The Doctor's Tale

by Claire Applewhite

  “Well, it surprises the crap out of me. Ya’ll act so ho-hum about the whole thing, but let me tell you something, Doc—I was—and still am—in love with the Starr that I knew. You didn’t know her like I did.”

  For a moment, I considered the man that stood before me. I decided I didn’t need to break his heart for him. He was doing a fine job of it all by himself. “No, Eddie, you’re right. I didn’t. But, that is neither here nor there. The important thing now is that you take care of yourself.”

  “But, I can’t just walk away from Starr. Not when she needs me the most.”

  I slapped him on the back. “C’mon, I’ll help you get a taxi home.”

  “That’s good of you, Doc. But I’m going to visit Starr before I go. I can take the bus. See you later.”

  I watched Eddie Raines shuffle down the corridor to the ICU. There was no stopping him, I knew that. Eddie would have to find out all by himself. It was like watching a man jump off of a cliff and waiting for the inevitable crash landing. Well, it wouldn’t be long before I heard one. I turned and strolled to the parking lot to find my car. Suddenly, I felt very tired.

  Eddie knew he should go home. All he really felt like doing was getting drunk. Hell, maybe just staying that way forever. He didn’t care if it was the cancer that killed him or pneumonia or yellow fever. He’d made a mess of his life and he deserved to die, is what he thought. But, before he left for the night, he had to know one thing.

  Eddie waited until they all left—Dr. Kinney, the head nurse, and the aide, before he slipped into the room where Starr lay in a bed with tubes and wires coming out of every inch of skin and the sheets. Looked that way to him, anyway. “I love you, Starr,” he said, loud enough for her to hear. He waited for a sign that she knew he was there. As sick as his Lori got, Eddie felt she knew when he was there. Even if they never talked, he could feel the words between them, like some kind of an unbreakable bond.

  He didn’t feel anything like that now, no matter how hard he tried to make it happen. With Lori, he never had to try to make anything happen. He realized that now. He realized something else, too. All along, what he really wanted was his Lori back, the way she used to be—all full of herself, pushing life to the line. Standing there, alone and lonely, he shivered in the shadows. He wanted the Hand of Fate to return what it stole from him: Lori, his wife, the love of his life. Until now, he’d thought that Starr could take her place. You’re a fool, Raines, he chided himself. Such a danged fool.

  “Hey!” A voice echoed in the empty corridor. “What’re you doing in there?”

  Eddie turned and watched Dr. Freeman stagger towards him, his lips pulled back in a sneer.

  “I don’t need your help, you wimp. I got this…situation…under control.” His eyes looked glassy, and his words sounded slurred. “Now, get the hell outta here.”

  For a moment, Eddie hesitated. Who would look after Starr? Freeman couldn’t look after himself. Dr. Spezia, Dr. Kinney, and Nurse Potts were all gone for the day. He gazed at Starr, and for the second time, felt nothing. He didn’t understand it, and he couldn’t change it. Apparently, Starr felt that way about him for the past two or three months.

  He strode out of the room as freely as Dr. Freeman stumbled into it. Dr. Spezia was right. It was time to think about Eddie for a change. He opened the cold glass door. The night air blasted his face.

  He lit the end of a cigarette and started walking.

  When Eddie finally boarded the bus that would take him most of the way back to his bungalow in south St. Louis, the sky looked ominous. The crisp air smelled like fresh snow. He slid across the worn seat of the creaky bus, and nodded at the couple behind him. They were holding hands, he noticed that. In his entire life, he never felt more alone.

  He coughed again and fumbled in his coat pocket for another handkerchief, maybe a piece of paper towel or a tissue, anything. The dark blood stained his hand. He wiped it on a stray piece of newspaper. It felt peaceful, riding the bus like this, and Eddie considered just staying on for a while. Who knew where he might end up? There wasn’t any reason for him to care anymore—except perhaps Dr. Spezia. Dr. Spezia, yeah. Eddie felt badly about all that had transpired between them, especially since it turned out that, all along, he’d been right about Starr.

  “Craziness, that’s what that was,” he murmured under his breath. From his seat, he spotted the corner liquor store, the one that sold that cheap wine Starr liked so much. He decided to get off the bus a few blocks early and buy a couple, or maybe even three bottles, in her honor. That should be enough to toast the beginning of the end of whatever it was they had together. He rose from his seat. Hungry and dizzy, he collapsed on the slick vinyl.

