Godplayer (27 page)

“Thanks for coming in to see me,” said Dr. Ballantine, as soon as Thomas was seated in his office. He seemed somewhat ill at ease, and Thomas shifted in his chair.

“Thomas,” Ballantine finally began. “I think we should speak frankly. I assure you that whatever we say will not leave this room.”

Thomas rested an ankle on his knee, steadying it with his hands while his foot began to pump rhythmically.

“It’s been brought to my attention that you might be abusing drugs.”

Thomas’s foot stopped its nervous movement. The low-grade headache became a pounding agony. Although anger flooded his consciousness, his expression stayed the same.

“I want you to know,” said Dr. Ballantine, “that this is not an uncommon problem.”

“What kind of drugs am I supposed to be taking?” asked Thomas, making a supreme effort to rein in his emotions.

“Dexedrine, Percodan, and Talwin,” said Dr. Ballantine. “Not uncommon choices.”

With narrowed eyes, Thomas studied Dr. Ballantine’s face. He hated the older man’s patronizing expression. The irony of being judged by this inept buffoon drove Thomas to the brink of frenzy. It was lucky that the Percodan he’d taken in the lounge was beginning to work.

“I’d like to know who brought this ridiculous lie to your attention,” he managed to ask quietly.

“That is not important. What matters ...”

“It’s important to me,” said Thomas. “When someone starts this kind of vicious rumor, they should be held accountable. Let me guess: George Sherman.”

“Absolutely not,” said Dr. Ballantine. “Which reminds me. I spoke to George about the regrettable incident last night. He was mystified by your accusation.”

“I’ll bet,” snapped Thomas. “It’s common knowledge that George tried unsuccessfully to marry Cassi before I met her. Then I gave them the opportunity by working so many nights ...”

Dr. Ballantine interrupted. “That doesn’t sound like much solid evidence, Thomas. Don’t you think that you might be overreacting?”

“Absolutely not,” said Thomas, uncrossing his legs and letting his foot down with a bang. “You saw them together yourself at your party.”

“All I saw was a very beautiful girl who seemed only interested in her husband. You’re a lucky man, Thomas. I hope you know that. Cassi is a special person.”

Thomas was tempted to stand up and leave, but Ballantine was still talking. “I believe that you have been driving yourself too hard, Thomas. You’re trying to do too much. My God, man, what are you trying to prove? I can’t even remember the last time you took a day off.”

Thomas started to interrupt, but Dr. Ballantine cut him off.

“Everyone needs to get away. Besides, you have some responsibility to your wife. I happen to know Cassi needs eye surgery. Shouldn’t she be getting some of your time?”

Thomas was now reasonably certain that Ballantine had talked with Cassi.

As incredible as it sounded, she must have come to him with her wild stories about drug addiction. It wasn’t enough, thought Thomas with anger, that she went to his mother. She also had to see his chief of service.

Thomas suddenly realized that Cassi could destroy him. She could ruin the career that he’d spent his whole life constructing.

Luckily for Thomas, his sense of preservation was stronger than his anger. He forced himself to think with cold, hard logic as Ballantine finished.

“I’d like to suggest that You take some well-earned vacation.”

Thomas knew that the chief would love to have him out of the hospital while the teaching staff whittled away at his OR time, but he managed to smile.

“Look, this whole thing has gotten out of hand,” Thomas said calmly. “Maybe I have been working too hard, but that’s because there has been so much to do. As far as Cassandra’s eye problem is concerned, of course I’m planning to spend time with her when she’s laid up. But it really is up to Obermeyer to tell her how best to handle her retinal problems.”

Ballantine started to speak, but Thomas interrupted him.

