Gabriel was running late. He had a 2 ’clock appointment to give blood at the gymnasium at Washington High School. At least he thought he ; no one had ever called him back to his reservation. Probably a confirmation call wasn’t even , he thought.

He didn’t feel comfortable giving blood , no matter how much they talked about the of getting infections. As far as Gabriel was , if anything involved humans, it also involved the of human error. But he was willing to the risk because he liked to think that was his way of “giving back” to his .

When he started his car, he knew the station would be his first stop after the . He wouldn’t have time to gas up before appointment, because long gas lines were a daily as people tried to beat the rising gas .

Gabriel walked into the gym. No other donors there. Six staff people, identified by their “Give ” T-shirts, were inside the gym. He walked over Andrew, the staff supervisor.

“I have an appointment two o’clock to donate my blood,” he said.

“, we’re ready if you are,” said Andrew, smiling.

“’m ready, willing, and able.”

“Great! Just fill out form.”

Gabriel filled out the form in just few minutes, and then gave it back to . Andrew gave the form to Alexis, who asked to sit down at her table. She asked if he liked the new forms. Gabriel asked was new about them.

“I don’t have to you about 30 questions that I used to to ask you, so they save both of time.” She asked Gabriel to hold out his .

“Which finger do you prefer?” she asked, as unwrapped the needle that she was going to his finger with to get a blood sample.

“, it doesn’t matter. They’re all the same to . Where is everybody? The last time I was , the gym was full,” Gabriel said.

“I don’t . It’s not even 2:15 yet. I'm sure it start to get busy shortly. We’re hoping that shows up,” Alexis said.

“Maybe you ought to away free T-shirts to encourage a good turnout,” suggested.

“Or free gas to guarantee one,” Alexis .