The Doctor's Tale (13 page)

On the green plaster wall, I noticed a collection of diplomas, and a portrait of a young man, clad in a starched white coat. He was, in fact, handsome. I stared at the wrinkled face before me. Had Dr. Skelton ever been young? Could it be?

“Speak up, doctor. What do you have to say for yourself?”

I hung my head. “I have a few things to say. They may not change your mind.”

“Let’s hear them, quickly. I’m on a tight schedule.”

The glass on the photo of the young man in the white coat reflected the morning sunshine; and, for a moment, I thought it emanated a certain glow. “I felt I had no choice. If I hadn’t shot that man, he would have taken my life, and maybe the others in the room as well.” I shrugged. “He definitely intended to shoot my patient. I’m sure of that. I firmly believe I had no choice but to act as I did.”

Dr. Skelton leaned forward and folded his hands. His voice grew somber. “Let us be clear on one point, Dr. Spezia. We—you—any physician, always has a choice. A physician must also have impeccable, unwavering judgment. At this moment, Dr. Spezia, your judgment genuinely concerns me.”

“Dr. Skelton, up to the final moment before I fired the first shot, I opposed guns.”

“Really? Can you explain how you came to possess one?”

“I grabbed it when it fell on the floor. It belonged to someone else.”

“Now, you’re beginning to amuse me, Doctor. Who owned this firearm?”

I didn’t want Mary to lose her job. She needed it as much as I did.

“It could have belonged to the patient. Perhaps it belonged to one of the shooters. At any rate, when it slid across the floor, I grabbed it.”

“And you never fired that gun before this incident? Spezia, do you expect me to believe this nonsense?”

“Dr. Skelton, I don’t know what I expect you to believe. I can hardly believe it myself. I had to take charge of the situation to save my patient, myself and everyone around me.”

“And, did you, in fact, save your patient?” The doctor seemed to spit the words from his mouth.

“For a while, yes.”

“For a while? What do you mean? Either you saved him or you didn’t. Either your efforts were successful, or they were not.”

“When I saved his body, I couldn’t save his mind. His next of kin decided against life support.”

“Hmm.” Dr. Skelton stared at the portrait of himself in the white coat, all those years ago. “You had quite a night, Spezia. How many people died?”

“Two, sir. My patient, and the man who shot him.”

“Hmm. I see. Two problems with two separate resolutions. Quite a lot of pressure for you.”

“Yes.”

“Hmm.” Dr. Skelton grinned, ever so slightly. “So, tell me something, Dr. Spezia. Are you satisfied with your decisions?”

“Yes sir, I am.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes sir.”

“Okay, then. I can appreciate your decisiveness. One must decide and move forward, right or wrong. No regrets. It seems that you have gotten the hang of it.”

“Yes sir.”

“I’ve been wondering about something, Spezia. How is Lori Raines doing these days?”

Again, I hung my head.

“Doctor? Answer the question.”

“I discharged her a few days ago. According to her wishes, sir.”

“So?” The Dean clasped his hands together and peered at me intently. “And? How is she doing?”

“She was admitted again sometime last night. I saw her briefly this morning, and her condition is stable. But, I don’t believe she should be released to home care ever again.”

“Hmm. So, you are not satisfied with your decisions?”

I stared back at him. “Can a physician ever be satisfied with failure? Lori Raines is dying, while I am forced to stand by and observe her slow demise. That is failure. But, short of finding a cure, I don’t see that there is anything else I can do about it.”

“What did you just say?”

“I believe I have failed Lori Raines. But there’s nothing more I can
do. Her husband is unsupportive, to say the least, while I stand by, helplessly observing her decline while her disease progresses. No, I’m not satisfied.”

“Well then, I’m glad we had this little talk. What did you learn from this case, hmm?”

I stared at the portrait on the wall. Somehow, I felt that it spoke to me. It reflected and glowed like a magical charm. “That I’m not satisfied?”

