The Doctor's Tale (5 page)

The next time I thought about anything, I heard water running in the bathroom. The morning sun streamed through the bedroom windows. The grandmother clock chimed seven times. I spotted Gabrielle’s shoes beside the bed, and all at once, I felt confused

Were we going out again—or not?

When I entered Mrs. Raines’ room the following morning, the tension in the room spit and crackled. Loose strings of matted hair framed her swollen eyes. Tiny wails escaped her chapped lips. I expected the usual audience, but today, Mrs. Raines was alone. After Dr. Skelton’s confrontation with Starr and Eddie, I decided to avoid the Raines’ marital issues. After all, what I knew about marriage could fill a thimble.

“How are you feeling this morning, Mrs. Raines?” I said.

Her calloused hands struggled to hide her ruddy face. She pointed to a wallet-sized photo of Eddie on her breakfast tray, propped beside a bowl of cold, dry oatmeal.

“Mrs. Raines,” I said, “look at me. That’s good. Has Dr. Skelton seen you today?”

Mrs. Raines stopped crying and swallowed once, very hard. Weary and wounded, she seemed unable to speak. After several moments passed, she finally relented. “I don’t want to see him anymore, Dr. Spezia.” Her chin jutted in defiance. “He doesn’t understand me at all. He thinks I’m—what did he say? He called me ‘terminal.’” She raked her hair with her fingers. “That’s not me. That’s not who I am.”

After this declaration, I felt speechless. The chart I retrieved from the nurse’s station rested in my trembling hands. Now, I shuffled the papers to read Dr. Skelton’s notes. Indeed, he seemed to be fond of the word “terminal.” According to his scribbled notations, Mrs. Raines’ life would last, at the most… hmm, three months. I didn’t feel that I couldn’t deliver such a pessimistic prognosis to anyone, especially a fragile soul like Lori Raines.

“What does it say, Doctor?”

For a moment, the question paralyzed me. Perhaps, I thought, this is how the accused must feel when confronted by an executioner.

“Tell me something,” I said. “How do you view your prognosis?”

“My what?”

“I mean, do you believe you’re sick?” I struggled to smile. “Let’s start there.”

“I know I’m sick, sure.” The gaunt woman paused and stared out the window. “But I’m going to get better, aren’t I? This is a hospital, isn’t it? Aren’t you people going to help me? Dr. Skelton doesn’t believe I’m going to get well again. But, you don’t believe that about me, do you, Dr. Spezia?”

Uneasy, frustrated and inexperienced—I felt all of those emotions and more. Was it right to infuse hope into such a bleak situation? Yet, who has a crystal ball? Could I predict any outcome with absolute certainty? Of course not. Such questions clarified my position, at least, in my mind.

“No one can predict your future, Mrs. Raines,” I said.

Ah. A bitter smile.

“I believe that each outcome is as unique as the patient. All we can do for a situation such as yours is to cite the statistics.”

Mrs. Raines nodded in agreement.

“Now, would you like to tell me why you were crying when I came into the room?”

A round of fresh tears ensued. Outside in the wide hall, the clatter of plates and utensils accompanied the hum of conversation, the occasional laugh, or even a poignant howl.

“Eddie didn’t visit me last night, Dr. Spezia.”

“You mean, Eddie—your husband, Eddie?”

She nodded, and dabbed her splotchy face with a tattered tissue. “I was wondering, could you call him? I called our house all night, but no one answered the phone. Where do you think he was?”

Though I struggled to ignore my personal feelings, I sensed the conspicuous chemistry between Eddie Raines and the woman he called
“Starr” was on her mind. Despite Eddie’s litany of explanations and excuses, his behavior disgusted me.

“Dr. Spezia?” Mrs. Raines said. “Could you…could you please call him?”

“If he doesn’t show up soon, I’ll ask the nurse to call him. I’m certain there’s a good reason for his absence. Now, let’s have a look at you, shall we?”

