Resurrection Dreams (9 page)

“A scum-sucking kid. I went to give a credit card back to his old man, and the little shit took a bite out of me. I think it’s infected.”

Nodding, Vicki took scissors off the instrument tray. She held his hand and began to snip the bandage. “When did this happen?”

“I guess about three days ago. I figured it’d get better, but it just keeps hurting.”

“Well, let’s see what the damage is.” She finished cutting through the bandage. The bottom layers of gauze were glued to his wound with pus and blood. She soaked a cotton ball with alcohol and used that to loosen the grip of the sticky fluids. At last, she was able to peel the last of the gauze away. She swung the lamp closer, held his hand beneath its powerful light, and inspected both sides.

“That’s a pretty nasty bite he gave you,” she said.

The teeth had left shallow, crescent-shaped wounds on the back of Melvin’s hand. There were similar wounds, but deeper, on his palm. The kid must’ve snapped at Melvin, caught the edge of his hand, and bit down very hard. The area surrounding the injuries looked slightly red and swollen.

“It might not be a bad idea to get some x-rays of this. Just to rule out the possibility of a fracture. We don’t do that here, but I could refer you to a radiologist over at Blayton Memorial.”

“No x-rays. You kidding?”

“Oh, they’re harmless, Melvin.”

“Sure. They’re so harmless, how come they can cause a spontaneous abortion if a fetus gets zapped?”

His question surprised Vicki. How could he know such a thing?

Give him some credit. He’s not as stupid as he seems. “That’s fairly rare,” she said. “And you’re not a fetus.”

“Just the same, nobody’s gonna zap me with no radiation.”

“Does your hand seem to work all right? Any loss of motion in the fingers?”

“They move okay. They’re just sore. Whole hand feels sore.”

“Well, you’re right about it being infected.”

“Gonna have to amputate?” Melvin asked.

“Oh, not today. I don’t think there’s much to worry about. I’ll just clean and dress the wound for you, and give you a prescription for some antibiotics. Human saliva’s a regular cesspool of bacteria. You would’ve been better off if a dog had bit you.”

He grinned up at her. “Been a dog,” he said, “I’d of brought you its head so you’d give it the rabies test.”

The words made a cold place inside Vicki.

“The kid’s old man almost knocked his head off.”

She started to clean the wounds. “Did you get their names?”

“On the credit card.”

“His family really should have to pay for the medical care.”

“I got insurance. I’m not gonna mess with going after them.”

That was refreshing. Most people were ready to sue over the slightest injury. In this case, a lawsuit seemed more than justified. She could understand, though, how someone with Melvin’s history might prefer to avoid stirring up trouble.

“You should try to avoid using this hand,” she said. “Do you have somebody to help you out at the station?”

“I got Manny Stubbins helping me out.”

“That’s good. You definitely don’t want to be pumping gas or changing tires or anything like that. Has the pain been bothering you much? Have you had trouble sleeping?”

“Some.”

“Have you taken anything for it?”

“Just aspirin.”

“And that’s helped?”

“I guess.”

“Well, I could prescribe you something for the pain if it’s really bad. Some Darvon or Valium. But I’d prefer not to. You’d be better off sticking with aspirin or Tylenol, as long as that’s helping.”

“Yeah, I don’t want no dope. Turn me into a zombie. Had enough of that in the looney-bin.”

Vicki started to apply a fresh bandage.

She could feel Melvin staring at her. Almost done, she told herself. A few more minutes, and he’ll be gone.

“Much as I generally hate doctors,” he said, “it’s sure nice coming to one as pretty as you.”

“Thanks.”

Saving yourself for me?

“You got a piece of this?” he asked.

“A piece of what?”

“The clinic here. You a partner, or something?”

“No, I just work here.”

“You oughta have a practice of your own.”

She managed a smile. “Yeah, I could go for that. But it costs a lot of money to start up a practice. Besides, I wouldn’t want to go into competition against Dr. Gaines.”

“How come?”

“He’s a nice man, and he’s done a lot for me. If it weren’t for him, I probably couldn’t have made it through medical school.”

“What’d he do, pay for it or something?”

This is getting awfully personal, Vicki thought.

Though the subject made her uncomfortable, she realized she was the one who had brought up Charlie’s helping her. And what did it really matter if Melvin knew?