“I listened to you, now hear me,” said Thomas. “About this idea that I’m abusing drugs. You know that I don’t drink coffee. It’s never agreed with me. So it’s true that I occasionally take a Dexedrine. But it has no more effect than coffee. You just can’t dilute it with milk or cream. I admit it has different social implications, especially if someone takes it to escape from life, but I only use it on occasion to work more efficiently. And as far as the Percodan and Talwin are concerned: yes, I’ve taken them at times. I’ve had a propensity for migraines since I was young. I don’t get them often, but when I do, the only thing that helps is Percodan or Talwin. Sometimes the one, sometimes the other. And I’ll tell you something. I’ll be happy to have you or anyone else audit my prescribing habits. You’d see in an instant the amount of these drugs that I prescribe and for whom.”

Thomas sat back and folded his arms. He was still trembling and did not want Ballantine to notice.

“Well,” said Ballantine with obvious relief. “That certainly seems reasonable.”

“You know as well as I,” said Thomas, “that all of us take a pill now and then.”

“True,” said Dr. Ballantine. “The trouble comes when a physician loses control of the number he takes.”

“But then they’re abusing the drug,” said Thomas. “I’ve never taken more than two in twenty-four hours, and that’s only with a migraine.”

“I must tell you that I feel relieved,” said Dr. Ballantine. “Frankly, I was worried. You do work too hard. I still mean what I said about your taking some vacation.”

I’m sure you do, thought Thomas.

“And I want you to know,” continued Ballantine, that the whole department only wants the best for you. Even if we see some changes down the line, you will always be the keystone of our service.”

“That’s reassuring,” said Thomas. “I suppose it was Cassandra who came to you about the pills.” Thomas’s voice was matter of fact.

“It really doesn’t matter who called it to my attention,” said Dr. Ballantine, standing up. “Especially since you’ve laid my fears to rest.”

Thomas was now positive it had been Cassi. She must have looked in his desk and found bottles. He was swept by another wave of anger.

He stood up, his fists tightly clenched. He knew he had to be alone for a while. Saying good-bye and forcing himself to thank Ballantine for his concern, Thomas hastily made his way out of the office.

Ballantine stared after him for a moment. He felt better about Thomas, but not completely reassured. The scene at the party nagged him, and there were those persistent rumors that had cropped up recently among the house staff.

He didn’t want trouble with Thomas. Not now. That could ruin everything.

When the door to the waiting room opened, Doris quickly dropped the novel she was reading into a drawer and closed it with one smooth, practiced motion. Seeing Thomas, she picked up the telephone messages and came around from behind the desk. After being alone in the office all afternoon, she was happy to see another human being.

Thomas behaved as if she were part of the furniture. To her surprise, he went past her without the slightest acknowledgment. She reached out to grasp his arm, but she missed, and Thomas continued into his office as if he were sleepwalking. Doris followed.

“Thomas, Dr. Obermeyer called and ...”

“I don’t want to hear about anything,” he snapped, starting to close his door.

In commendable saleswoman fashion, Doris got a foot over the threshold. She was intent on giving Thomas his messages.

“Get out of here,” screamed Thomas. Doris stepped back in fright as the door slammed in her face with jarring force.

The fury that he’d suppressed during the harrowing interview with Ballantine engulfed him. His eyes searched for some object on which he could vent his anger. He grabbed up a bud vase Cassi had given him when they were engaged and smashed it on the floor. Looking at the shattered pieces, he felt a little better. He went over to his desk, pulled out the second drawer, and grabbed a bottle of Percodan, spilling several of the tablets onto his desk. He took one, putting the rest back, then went into the washroom for a glass of water.

Returning to his desk, he put away the pill container and closed the drawer. He began to feel more in control, but he still could not get over Cassi’s treachery. Didn’t she understand that all he really cared about was his surgery? How could she be so cruel as to try to jeopardize his career? First going to his mother, the one person who really had the power to upset him, then George, and now the head of his department. He would not tolerate this. He had loved her so much when they were first married. She had been so sweet, so delicate, so devoted. Why was she trying to destroy him? He would not let her. He would ...

Suddenly Thomas wondered if Ballantine was glad about all this. For some time he had the nagging feeling that something strange was going on with Ballantine and Sherman. Maybe it was all an elaborate play to undermine him.

