The Doctor's Tale (11 page)

Eddie never saw me slide into my own car, parked two rows behind the Pontiac. After the shift I just finished, I had nothing left to give. I sat behind the wheel and breathed the lonely air. While the car groped its way in the darkness, I listened to the voice of my weary spirit.

Did anything I did make a difference? I didn’t know what I believed anymore. I saved the life of a desperate woman with no future, and impulsively ended the lives of two others. While I climbed the steps to my apartment, one thought ran through my mind: I ended three lives.

At that moment, I could not ignore my overwhelming doubts. Had medical school been the worst decision of my life? Was I meant to become a physician? Like a dead animal, the pungent odors of Division Sixteen festered in my mind. Over and over, I heard Freeman’s cruel wisecracks, the drone of Skelton’s lectures, and Mrs. Raines’ desperate pleas. If I did not become a physician, what else would I do? “Plan B” did not exist. Could I face another day?

Lori Raines begged me to send her home. I simply didn’t think it was wise. I might as well sign her death certificate. Hadn’t I told her as much? Yes. Yes, I did. Well, then, there it was.

At that moment, I adopted a personal credo. I could promise my best efforts to each of my patients, but I could not control the final outcome, nor would I question it. Endings, good or bad, were out of my hands.

I decided to send Mrs. Raines home tomorrow.

“Oh my!” Mrs. Pennybaker waddled through the sterile hallway. She stopped in front of Lori’s hospital room, and peered at the number on the doorframe. “Baby Girl? You in there?” The rustle of paper and the click of my pen startled her.

“May I help you?” I stared at the mound of a woman, swathed in a gaudy floral print from head to toe. I didn’t recall her face. Certainly, she bore no resemblance to Lori Raines. Mrs. Raines was, well, much prettier.

“Well, perhaps. You, young man, look intelligent. Not like that stupid Eddie.” She shook her head. “I told Lori not to marry that fool.” Her multi-chin quivered. “And, now this.” She waved her pudgy hand across the doorway to Lori’s room. “Now this.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to wait. Please, excuse me for a second. I need to see Mrs. Raines for a moment. I am Dr. Spezia, her doctor.”

“Oh my! You’re the one she talks about all the time.” She squinted through her smudged glasses, perched on her turned-up nose. “And now, I see why.”

“Hmm,” I said. I blinked twice. The word I swore I would never say was on the tip of my tongue. Now, I thought that perhaps I knew where Dr. Skelton learned to say it, and why.
Hmm.

“Mrs. Raines? Lori? Hello?” I glanced at the rumpled sheets on the wide bed. The bathroom door cracked, and the gaunt woman appeared. Pale, drawn and almost withered, she grabbed the chair by the door to maintain her balance.

“I’m ready to go, Doctor,” she said. “My friend came to pick me up. I heard her voice out in the hallway.”

“Yes, she is here to take you home.” I stared at her. “Or are you going to her house?”

“Oh no. Eddie’s having a big homecoming party for me.” A weak smile crossed her lips. “I don’t suppose you’d want to come?”

“You supposed correctly.” I signed the chart. “You know, your release is against my better judgment.”

“You don’t like Eddie, do you?”

“Please call the office for your next appointment,” I said. I turned and spied the plump woman in the hallway, still waiting for her friend’s discharge. I couldn’t allow my resolve to melt. “Be careful, Mrs. Raines.”

“You know me, Doctor,” she said.

Yes, I certainly do, I thought. Better than you’ll ever know. I watched while Mrs. Pennybaker helped her frail friend into a wooden wheelchair, and I wondered. How many times had she taken this trip to the front doors?

I initialed Mrs. Raines’s chart and turned to leave the room. That’s when I noticed it: a smooth, white envelope, addressed to “Dr. Spezia,” propped against a plastic water pitcher on the nightstand. The letters in the handwriting appeared uneven and hesitant. My fingers tore the flap of the envelope, and I retrieved a folded piece of lined notebook paper.

