Promise Me Eternity (4 page)

“I don’t have a lot of spare time and if I
could devote myself to research the whole time, then …” Dr.
Patterson knew the hospital had all the equipment needed for
pathology research. Along with the time issue, this was the most
important reason to work in the hospital as a scientist.

“Listen, Simon, didn’t we have this
conversation last month? I thought I made it clear this is not
something I can consider. Don’t you know how valuable you are for
the hospital? Don’t you realize how many lives you save every
month?”

Simon Patterson struck the desk with his
hand. “I don’t give a damn about all those lives! Let someone else
save them! What about my life? Don’t I have the right to do what I
want?”

Shocked at the outburst, the hospital
director said, “Get a hold of yourself, Doctor! There’s no need for
you to pound on my desk.” With the tips of his fingers he brushed
back some stray hairs that had fallen in his eyes. “I told you
before, I don’t have an unlimited number of surgeons. I cannot
approve your request. Can you really not understand that?”

“There will always be a shortage of surgeons.
My wife is right about that. It will never get better. But if I
could work on research, I could—”

“No, no, and again, no! Damn it all, you’ve
got to get this idea out of your head once and for all!”

An oppressive silence dominated the room.

Dr. Horras thought he might have been too
blunt, so he added, “You are one of the finest surgeons I know, and
I cannot stand by and watch you throw away your valuable
experience. Are you completely nuts?”

Simon ground his teeth and grimaced. “Fine.
If it’s not going to happen, then it won’t happen. I suppose I
should get back to work. Apparently, I’m going to have to let
someone die. Then maybe you’d reconsider. Perhaps I’ll do
that.”

Dr. Horras, astounded, looked at Simon as he
was leaving the office. “What are you saying? Come on, don’t be
ridiculous.”

Dr. Patterson slammed the door behind
him.

“That man has gone completely crazy,” Brad
Horras said aloud to himself. “It’s obvious he and his wife are
having problems again.”

Chapter 7

_______________________

Dr. Miner was gray-haired and well-groomed, a
fitting aspect to his refined, aristocratic manner. He exuded a
certain air of superiority, an arrogance of which he himself was
not aware. He was the proprietor of a private plastic surgery
clinic located within twenty-five miles of Medford. A diverse
assortment of famous people from all over the world came to see
him, demanding that he restore their lost youth. Dr. Miner never
promised miracles, but nevertheless the results were extraordinary.
Satisfied clients sang his praises everywhere they went, and this
brought new clients to his door. Without any advertising, Dr. Miner
had so much work that he employed more than twenty surgeons and at
least two dozen nurses. As the general director of the clinic he
was busy, yet he still performed operations in addition to teaching
new surgeons.

Now finishing a correction to the chin of a
wealthy stage actress, he examined it closely one last time and
then left her to Dr. Hamilton, who always assisted him. Dr. Miner
was content. There had been no complications during the operation.
For two hours’ work, this woman was going to pay him nine thousand
dollars. He smiled.

Dr. Miner was proud of his work. In his
office he ran his eyes over the photographs arranged on the wide,
oval, cherry table. Looking at one in particular, he rocked his
head back and forth. The skin on one woman’s face was healing very
badly. Even now it was obvious to him that a few tiny scars would
remain and the client would not be pleased. He frowned and shook
his head.
That’s the way it goes in life; things don’t always
turn out the way you want.

He thought about checking in on one of his
patients, but then changed his mind. He felt a sharp pain in his
neck and back, the result of being on his feet and bending over all
day. A glance at the wall clock convinced him that it was best for
him to go home. He grabbed his car keys and left the office.

Waiting at a red light, he yawned and looked
at himself in the rearview mirror.
What should I do now?

To his right, the sun was reflecting off the
tall, modern glass buildings. He thought about his life and felt
himself giving way to gloom and loneliness.

He was almost home when he remembered a way
to liven up his evening. At the thought of Monique, his whole body
tingled. It had been two months since he had last seen her. Ashamed
of what they had done, after their last encounter he had told
himself he would stop.