“He gave me a pretty good loan,” she said. “My parents helped out, and I had scholarships and I worked part of the time, but without…”

“So you’re here because you owe him?”

“Well, I’m here because I want to be here. It’s not just the loan. I’m sure I’ll stick around, even after it’s paid back.”

“How much do you owe him?”

“That’s between me and Dr. Gaines.”

“Just asking,” he muttered. “Didn’t mean to make you mad.”

“I’m not mad.”

“ ‘Cause I could help you out, you know. I’m pretty rich.”

“Well, thanks. I’m fine.” She finished bandaging him, turned away, and scribbled out a prescription. Her hand trembled as she wrote. Just great, she thought. He wants to give me money. What next?

“I want you to get this filled,” she said, giving the slip to him. “Take the tablets three times a day. And change your bandage every night. If your hand doesn’t get better, come back and we’ll have another look at it.”

“So, we’re done?”

“Yep.”

Nodding, he hopped off the examination table. Vicki stepped into the corridor ahead of him.

“Thanks for fixing me up,” he said.

“Any time.”

Tilting his head sideways, he narrowed an eye and peered at her. “You’re awful nice to me,” he said. “I’m gonna be nice to you.”

She forced herself to smile. “Have a good day, Melvin.”

He lurched up the corridor, stopped at the door to the waiting room, looked back over his shoulder and winked at her. Then he was gone.

A few minutes before five that afternoon, Melvin slid into a booth at Webby’s Diner and ordered a cup of coffee. As he sipped it, he kept watch through the window.

From there, he had a fine view of the Gaines Family Medical Clinic across the street. He could see not only the front entrance, but also the small parking lot along the side of the building.

After a while, Dr. Gaines came out. He went to a white Mercedes in the lot, and drove away. That left a green Plymouth station wagon, a yellow VW bug, and a white Dodge Dart. The bug, he knew, belonged to Thelma the receptionist. Vicki had driven into town in a U-Haul. She might’ve bought a car, but neither the wagon nor the Dart looked new.

She hasn’t got much money, he reminded himself. Not if she had to borrow from Gaines. So she probably couldn’t afford a new car. Maybe she doesn’t have any car at all. Or maybe she bought a used one, or she borrowed one.

While Melvin was thinking about this, a pregnant woman left the building. She drove away in the Dart. That left the wagon. It didn’t seem like the kind of car Vicki would drive.

Beggars can’t be choosers, he thought.

While the waitress was refilling his coffee mug, a man came from the wrong direction, carrying cans of paint, and opened the tail gate of the station wagon. He must’ve been in Handiboy, next door to the clinic. When the paint was loaded, he drove away.

That left only Thelma’s VW.

Melvin frowned.

Maybe he’d missed Vicki.

Or she’s still in there, but doesn’t have a car. Or has a car, but walked. She might only live a few blocks away.

At twenty after five, the front door of the clinic swung open and Vicki stepped out. Melvin stared. He rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth. She looked beautiful. He liked her more in the white doctor jacket she had worn that morning; it was a stiff, formal costume that somehow made Vicki seems all the more soft and vulnerable, as if she needed to wear it for protection. But she looked just fine without it, too. Without her shell. She wore a yellow sundress that had no sleeves at all. Her legs looked very bare below the swaying skirt.

As she walked away, Melvin snapped a quarter tip onto the table. He headed for the door, forcing himself to move slowly so he wouldn’t arouse the suspicion of the waitress or Webby behind the counter. He knew they were watching him. Everyone always watched him, except for strangers in town who didn’t know what he’d done.

Outside, the heat of the afternoon closed around him. He squinted across the street. Vicki was halfway up the block, walking fast. His car was parked at the curb. It’d be stupid, he thought, trying to follow her with the car. Unless he got in and went after her and asked if she’d like a lift. Would she accept a ride from him? Maybe. But she might wonder how come he happened to show up just then.

He decided to follow her on foot.

He stayed on his side of the street, and didn’t hurry.

On the next block, Vicki entered Ace Sportswear.

“Getcha something spiffy in the way of a bikini? Give you our sawbones discount.”

“Not today.”

“Well, then, fuck you. Get outa here.”

A young woman was standing nearby. She whirled around and gaped at Ace.

“Jennifer,” Ace told her, “do me a favor and throw this gal out.”