  “Hey, you okay back there?” the driver said.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Eddie said. He struggled to his feet. “I’m okay. Just lost my balance for a few seconds there. I’ll be getting off at the next stop.”

  “You by yourself?”

  “Sure thing.”

  “What happened to that little blonde you like to run around with, huh?”

  “She’s…she’s—”

  The driver grinned. “That’s okay. Save it for later. Just buy her some nice flowers. She’ll forget everything.”

  Eddie hustled down the steps of the bus. His cheeks felt raw and chapped. Oh, the things he wanted to say! Don’t worry about the little blonde, oh no. She forgot everything already. But what about him, huh? He wanted to forget everything, all of it, and make a fresh start. Next time, he’d know better. He wouldn’t make dumb mistakes. At least, not the same ones.

  He pushed the glass door of the liquor store and maneuvered his way through the maze of bottles and boxes. He snatched three wine bottles from a pile in a wire bin and approached the counter, contemplating his new outlook. After seconds of serious consideration, he reached a conclusion. Undoubtedly, he would make the same dumb mistakes. It was his nature to learn everything the hard way. He was the kind of guy that had to experience pain to believe it hurt.

  Only two blocks to walk, and he would be at home. It wouldn’t take too long. Dang, he felt weary. Weary, and he guessed he was pretty sick, too. As much as he hated to admit it, yeah, he had the cancer. But did it matter? Nope. Not to one single person, especially himself.

  He sensed a presence behind him. Was someone following him? He glanced over his shoulder, and then to the right and left. No one. He was just beaten down by the events of the day, that’s all. Who wouldn’t be?

  Ten minutes later, one bottle of wine was gone. He hadn’t even bothered to pour it into a glass. No point, really. To Eddie, the major reason he bought three cheap bottles of wine was to get drunk, as fast as possible. He uncorked the second bottle and swigged half without tasting, his head cocked backwards, his throat open to receive the elixir. Hit me, he thought. Just hit me. Nothing can hurt me anymore.

  That’s when he thought he saw Lori.

  Eddie blinked. Hard. He blinked again. It was Lori, all right. There she stood, smiling so sweet, like she used to, the way he liked to remember her. An ethereal glow emanated from her filmy figure. Not a halo, exactly—Eddie couldn’t have said exactly what it was, if someone, like say Dr. Spezia, pressed him to describe it. He guessed he would say it was a pale glimmer of light, maybe like a spent firecracker.

  “This isn’t funny, Lori,” he said. And it ain’t very nice, neither. Now, I know you aren’t real, but if you are, you stay right where you are. I mean, I guess you went away somewhere for awhile, and now, it seems you’re back, so I guess you know all about what’s been going on.” He gulped some more of the wine and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’ll have to excuse me, baby. I’m getting stinking drunk—yeah, I am. I just left Starr to die in the danged hospital.”

  The filmy shadow didn’t nod or move. Yet, Eddie felt sure it was Lori, come back to visit him, just like she said she would. He sure didn’t expect her to look like this.

  Eddie’s hands trembled so badly, he could
barely hold the wine bottle.

  “Baby, aren’t you cold, dressed like that? “Lori—do you know about me? I mean, what Spezia told me about the cancer? Eddie felt stunned; and yet, he was not afraid. This was Lori, after all. “You think I got it, baby?”

  The apparition seemed to fade as quickly as it appeared. Eddie tipped his head backwards and finished what remained of the second bottle. He would bet his Pontiac, he just saw Lori. Now, all he saw was a blank wall. Either he just talked to his wife, he was drunk, or he was crazy. Well, what the heck! A man could pick all three, couldn’t he? He wondered with all his heart if the dead could talk to the living. More importantly, who would he ask about such things? Only one name appeared on the radar screen in his mind.

  Thomas Spezia, M.D. He would call him—yeah—after he got some sleep and cleared his head. He reached for the third bottle of wine and stumbled on a throw rug in front of Lori’s chair. Eddie collapsed in the cluttered living room, surrounded by shattered glass. Blood trickled from his face, where jagged shards of the wine bottle gashed his cheek and mouth. Slowly, a crimson pool of blood seeped around his neck and his face, and finally, his head. Eddie could not breathe, nor could he take a breath. Time for him to call it a life.