As he drove along the tree-lined road he felt
the blood rising to his face. He couldn’t get Monique out of his
mind. He smacked his lips a few times and shook his head. “No, I
don’t want to do it, damn it! It’s not normal!”

But a mile later, the inside of his mouth was
so dry he had to do something. He picked up his cell phone.

“Hello? Who’s this?”

“It’s me. Robert.”

“Oh, the little doctor! Are you missing
me?”

In the background he could hear a sharp
slapping sound. Dr. Miner knew exactly what it was. She was doing
it on purpose. He could barely manage to swallow. “Ye-yeah … I
w-wanted … you know …”

“Cat got your tongue, little doctor?”

“N-n-no. I’d l-like to …”

“I want you to get your ass over here right
now!” she commanded. "Understood?”

“Y-yes. R-right away.”

She hung up on him.

Twenty minutes later, Dr. Miner rang the
doorbell of a private apartment on the third floor of an old brick
building. The door was opened by a tall, slender young woman of
Chinese ancestry. She had wild purple hair and wore tight-fitting,
black leather pants and a top with two large holes through which
her breasts protruded. “Get in here!” she ordered. “I don’t want
any of my neighbors to see me. March!”

Obediently, he went into the apartment. But
before he took another three steps, she slapped him on the back of
the head.

“Wha-a-at? What did I do?”

“You know the rules. You have to take your
shoes off before entering.” Again she struck his head with the palm
of her hand.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll take them off right
away.”

With fiery eyes she watched his big butt as
he stooped down. It was a temptation she could not resist. She
placed the sharp point of her boot against his backside and shoved
with all her strength. With pleasure she saw him go flying forward
onto his face.

“Arghh!” he cried. “What’d I do wrong?”

“Nothing. That’s extra punishment for not
taking your shoes off at the door. So you’ll remember not to do it
again!”

He had trouble picking himself up, since he
had fallen head forward with his left arm twisted beneath his
body.

When he finally did right himself, he felt a
slight dizziness and could barely stay on his feet. He let out a
silent moan and caressed his arm. Tomorrow he would be covered in
bruises again. He would have to wear a long-sleeved shirt so the
people at work would not see the red marks and swellings this
savage woman was about to cause. Nevertheless, he followed her into
a large, dimly lit room, the walls of which were covered in metal
chains and other implements designed to inflict pain. Every time he
walked into this room, a thrill ran through him and the hair on his
arms and legs stood on end. He wanted to be punished. He wanted her
to punish him for all the sins of his past. He wanted
redemption.

“Get in here!” she commanded. “I despise
weaklings. I’m going to make a man out of you! The kind who can
stand on his own two feet.” She cracked her whip in the air.

He trembled like a child and stared at the
floor.

“Damn it! Didn’t I say I don’t like
weaklings? You’re standing there as if your legs were made of
butter. Aren’t you a man at all? Go stand against the wall! At
once, I say!”

“Y-yes, ma’am.” This was what he wanted most
of all. Now he would have to do his penance.

“Strip!”

Robert unbuttoned his shirt and took it off.
Next came his pants and socks.

“Underwear too.”

“I don’t know, if I …” He felt gooseflesh on
his arms. This was followed by a sharp pain across his chest,
caused by the lash of the whip. He quickly pulled off his
underwear, all the while staring at the floor.

“I have never in all my life seen such a
loser!” She bound him to the wall with chains so he could not move.
When she was sure he was unable to run away, she stepped back.
“Now, have you been naughty again?”

He screwed up his face and nodded. He felt
like crying.

“I’m going to have to punish you. Do you
understand that?”

“Y-yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now where’s your money?”

“My wallet’s in my right pants pocket. Take
out two hundred dollars.”

When she had the wallet in her hands and saw
the wad of money inside, she said, “The price of services has gone
up. I’m taking four hundred.”