A bustle in the hall snagged her attention. When she turned her head, it seemed that hope had transformed her wan expression. “Maybe that’s Eddie!” she said. “Dr. Spezia, could you look and see if it’s him?”

Nurse Potts stood in the doorway. She seemed calm, but beneath the cool facade, I sensed a bubbling anxiety.

“May I help you?” I said.

“That’s not Eddie,” Mrs. Raines said.

“Will you excuse me for a moment, Mrs. Raines?” I stepped into the hall and faced Nurse Potts. “Is something wrong?” With her hands clasped together, she looked as if she was reciting a prayer.

“You free today at lunchtime, Dr. Spezia?” she said. “I need your help.”

“You need my help?”

Her broad shoulders slumped and she sighed. “I don’t ask for things I don’t need now. I watched you, standing there with Dr. Skelton, and just like that, the idea just came to me. So, what do you say? Can you help me out or not?”

“Sure. I don’t know what kind of help I can be to you, but…”

“Just meet me at the nurse’s station at noon. I need you to go with me to a place around the corner. Just stand there and look like you know what you’re doing.” She chuckled. “Something tells me you know how to do lots of that.”

“Dr. Spezia!” The sound of Mrs. Raines’ voice echoed in the cavernous hall.

“I’ve got to get back to work,” I said. “I’ll see you at noon.”

When I returned to examine Mrs. Raines, I was surprised to see
that she had actually eaten her oatmeal. Now, she was sipping ice water and watching a game show, the kind in which annoying bells dinged every thirty seconds.

“This place needs more doctors,” she remarked. “At least, more doctors like you.”

“You seem to be feeling better. Am I right about that?”

Mrs. Raines nodded her head. “Oh yes, I am.” Suddenly, she put a finger to her lips. “Oh, listen to that, Dr. Spezia. They’re fighting again.”

“Who?”

“That Nurse Potts and the doctor that’s always chasing after Starr. You know, Dr. Freeman. Just listen to them. It’s kind of funny sometimes.”

“Hey Potts, where did you go last night?” Dr. Freeman said. “I was looking for a drinking buddy.”

At the sound of his nasal voice, I envisioned Freeman. With his designer clothes and dazzling smile, he could have been a wildly successful game show host, or even an actor.

“Dr. Freeman,” Mary said, You know I got myself a life outside of this place. Had to leave at four thirty, that’s all. Takin’ care of my business.”

“Cuttin’ out early, huh? Know what I think? I think you got yourself a brand new man out there somewhere. That’s what I think.”

“Mind your own, hear?”

“Hey, I don’t care. I got a few ladies on the side myself.”

“So I hear, Doctor. Don’t you be messing with the trash, now.”

“What do you know about trash, Potts? I’ll be the judge of my own mess. Listen, I have some bad news. You’ll have to do without me while I see my worthless patients. Oh, and Potts? Better keep a closer eye on the drug cabinet. Word on the street is, your meds aren’t adding up. Not that I would know anything about it. But I hear that fingers are getting mighty sticky around here.”

“I keep the key to that cabinet ‘round my neck. Jus’ let some fool try and get it. Now get on out of here.”

“Hey Potts, check out what’s coming down the hall.”

“Dr. Freeman, I done told you to stay away from the trash.”

“Say gorgeous,” I heard Freeman say, “are you lost? Or would you just like to be?”

“Maybe,” a raspy voice replied. “You a doctor?”

“I’m only the best surgeon in this entire city. Probably the entire state. Maybe the whole country.”

“Oh yeah? How much money you make?

“A lot, Goldilocks. But money isn’t the best part of me. You can quote me on that.”

“Freeman!” Nurse Potts bustled down the hall with a scowl on her broad face. Her stocky legs never moved so fast. “I said, stay away from the trash. If you can’t do that, at least take it out back where I don’t have to look at it.”

Now, the familiar clack, clack, clack of high heels on the terrazzo floor sounded much closer.