“What do you usually do in such a case, Doctor? Or, has it been awhile since you have been dissatisfied with an outcome? No, don’t answer that. Just consider this: have you done all that you can? If you have, you will feel satisfied. If not, well, you won’t. Only you can answer the question.”

I sat for a moment. I felt mesmerized by a stream of light that appeared to emanate from the portrait on the wall. As if on cue, Dean Skelton began to speak.

“The scene that has captured your imagination is one of myself, thirty years ago. Surprised? Don’t be. You, too, will look quite different thirty years from now. But there is a good chance that you may also feel quite differently as well. Doctor, no matter what the case, no matter what the outcome, if you do not feel that you have done all that you can, then you have an obligation to do more. I cannot tell you explicitly how to do that. But, I can tell you this: if you do not do all that you can, you will be dissatisfied. Only you can decide how much is enough, and how much you can tolerate. I do know what I am talking about, hmm?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“Never tolerate a regret. Regrets can be unforgettable. Perhaps unforgivable.” Dean Skelton snapped his glasses into a neat case and dropped them into the front pocket of his white coat. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have another meeting to attend.” He extended his hand. “Good day and good luck, Dr. Spezia. You’re on your way. Things aren’t as simple as they seem, hmm? Wasn’t it Aristotle who said that? Well, it doesn’t matter who said it, I suppose—it’s true, isn’t it?”

I gazed at the portrait. “Yes sir.” The Dean was right. I rose from my chair and strolled into the drafty hall. I had to do more for Mrs. Raines—much, much more.

I didn’t like the look on Mary’s face. She looked like she just spotted a tornado, or maybe even a ghost.

“What is it, Mary?” I said. “What’s wrong?”

She folded a slip of yellow note paper, and stuffed it into my palm.

“Your sister called, and lemme tell you, she was fightin’ mad. Said to tell you to call her the minute you got in.”

“Rosa said that to you?”

“That and more. If I were you, and I’m so glad I’m not, I would call her back ASAP.” Since Mary wasn’t known for her social etiquette, I took her advice. My sister answered on the first ring.

“Hi Rosa, it’s…”

“I know who it is, Tom.” Rosa said. A few seconds of stony silence elapsed.

“Is this an emergency?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, what’s wrong? Is someone hurt?”

“You know very well why I am calling you.”

“Rosa, I am at work. I am behind on my charts, and…”

“Why are you ignoring Gabrielle?”

“Gabrielle? What? I haven’t seen her for…”

“That’s just it. She says she left at least five messages on your message machine. None of them—not a single one was returned, Tom. Oh, and she said you were supposed to meet her at the shooting range last night for a little target practice, maybe go out for a beer. But no, you never showed. You stood her up, Tom.”

Uh-oh. There was no excuse. Besides that, alibis take a lot of energy. I was exhausted.

“You are right, Rosa. I’m a jerk.”

Ha! Silence on the other end. Gotcha Rosa.

“Don’t you like her?”

Rosa was never one to let me have the last word.

“Sure I do,” I said. “I’m just busy.”

“Call her.”

“Rosa, please, I…”

“We’re all busy, Tom. Call her. Tonight.”

From the moment I arrived at my apartment that evening, I felt uneasy. Something felt “different.” What was it? It was Rosa’s phone call, I decided. My sister didn’t understand what my life was like these days. I’m not even sure I understood it.

I tiptoed past Apartment 1-A, and hoped with all my heart that Cynda wouldn’t open the door—you know, to “talk.” Tonight, I was looking forward to something I hadn’t had for what seemed like a long time: solitude. My feet quickened their pace, and climbed the creaky stairway to the second floor.

I didn’t like what I saw.

The door to my apartment looked slightly ajar. When I took a few steps and pushed, the door opened wide. The familiar scents of garlic, onions and simmering tomatoes wafted into the hallway. I thought of my grandmother’s spaghetti sauce, the one my mother and Rosa still made every Sunday, standing side by side in the kitchen.

I stepped into the living room and listened for a moment. Did I hear music? The grandmother clock chimed six times.

“Rosa?” I said, “are you in here?”