“But …”

She tossed the pants to the side and picked
up a thin plastic stick. “How dare you speak like that to me! Do
you think I’m some cheap whore?” She struck him with the stick.
Once, twice, a third time, a fourth time …

“No, I didn’t mean to …” He whimpered loudly.
“Ah! … Ah! …”

She shoved a piece of wood in his mouth. “You
cry out just one more time, damn you! You know I have sensitive
neighbors!”

Completely flushed, he nodded his head.

Then she started beating him without mercy.
Red lash marks appeared on his pasty body, some diagonal, others
vertical. “This is so you remember how to speak to me.”

He waved his hand at her to tell her to
stop.

“Take that, and that, and that …”

The pain was intolerable. His teeth bit into
the wood and he could hardly bear it. He thought about all the sins
he had committed.
This is right. I must put up with it.

“You’ll get what’s coming to you, damn
it!”

The blows stung him so badly, he wanted to
spit out the wood and ask her to stop. But he didn’t.
I’ve
earned this punishment.

She exchanged the stick for another that had
metal pieces attached in various places. These left little cuts in
the skin. “What an idiot!” she said scornfully, with a great sweep
of her arm.

His bulging eyes begged her to stop.
That’s enough! I can’t take any more! Please, stop!

“And that, and that …”

The beginning was the worst. The first blows
seared the skin. Over time the pain eased up somehow, becoming
increasingly less sharp, more bearable, stirring his blood until he
felt like he was in heaven …

Or in hell?

She was still striking him with the stick. He
thought she might never stop. The pain ran through his body like
fire.

She kept telling him he was a loser, was not
worth a dime, humiliating him. It was, indeed, truly hell.

After about five minutes he started shaking.
A naive observer would be afraid he was having an epileptic fit.
His quivering body gave out a muffled, gurgling sound.

And finally the blows stopped. He hung there
on the chains trying to catch his breath.

When he had recovered a little, Monique
untied him and went into the kitchen. “Be sure not to slam the
door,” she cautioned him. “The neighbors are always
complaining.”

His cheeks burning, he quickly got dressed
and waved good-bye to her.

“This really was the last time,” he said
aloud when he had shut the car door and started up the engine. “I’m
never going to call her again.”

Chapter 8

_______________________

Dr. Patterson took the night shift twice a
week. He stood by the tall window at the end of the hallway,
watching the dark midnight sky, a vast and benevolent expanse of
sparkling stars. He thought he saw a meteor.

“The night is so beautiful, isn’t it?”

He turned around. “Oh, it’s you, Anita. Yes,
indeed. It’s especially beautiful tonight.”

“If you’re up for it, how about getting some
coffee? My treat.”

She seemed to have changed somehow, he
thought. Maybe it was the makeup or something else. But she looked
different, more attractive.

“Not a bad idea. I’d like some coffee.”

The room with the coffee machine was
deserted.

“How do you like your coffee?” she asked.

“Large, black, unsweetened.”

“They say people who drink unsweetened coffee
have a sweet life.” She sized him up, teasing with her eyes.

“I’m not exactly sure that’s true in my case.
And I’ve been taking my coffee without sugar all my life.”

She waited for the dispensing machine to fill
a cup for her too, then carried them over to a high table with
barstools. “I don’t think we’ve ever had coffee together, have we?”
she asked.

“Sadly, I would have to say we haven’t.”

“And how long have we been working together?
Over two years?”

“We’ll have to chalk it up to the pace of
work around here. It’s always so hectic.”

She took off her hairnet and let her long
black hair cascade over her shoulders. Simon was astounded by how
beautiful she was. She had a sweet, adorable face.

“That’s the nature of our profession,” she
said. “There simply isn’t any free time.”

He raised the plastic cup and took a sip of
coffee. “Tell me, are you and Jerry still together?”

She stared into space, surprised. “Jerry? No,
we broke up. We still live in the same apartment, but he’s going to
move out soon. He’s in the process of looking for a place. We’re
still good friends, but that’s all.”