hand emerged from his right ear.  I know, because I was with him at Hoedown's Burger Palace.  We had just come from the Max Cinema where we saw the new Clint Eastwood movie.  We put in our orders and had just settled back in our seats to check out the crowd when it happened.  I didn't pay much attention at first when Kenny kept brushing at his ear, as if trying to shoo a fly away.  It wasn't until he scratched at his ear that it happened.  I happened to glance at him just at that moment and my eyes nearly popped out of my head.  A tiny hand, maybe the size of a preemie baby's hand if not smaller, slowly emerged from his right ear.  The tiny fingers latched on to Kenny's forefinger.  I was stunned, and Kenny had gone into shock. His face got so pale that he resembled a ghost. He tried pulling his finger free--to no avail.  He tried to speak but couldn't utter a sound.  His eyes pleaded with me to help him.
    "Uh... Kenny," I said, finding my voice at last, "keep cool."
    He nodded.
    "Uh... let me see... uh, if I can, er, dislodge your finger. Okay?"
    He nodded again.  He was beginning to tremble. Kenny then raised an eyebrow.  I immediately understood what he was asking.
    "You want to know what has hold of you?" I asked, stalling for time.
    Again he nodded.
    "Ahem... okay. You better sit down... oh sorry, you're already sitting. Well Kenny, it seems--there's no easy way of saying this, man--it appears as if a tiny hand is clutching your finger."
    Again the eyebrow rose.
    "You want to know where it came from? You don't want to know, Kenny, believe me."
    He glared at me and gurgled incoherently.
    "Okay... okay, man.  You sure you can handle this?"
    He nodded his head.
    "Okay.  The hand emerged from your ear..."
    Kenny's face went from white to red to white again before he leaned away from the table and puked on the floor.
      I saw the waitress approaching and leapt up, reached over to Kenny and pulled his long hair over his right ear and hand.
    "Is he all right?" the waitress asked.
    "He's sick.  Maybe we should leave."  I handed her money for the food we ordered that hadn't arrived yet.
    Grabbing Kenny by his left arm, I helped him out to the car.  By now, the poor guy was shaking uncontrollably.
    "Easy, man, just calm down, okay?" I said.  "We'll figure this all out at home."
    He tried to talk again, couldn't, and just nodded his head instead.  It seemed to take forever to get home, but it was only a five-minute drive.  Once inside, I settled Kenny on the sofa, pulled his hair back, and was shocked to see that the hand had emerged into an arm up to the elbow.  I tried to keep my face passive so as not to upset my friend.
    "I'm going to try to get your finger loose, okay?"
    He nodded, and I gently touched the tiny fingers, marvelling at how small they were.  Carefully, I opened the fisted hand, one finger at a time, until Kenny was finally free of its clutch.  He heaved a great sigh of relief as he brought his hand down to his lap.
    "Feel better?" I asked.
    "Y-yes," he managed to say.
    As I watched, the arm emerged further, nearly up to shoulder level.  I know it was inconsiderate on my part, but I couldn't help anticipating the birth--if that was what it was--of this teeny being.  Would it look like Kenny?  I shook my head to snap myself out of these wild thoughts.  Of course it wasn't Kenny's baby.  How could it be?
    "W-what's happening?" Kenny asked, feeling the hand on his neck.
    "Uh... the whole arm is out now, man."
    "Oh God!" Kenny yelled, holding his head.
    I jumped up. "What's the matter?"
    "I have the mother of all earaches!" 
       
         
           
        To be continued.......