Jennifer’s mouth fell open. Her face went bright red. She looked no older than seventeen or eighteen.

“Oh, don’t get your shorts in a knot, hon. This is my old bud Vicki Chandler.”

The girl rolled her eyes upward. “I thought you’d flipped out. I mean, Jesus hunchin’ Christ. I mean, shitski, I never heard you take off after a customer like that.”

Vicki grinned at Ace. “You been giving speech lessons around here?”

“What do you mean? Hey, how do you like Jen’s outfit? Spiffy, huh?”

The girl wore a black and white striped dress that looked like an umpire’s shirt. It wasn’t much longer than a shirt, either. The belt was a loose silver chain with a silver whistle that hung against her left thigh. She wore white knee socks and black running shoes.

“Unusual,” Vicki commented.

“Guys love it. Has the sports motif, the little girl motif…”

“The nightshirt motif,” Vicki added.

“Hottest item in the store,” Ace said. “When I get my new shipment in, I’ll give you one. It drives the guys wild.”

“You ready to go?”

“Been waiting for you.” To Jennifer, she said, “Things stay slow, you can close up early. So long.”

“Nice meeting you, Jennifer.”

“You, too,” the girl said.

They left the shop and walked around the corner to Ace’s car. Hot air poured out against Vicki when she opened the passenger door. She rolled the window down before climbing in. The sun had been burning down on the seat. She winced, feeling scorched, and shoved herself up and hooked her elbows over the seatback to keep her rump off the searing upholstery.

“You okay?” Ace asked.

“Medium well,” Vicki said.

Ace sat down on a beach towel folded neatly on the driver’s seat. “Sorry about that, hon. I’ve got another towel in the trunk.”

“Any burn ointment?”

“Want to stop in at the clinic?”

“I’ll live. I guess.” Vicki lowered herself slowly. It didn’t hurt so much, this time. She sighed.

“Where to?” Ace asked, starting the car.

“The first place is on George Street. Near the church.”

Ace made a right onto Central. “Oh, looky there.” She swung her thumb to the left.

Vicki leaned forward, peered past her, and saw Melvin. His back was turned. He was facing the display window of Johnson’s Pharmacy, scratching his cheek with his left hand.

It was odd to see him. Vicki felt as if time had gone haywire. He’d left her office about seven hours ago, hadn’t he?

“He was in this morning,” she muttered.

“I know. You told me on the phone. Going senile?”

“Weird.”

“What’s weird? After seeing you, he probably got inspired to buy some condoms.”

“Oh, charming. Thanks.” Vicki looked over her shoulder and tried to spot Melvin through the rear window. The angle wasn’t right. She couldn’t see him.

“It’s not uncommon, you know, for patients to fall in love with their doctors.”

“It’s not uncommon for doctors to perform frontal lobotomies on wiseass friends.”

Ace glanced down at her breasts. “Think I need one?”

“What?”

“That operation. On my frontal lobes. They look fine to me.”

Vicki ignored that one. She dug into her handbag and took out the folded paper on which she’d written the addresses of the two apartment buildings they planned to visit.

“I really am sorry about Pollock,” Ace said. “That pissbag. I’m gonna have a few words with him.”

“Please don’t. I just want to get out of that apartment and be done with him.”

“Dirty old fart.”

“I just hope I can get into one of these places fast.”

“I wouldn’t count on moving in tonight. I tell you what, we’ll stop by your room after we’ve checked these places out. You can pack up whatever you’ll need, and stay with me till they let you move in.”

“It’s a deal.”

“Great. We’ll have us a blast.”

Melvin supposed they might’ve seen him as they drove by, but he guessed it didn’t matter much. After all, he was right in front of the drugstore, and Vicki had given him a prescription. He’d gotten it filled that morning, but Vicki wouldn’t know that.

When the sound of Ace’s Mustang faded, he turned around and spotted it heading north on Central. He kept an eye on it as he rushed back for his car.

It turned left on George Street.

He reached his car, made a U-turn, and went left on George. The red Mustang wasn’t in sight. “Shit!” He punched the steering wheel. With his right hand. And cried out in pain.

When the agony subsided, he muttered, “Okay, it don’t matter.” He really wanted to find out where she lived, but he’d just have to try again tomorrow. And the next day, if tomorrow didn’t work out. It shouldn’t be hard. He knew he would find out, sooner or later.