I dropped the wash cloth and poured some shampoo in my hands. I reached up and washed his hair, looking intently at the glistening strands, I didn’t...notice as he put his hands up and pulled me closer, ‘You missed a spot’. When I finished rinsing his hair, I slid to my knees, running my hands down his sides to slow my decent. The wash cloth was under my knees, cushioning them, I reached for the soap. I created lather in my hands and set the soap back down. I started at his feet and worked my way. Of course, I was not hurt because I was still in the Multiman persona, but it was the principle of the thing. The shooter had given me no chance to explain myself, much less defend myself. As the saying goes, them were fighting words!The assailant was a man in his 30s and dressed in normal clothes—no uniform or other means of identification. He had shot me with a Beretta 9mm automatic such as one could buy at a gun shop. I didn’t know who he was, but I did figure that he was a danger to. More

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