  TWENTY-THREE

  The phone blared like a fire alarm, but I didn’t hear it. Three beers and half of a pepperoni and mushroom pizza with extra cheese, coupled with chronic sleep deprivation, were all the sedatives I needed. Gabrielle grabbed the receiver from the phone beside the bed.

  “Hello?”

  “Yes, is Dr. Spezia around, please?” I heard the loud voice through the receiver.

  “I’ll see if I can wake him up.”

  “It’s important. Please tell him that.”

  “Sure,” Gabrielle said. “Just a moment, please.” A steady rain pattered on the slate roof of the apartment building. The crash of thunder startled me into a foggy haze of semi-consciousness.

  “What in the world?” I turned and stared at Gabrielle. “Who’s on the phone?”

  “It’s for you.”

  “I’m not on call.” I sat up and rubbed his temples. “Am I?”

  “Hey, don’t ask me about your schedule. She says it’s important.”

  “She who?”

  Gabrielle offered the receiver to me. “Here you go. I am not your secretary.”

  I accepted the receiver and pressed it to my ear. “Dr. Spezia here,” he said. “Oh yeah. Hi, Mary. What did you just say?”

  Gabrielle approached the bed. “What? What is it, Tom?”

  “No, don’t call anybody else in. I’ll come.” I slammed down the receiver. “Freeman overdosed.”

  “Who’s Freeman?”

  I threw on a scrub shirt and ran a comb through my hair. “You never had the pleasure of meeting him, huh?”

  “No, do I want to?”

  “Well, I’m a little surprised you never ran into him, with all of the drugs that he bought. Maybe sold, who knows?”

  “He probably stole them from the hospital, didn’t he?”

  “It’s not as easy as you might think for an addict to get the amounts they need that way. I’m sure he dealt with folks in the hospital parking lot. He didn’t have to go to the dealers. They came to him.”

  Gabrielle slipped on her shoes. She checked to ensure that her gun was in her purse. “You want to take the patrol car? I can turn on the sirens that way.”

  “Hey, why not? It seems a little shady, but I need to get there. Fast. Let’s just go. This is an emergency—at least in theory.”

  “I haven’t used them yet this year. Let’s see if they really work.”

  Six minutes later, the patrol car screeched to a halt outside the entrance to the Emergency Room. I opened the door before it stopped completely.

  “Thanks, gotta go,” I said.

  “I’ll sit out here for a while,” Gabrielle said. I was halfway to the entrance when I turned to speak to her.

  “I’ll come out and let you know what’s going on.” “Remember to put your flaps up,” Gabrielle said.

  If he could fly, she thought, he would. Nothing is ever fast enough for him. While she considered whether to stay or go home, she noticed three teenagers smoking outside the clinic door. Probably 13 or 14 years old and already smoking. When they disbanded and moved behind the large dumpsters, she got a better look: two black guys, one tall and lanky, the other a bit pudgy, and one scrawny looking white boy.

  What was that glint she saw reflected in her side mirror? The white boy flashed a pistol at the two black boys. It shined like a silver dollar in the moonlight. No way did it belong to him. No way should he be where he was, holding what he had—a punk with a pistol. Gabrielle watched while the white boy hid in the bushes and the two black guys flanked the entrance to the Emergency Room. It looked like a setup.

  She wasn’t on duty. She sure wasn’t dressed for this. Yet, she was here, and she didn’t like what she saw—not at all. She reached for the car radio. “Officer at City Hospital Number 1, do you copy?”

  Static, static, and then—

  “Officer at City Hospital Number 1, I read you.”

  “Officer request for backup,” she said. She reached into her purse for her gun.

  “On the way, Officer.”

  Her trigger finger clicked the safety OFF.

  Through the glass, she glimpsed Spezia, making his way to the ER entrance. Her foot mashed the accelerator. The red and blue lights flashed and the patrol car wedged between the entrance and the three boys. Sirens whined while one, two, four, and then six more police cars surrounded them. All three teenagers tried to run; all three met with handcuffs.

  Her partner approached her, on the way to his car. He had the white boy in custody.