Thomas again felt a thrill of fear. He had to do something ... but what?

Slowly at first, and then more rapidly, ideas began to form. All at once he knew what he could do. He knew what he had to do.

Still troubled by his meeting with Thomas, Ballantine decided to drop down to OR to see if he could find George. Sherman may have lacked Thomas’s genius, but he was a consistently excellent surgeon and an evenhanded and unflappable administrator. The house staff admired him, and Ballantine was increasingly considering backing George as chief when he himself stepped down. For a long time, the trustees had pushed to get Thomas to switch to full-time so he would be eligible for the post, but now Ballantine had doubts even if Kingsley would agree.

Unfortunately George was still in surgery. Ballantine was surprised and hoped there was no trouble. He knew George had had only one seven-thirty case that morning. The fact that he was still in the OR in the middle of the afternoon was not auspicious.

Ballantine decided to use the time to visit Cassi on Clarkson Two. Even if he wasn’t totally sanguine about her husband’s future, Ballantine wanted to offer what reassurance he could. Despite the years Dr. Ballantine had been on the staff of the Boston Memorial, he’d never once set foot on Clarkson Two, and when he pushed through the heavy fire door, he felt as if he’d entered another world.

In a lot of ways it did not seem like a hospital at all. It had more the feeling of a second-class hotel. As he passed the main lounge, he could hear someone plunking atonally on the piano, as well as some mindless television game show. There were none of the sounds that he traditionally associated with the hospital, like the hiss of a cycling respirator or the characteristic clink of IV bottles. Perhaps the thing that made him the most uncomfortable was that everyone was dressed in street clothes.

Dr. Ballantine could not be sure who was a patient and who was on staff.

He wanted to find Cassi but was afraid of approaching the wrong person.

The only place he could be sure of knowing who was who was the nurses’ station. Dr. Ballantine walked to the counter.

“Can I help you?” asked a tall, elegant black woman whose name tag said simply, Roxane.

“I’m looking for Dr. Cassidy,” said Dr. Ballantine self-consciously.

Before Roxane could respond, Cassi’s head appeared around the door to the chart room.

“Dr. Ballantine. What a surprise!” Cassi stood up.

Ballantine joined her, again admiring her fragile beauty. Thomas must be crazy to spend so many nights in the hospital, he mused.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” asked Ballantine.

“Of course. Would you like to go to my office?”

“Here’s fine,” said Ballantine, indicating the empty room.

Cassi pushed some of the charts away. “I’ve been writing summary notes on my patients for the other doctors to use while I’m in for my eye surgery.”

Ballantine nodded. “The reason I stopped down was to tell you in person that I’ve already spoken with Thomas. We had a very good talk. I feel he’s been pushing it a bit, and he admitted a small reliance on Dexedrine to keep him awake, but he pretty well convinced me that he only took the pain-killers for his migraine headaches.”

Cassi didn’t reply. She was certain Thomas hadn’t had a migraine since he was in his teens.

“Well,” said Ballantine with forced joviality. “You get your eye taken care of and don’t worry anymore about your husband. He’s even offered to have his prescription roster audited.” He stood up and patted Cassi on the shoulder.

Cassi wanted desperately to share Dr. Ballantine’s optimism. But he had not seen Thomas’s pupils or his staggering gait. And the chief was not the recipient of his unpredictable moods.

“I hope you’re right,” said Cassi with a sigh.

“Of course I’m right,” said Dr. Ballantine, annoyed that his pep talk hadn’t worked. He started to leave.

“And you didn’t mention our conversation,” Cassi added, seeing Ballantine was becoming impatient.

“Of course not. Anyway, Thomas’s jealousy makes it obvious he adores you. And with good reason.” Ballantine smiled.

“Thanks for coming down,” said Cassi.

“Don’t mention it,” said Ballantine, waving. He headed down toward the fire door, glad to be leaving Clarkson Two. He had never understood why anybody would take up psychiatry.