Dear Dr. Spezia,

When Dr. Skelton told me about the cancer, and how long he thought I had to live, I stopped hoping that I would ever feel better. When I met you, I thought no one could help me. But, you gave me reasons to believe I could feel better. And, I got my life back. You probably don’t think it’s much of a life, but it’s all I have, you know? I think you’re a great doctor. And I want to thank you for helping me all you could.

Yours truly, Lori Raines.

P.S. I will miss our talks.

For a moment, I reconsidered the letter. I didn’t feel I had done
anything extraordinary for Lori Raines. Mainly, I listened to her concerns about coping with the future, her illness, Eddie—and Starr. In that moment, a question mark danced into my mind. Does anyone have the right to offer hope to the hopeless? Perhaps hope isn’t a right, but a privilege.

I believe that hope is a gift; one that no one has the right to withhold. Lori Raines appreciated that gift more than most. In the end, I suppose it was more than anyone else had given her.

“Dr. Spezia! Where’s Miz Raines at?” Accusation loomed in Mary’s dark eyes. A red lollipop dangled from the corner of her mouth.

“She went home.” I slumped at the cluttered desk, and scribbled discharge notes with a dull pencil. I felt so frustrated, I threw a chart at the green plaster wall and rubbed my throbbing temples.

For a moment, Mary remained silent. She spoke cautiously. “Things going that good, are they?”

“I’m worried about her. I probably made a wrong decision. I shouldn’t have signed her discharge papers.”

“Miz Raines did that part all by herself. She be the one that up and married the fool be chasing a ‘ho.”

“Still…”

“You cain’t save folks from theyselves. D’Yan done made her life for herself, and she doing jus’ fine. Miz Raines going to hafta figger out the likes of a woman like Miss Okra for herself. Believe it.”

“Well, I hope she doesn’t.”

“I know what you mean…but, she gonna die anyways. I think a woman like her deserves to know the truth before she goes, don’t you?.”

“No, she deserves some peace at the end of a mediocre life. She should have had better. Why can’t her husband give her a little peace? After he lays his wife to rest, he’ll have plenty of time to drive around with the top down.” I knew I looked furious, but I didn’t care. I was.

Mary crunched the last of the lollipop and stared at me with a curious glint in her eyes. “You white folks make me laugh.”

“I don’t see anything funny about any of this.”

“Me neither. I only mean that you oughtta take Miz Raines home with you.”

“What?”

“Looks to me like you miss her already. That fool she with probly forgot she even in the house. So why don’t ya’ll figger out where she oughtta be, and put her there, so she can get better. Or like you like to say, give her a little peace.”

“Mary, you’re crazy.”

Mary winked at me and licked the sticky cherry candy from her lips. “Am I?”

Mary shook her head. There was just no telling ‘bout white folks. Like her Aunt La Vinia used to say, they had their ways. No use trying to figger them out. Never will, ‘cause they got no sense. Like Miz Raines in there. Telling that fool husband a hers to go on and be with the likes of that trash, Miz Hixson. Flea can’t watch after no dog, don’t she know that? Does she think really believe that Starr can take care of Mr. Eddie? She turned in time to see Dr. Spezia approach Miz Raines’s room. She wasn’t going to leave now, no way. ‘Specially when she saw the tight white pants at the far end of the hall.

Mary didn’t want to deal with the likes of Starr today. A short alcove lined with outdated medical books provided the perfect hideout. Few, if any, read the books; in fact, Nurse Potts wondered how many doctors knew this “library” existed. Come to think of it, the only doctors who did, well, they didn’t seem to need the books. They already knew their patient’s diagnosis. She leaned against a closed door, and for a few seconds, the tiny hallway was as quiet as a church. So quiet, in fact, she heard every word uttered by the familiar voice behind the door.

“Now Sherry, you know you’re the only one for me,” Dr. Freeman said. “How could you ever doubt that?”

Mary didn’t dare move, not even a hair on her head. Who was Sherry? She met Mrs. Freeman last year at the holiday party. Mary
thought her name was Mona. Maybe not. Wait a minute. Sounds like Freeman’s on the line with someone new.