  “Nice work, Burns,” he said. “But I thought you took the day off.”

  The white boy spat on the ground and glared at Gabrielle.

  “You a cop?” he said. “I got busted by a girl?”

  “Careful, Shorty,” Archie said. “Maybe you’d like it better if I busted you, is that it?” He tossed him in the backseat of the car like a bag of cheap laundry. “Think about it on the way to the station.”

  “What’d you do with Pinky and Rat?”

  “Don’t you worry about them.”

  “They’re the ones got the blow.”

  “You mean the coke?”

  The boy’s lips curled in a sneer. “They got a call from a guy named Freeman. We supposed to meet him here. He never showed up.”

  “Who’s Freeman?” Archie said.

  The white boy pointed to Spezia. “Maybe that’s him.”

  “No,” Gabrielle said. “That is definitely not him.”

  Despite the flashing lights and chaos, Spezia’s demeanor remained grim.

  “Freeman’s dead,” was all he could say. “I can’t believe it.”

  Gabrielle stared at him for a moment. “I thought you didn’t like him, Tom.”

  “I don’t think I ever really knew him. And now, I never will.” He turned to the boy in the car and glimpsed the handcuffs. “You were here last week. Don’t tell me you came back. What did I say about one too many times?”

  “I didn’t hear you say nothing,” the boy said.

  “Let me tell you something. If you want to end up in a body bag, keep doing what you’re doing. Maybe if you’re really lucky, you’ll end up like a woman I know in the ICU, and have a massive stroke. Then you can be paralyzed for the rest of your life.”

  “You’re just trying to scare me.” He spat on the floor of the police car. “You’re full of—”

  At that moment, a gurney appeared at the entrance to the Emergency Room.

  “Now, I’ve got to go sign papers to release Freeman’s body.”

  The boy stared at the mound on the gurney, swathed in a black shroud.

  “That’s him? That’s Freeman?”

  I turned to face him. “Not anymore. That’s what’s left of Freeman.” From the corner of his
eye, he glimpsed the two black guys while they were escorted into the waiting patrol cars. “Your friends?”

  “Daddy!”

  One of the guys waved to a toddler in a stroller. He was sitting parked in the entrance to the ER, not far from Freeman’s gurney. A skinny black girl with a gap between her two front teeth stood behind it.

  “La Shawne! You in trouble, baby?” she said.

  He shook his head and the cop shoved him into the backseat. The toddler began to shriek.

  “Daddy! Want my Daddy!”

  “I hope you’re happy,” the white boy said. “LaShawne was gonna give his girlfriend some cash from this score.” He spat on the handcuffs. “Now this.”

  “Well, I got a call to take care of a guy having a seizure,” I said. “But he died before I could help him.” He pointed to the gurney. “Now this.”

  I turned to Gabrielle. “Let’s go home.”

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Early the next morning, Mary Potts tiptoed into Starr’s room. The silence haunted her. A mysterious pall hovered in the air. Mary found it incomprehensible, until she inspected the IV. Someone ripped it from Starr’s thin arm. Fury surged in her like a volcano ready for an eruption. Who would do such a thing? Fools, all of them. Fools.

  She knew all too well. Or at least, she had her suspicions. If you asked her, she thought while she restarted the IV, struggling to find a “good” vein, that crackhead Freeman did it, just before he injected his own no good self. Bad thing to speak ill of the dead. Yes, Lawd. But, she couldn’t help herself this morning. She would never forget calling Dr Spezia and dragging him in after two days of working like a dog. Man came in, too. She shook her head. When she first met him, she would have bet her house he didn’t have what it took to be a doctor anywhere, much less City Hospital. But she was wrong about him. Dead wrong.

  She straightened the IV bag and squeezed it a bit. To her, Starr looked dead. If she unplugged the breathing machine that kept Starr alive, she would die. There in the shadows, all alone, Mary considered such a move. It wasn’t completely right. Mary knew that, but she despised white trash like Starr Hixson. The way she treated Miss Lori, stealing her husband the way she did, making her cry and feel so bad when she had the cancer, she deserved to die. She’d caused enough grief on this earth, her and her tight white pants. Lord knows, nobody would miss her. It would be a service to the community, sure would. Mary’ gaze fixed on the electrical outlet that powered the ventilator. One quick swipe and—