“Oh no, Skinny Legs, you can’t be walking your tight pants in there with Dr. Spezia. Hey, you come on back!”

“Hey Mary! Maybe Goldilocks has a thing for our young Dr. Spezia?”

“Dr. Freeman, what you be saying to nobody? You got no business in Miz Raines’ room, so get on wherever you supposed to be, because it ain’t here. You look like a shark circling the King Tuna. Why you out here all by yourself?”

Freeman flashed a wicked grin. “Just waiting to take out the trash,” he said.

When Starr arrived, I decided to stay in Mrs. Raines’ room a bit longer. The more I learned about this situation, the less I understood, and the more the outcome mattered to me. Now, Mrs. Raines began to describe a recent visit from a neighbor I had yet to meet, a Mrs. Dottie Pennybaker.

“Dr. Spezia,” she said, “if I tell you what Dottie told me last night, you won’t tell anyone, will you?”

I knew my answer to her question didn’t matter—I would need to listen, anyway. “No, of course not. Please go on.” What did Mrs. Pennybaker say? I felt like I was listening to my mother, or Rosa, my sister. As a child from a large extended family, I witnessed the hushed whispers of my mother’s friends and relatives on a regular basis. My gut instincts sensed the sharp blade of vicious gossip, preparing to graze the neck of another victim. In truth, nothing Mrs. Pennybaker could say surprise me.

First, Dottie provided a detailed update on the juiciest neighborhood gossip. Next, she raved about the fried okra at the Howard J’s, just down the road. When I told Mrs. Raines that I didn’t see why Mrs. Pennybaker needed to talk about fried okra, she began to whimper and sob. She told me that Dottie said she saw Eddie and Starr together, at that very same Howard J’s, that very same night. Of course, she asked Dottie what they were doing. “Well, Baby Girl,” the plump dowager whispered, “I just need to go back and start at the very beginning.” She shook her bovine head, plopped on the hump at the top of her spine. “’Cause you just won’t believe this!”

“Mrs. P. brought me those daisies over there,” Mrs. Raines said. “Pretty, huh? And then, she started yammering on about stopping on the way back from visiting her son and his wife—they had a new baby and Dottie went to help out…well, Mrs. Raines said, you know how that goes, Doctor.”

“Yes, I knew that part of the story well,” I replied. “Please go on.”

“And then, Dottie told me how she asked Eddie to pull off the highway because she saw it was “Fried Okra Night—
All You Can Eat
—at Howard J’s. It’s right there by the car dealer—you know, Doctor, the one with all those holiday sales and the special financing? No? Well, it doesn’t matter. After the Pontiac, I’m not sure I’d recommend the place. Anyway,
Howard J’s
is the long orange building with the lights that blink off and on, even in the day time. Sits on the corner by the Baptist church and the donut shop. Just wait till you hear this…

Dottie Pennybaker smoothed her rumpled skirt and glanced over both shoulders. Her throaty voice grew hoarse, before it faded to a whisper. “I’ll tell you something, Baby Girl. I almost didn’t look, but, heaven help me, I’m so glad I did. Because right then, Lori, I said to myself, could that man be Eddie Raines? He certainly looks like the same simple-minded fool—but that tramp he’s with, well, she isn’t Lori. Lori doesn’t look like a two-bit…well, forget I said that, hon. That just wasn’t nice of me, was it? I saw those two cheats holding hands on the way in, but I never said anything to nobody. You know how women can be, with a piece of hot, fresh gossip. Why, Lori, if I were you, being sick and all, I wouldn’t want anyone to know. By the way, are you getting any better? Gal, I surely hope so. Because they way they were carrying on, well, I surely wouldn’t want my husband putting his hands all over…oh my! Oh Lori, I should just stop right there. No use for caterwauling, Baby Girl. I never really saw them do anything. They were just in the restaurant. You know, the one attached to the motel.”

“Motel? Did you say motel?”