“Hi there, Gorgeous! It’s your Teddy Bear. You coming in to work tonight, or am I coming to your place? Oh, I forgot it’s your anniversary. Yeah, you’d better spend it with him. ”

The nurse knew she needed to get out of here, but she didn’t want to get famous. How many women did Freeman intend to call? A fine dust began to tickle her nose. She was going to have to sneeze any minute.

“Hi, Mona, yeah it’s me. Just another night on call, caring for the poor and unfortunate. Yes, well, that’s why I wanted to be a doctor, you always knew that. You just knew a selfless soul when you met one. No Mona, couldn’t fool a sharpie like you. How are our kids? It’s her birthday? Great. How old is she? Kiss her five times for me. See you sometime, Mona. Hold down the fort!”

The receiver banged into the cradle. “Stupid bitch,” Freeman said. The sound of quick footsteps preceded the slam of a door.

He’s coming this way! Mary grabbed the first book she touched and opened it.

Dr. Freeman stood at the end of the short hallway. His eyes resembled cold, amber marbles. “Doing a little light reading, Nurse Potts?” When he approached her, Mary swallowed hard.

Mary couldn’t look at him, not after the conversations she heard. “I thought it might help me deal with Miz Raines’ case,” she said.

“May I see the book, please? Thank you. So, you’re reading
Exploring the Canine Brain?
I’m sure that Mrs. Raines would be delighted to know that you thought that such an illustrious book might shed some light on her case, Nurse Potts. Tell me, have you read
New Frontiers in Monkeys?”

“No, but I’ll keep that one in mind. There’s a lot of information in this little hall.”

Mary felt the burn of Freeman’s stare. “I wouldn’t spend much time alone back here if I were you,” he said. He turned on his heel and slammed the door behind him.

From the moment I snatched it from my mailbox, the envelope felt sterile, cold, and methodical—much like the person who sent it. I ripped the flap and scanned the curt letter.

“Your required meeting with the Dean…” I knew this day would come. I glanced at my watch. The meeting was scheduled for tomorrow! When was the last time I picked up the mail? With the thirty hour shifts and all that happened in between, I honestly couldn’t remember. This meeting would be my trial by fire.

I considered a call to an attorney, but what would it change? Nothing, as far as I was concerned. If retested, I knew I would make the same choice, all over again. There was nothing else for me to say. On the night I fired the gun, I believed I made the best decision I could, given the knowledge I had at that moment.

Booming thunder filled the summer sky. I stared at the flight of creaky steps that led to my dim apartment. I could already taste the TV dinner—nothing like soggy fried chicken—and suddenly, I wondered what Lori Raines was eating this evening.

The door to Apartment 1-A creaked and opened, ever so slightly. A woman with tousled blond hair peered at me from the shadows. Heavy makeup couldn’t conceal her swollen face. She dangled a cigarette from the corner of her mouth and managed a smile.

“Hi there,” she said. “You live here?”

Her faded tank top looked around a size too small. Maybe two.

“I’m in 2-B. Upstairs.” I thought I heard footsteps, but I couldn’t be sure.

“I saw you and your girlfriend come in the other night. Maybe we could get together for a beer?”

“Cynda,” a man’s voice demanded, “who you talking to out there?”

She stroked her face, winced, and quickly, glanced over her shoulder. “It’s just the mailman, Sol. Go back to sleep.”

“Can I do anything for you?” I said.

“Cynda, I swear to God, I…” Heavy footsteps pounded from somewhere deep inside the apartment. Her eyes grew wide.

“Bye,” she said.

The door slammed. It appeared that our conversation was over.

When I reached the top of the stair, I realized I should have come home sooner.

“Gabrielle!” I said. “What…?”

“Did you forget something?”

I sure did.

Gabrielle was dressed in a cocktail dress, black, with black patent sling back pumps that added another two inches to her 5’10” frame. Gorgeous.

“We had a date, didn’t we?”

“Did we?”

“I brought the patrol car, but I see how important it was to you.”

“Gabrielle, I just had a very bad two days, and I…why did you bring the patrol car?”

“I thought you might like a ride in it.” She glared at me with a fresh rage. “But, I guess I was wrong.”