The lyrics to
Honky Tonk Woman
blared from the rear of the apartment.

“Okay,” I said, “Who’s there? I’m calling the cops!”

“Somebody beat you to it, Spezia.”

I never thought my eyes would blink, ever again. They didn’t want to close, even for a mini-second. Gabrielle approached me, wearing a half-smile on her glossy lips—and little else.

“This cop got tired of waiting for you to call,” she said. “So, she called you. You really should lock your front door, Dr. Spezia.”

“When did you get here?”

“Is that really what you want to know about me?”

Her kisses were warm and sweet, and tasted like wild cherry wine. When she pressed her body against mine, a raging fire coursed through my body. Even now, I couldn’t tell you what she was—or wasn’t—wearing. I figured that a wise man knows when to accept surrender—and enjoy defeat.

The following morning, I woke up beside her. After that night, I hoped I always would.

Trapped in the world of a fitful sleep, Lori saw a stranger without a face. She began to run. Her breath grew shorter. The mist swirled around her. The rain fell harder. Thunder crashed and boomed. Finally, Lori saw the face. It was Starr! Dressed in her tight white pants, the blonde laughed and chased her, laughing, always laughing…

Terrified, Lori stared into the blackness. The air reeked of bleach and bandages. A starched pillowcase grazed her cheek. This was not her bed. The mattress felt too wide.

Muffled whispers broke the silence. Lori winced and peered into the shadows. In the dim room, she could barely distinguish a man and a woman, now engaged in a passionate embrace. She couldn’t be certain, but to her, those folks sure looked like Eddie and Starr. A smoldering kiss, followed by another, and yet another, made her heart ache Eddie used to kiss her like that, sure did. Until now, she thought he had forgotten how.

Lori tried to speak, but her lips felt cakey and dry. Her tongue simply refused to move. At last, she glimpsed the first light of dawn. When the sun rose over the horizon, her curiosity overcame the wounds of betrayal. The rumpled sheets rustled beneath her frail body.

“Eddie?” Lori said. “That you Eddie?”

The startled couple separated. Someone dashed from the room into the hall.

Bedside her, someone waited by her bed.

“Hey,” Eddie said.

His hand reached for hers, and Lori thought how strong it felt,
clasped in her own. Still, she wanted to scream and curse his infidelity. Yet, when she opened her mouth, her voice sounded raspy and old.

“How’d I end up in here, Eddie? I mean, I just got home, didn’t I?”

“You passed out again, Princess. I hoped you’d come around, but you never did. Starr helped me load you into the Pontiac. Without her, I don’t know where you’d be right now—probably dead. You almost stopped breathing this time, girl. We almost lost you.”

Lori turned and stared at the plaster wall.

“Lori?” Eddie said. “You okay?”

“Starr staying at our house?”

“She helps out now and then, yeah.”

Lori studied a wooden crucifix on the plaster wall. Barely secured by a rusty nail, it looked as if it might fall at any moment.

“Eddie, you know I don’t have long. So do I. Can’t do nothing about it.”

“I know that, baby. I’m here for you, ain’t I? I’m doing for you like I always said I would. I know Dr. Spezia don’t think much of me. But, you know the truth. That’s all that matters to me.”

“Yeah, Eddie. Like I was saying. Now let me finish.”

“Okay then. What’s on your mind?”

“I know I’m not being much of a wife to you any more. Seems my job is filled.”

“Do we have to talk about this now?”

“Yeah, Eddie. We do. I’m not coming home. ”

“You know what I think? I think you need some of those pain pills.”

“I want you to be happy.” Lori gazed at her husband. “You know what I’m talking about?

“You know, don’t you?” Eddie hooked his thumbs in his pockets, and rocked back and forth on his toes.

“I heard about some new places in Las Vegas. I think I’m going to go out there. Maybe even do a little singing and dancing again, who knows?” The faint glow of a smile couldn’t erase the sadness in her eyes. “Go live your life without a sick lady.”

“But Lori, I don’t see why… “ Eddie’s voice grew hoarse, and he stopped himself.