LOST TO THE WORLD

by Libby Sternberg

  He waved the gun near her face, and she took in a sharp breath. She picked up her pace.

  “The Polk School up there near Pittsburgh. You know what I’m talking about.” He nodded as he caught her flicker of recognition. “You’re like me. You lap up any crumb of information about this disease. You know as well as I do. That doctor in Pittsburgh…”

  “Dr. Salk…” she panted.

  “Dr. Salk injected kids at the Polk School for the Feeble-minded.”

  “He got permission first!”

  Earl laughed. “Right. Permission from the state of Pennsylvania. What kind of mother is that? Didn’t take much to get them to say go ahead. The murdering bastards.”

  “The tests were good. They…they led to the trials…the ones they’re starting…” She could barely speak from the effort at walking, but she wanted to keep talking to him, to keep him rational. Maybe she could reason with him eventually? Oh, god, could she?

  “How do you know the ‘tests were good?’ Because they told you, the doctors here? Hill? Your boss? Lying bastards.”

  They wouldn’t lie. She trusted them. They were trying to do good, to save lives, to prevent crippling….They wouldn’t lie. Would they?

  As if reading her mind, he continued, “In ’35 the doctors all said they were doing it for the public good. They all said they were going to keep us from getting polio.” He shook his cane at her. “But they didn’t. They did the opposite. And worse!” He continued to prod her through darkened hallways where researchers and technicians had left for the day.

  “They didn’t know….”

  “They don’t know now. They knew enough back then to know that using monkey brains and the like was inviting trouble. Oh yeah, I read about it, too. Just like you. Scouring newspapers and magazines and whatever to find out anything we can about this project.” He grunted in disgust. “Do you know why we do that?”

  She shook her head, willing herself to stay strong, trying to figure out what to say.

  “Because we think we’ll read something that will give us hope! Something that will let us believe we’ll be whole again once they get this puzzle solved.”

  “That’s not true,” she whispered.

  But it was. It was an awful truth, one she’d refused to face, happy in the knowledge she was working for men who were making progress on the disease. But it was progress that would never benefit her or Earl. If anything, a vaccine would kill hope for them entirely.

  Once the disease could be prevented, who would care about victims any longer? They would become lost to the world, forgotten.

  Earl had already hit one target without firing a shot—her misplaced hope.

  “Keep walking.” He held the gun steady now and his voice changed.

  “Where to?”

  “Straight, then right up ahead.”

  She did as he said. He was forcing her toward the front of the hospital. He seemed to know every cul-de-sac and back stairwell. He led her up and around and over and up again, doubling back sometimes, always avoiding the actual hospital wards, taking her past darkened offices, closed doors, and shadowed corners. She was breathless and sweating from the effort. She noticed his breathing coming faster. Even with a cane, he found all this walking hard, too.

  “Where are you taking me?” Her throat was dry and her leg ached from all the stair climbing. Her hand trembled on the banister. He noticed.

  “People don’t realize how much effort it takes to make up for lost muscles.”

  “You must be tired too.” She tried glancing over her shoulder but when she did he scurried up behind and jammed the gun into her rib cage.

  “I’m hardly breaking a sweat. You’re hurting, though, aren’t you?”

  “I’d like to rest.” Maybe if they paused, she could reason with him. He was, after all, like her, a fellow polio. They’d shared a few moments of understanding before.

  He laughed. “Bet you don’t admit that to most folks, do you? You keep up the cheerful face, the happy-to-be-alive face, don’t you? The one they expected everybody to wear in the hospitals.”

  Yes, she did those things. “Where are we going?” she repeated.

  “Same kind of place I took your boss.”

  Ice cold fear prickled up her spine. “What do you mean?”

  “Now, really, Julia. I can’t allow you to tattle on me. The way you tattled on your boss.”

  “I didn’t….”

  “Of course you did. That’s how I found out about him. When the cops hauled him in for Dick Hill’s death, I heard the gossip. I didn’t know he’d been involved, too, back in ’35. Here I thought he was a decent fellow….”

  Julia stopped. Dear lord, her trail had led Earl to him. Dr. Jansen had been hurt because of her. Susan had been hurt because of….

  “Keep moving!” He shoved the gun again into her ribcage.

  “No, no, I can’t. I’m too tired.” She wanted to curl up and close her eyes. She wanted everything to stop.

  She’d been selfish and confused and lacking in the courage she arrogantly thought she had. She should have broken with Will and let Sean make a pass at her and then maybe, maybe she wouldn’t have used Dr. Jansen as an excuse to have contact with the detective….she should have….done a hundred things differently.

  “Do you want it to end right here?”

  ***

  “Earl Dagley. He tends the animals they’re using for research!”

  “No, sir. I haven’t heard of him. Did you check in? Visiting hours are over.”

  Christ almighty. The nurse was driving him mad.

  Sean had run into this nosey Florence Nightingale while double-stepping it up a staircase. When she’d asked him what he was looking for, he’d thrown the question about Earl back at her.

  “You really need to check in. Otherwise, I’ll have to report you to security.”

  “Dammit, woman, I am security.” He pulled out his badge and flashed it at her, glad he’d not handed it in earlier that day. Without waiting for a reply, he rushed past her, panicked now that he’d be too late for Julia as he’d been for Jansen. He ducked down a darkened hallway and called her name. No answer.

  He couldn’t have gotten far. Not with a bum leg. Not with her bad leg.

  ***

  “Why did you do it?” She was moving again. If she kept him talking, maybe he’d get distracted and she could reach for the gun?

  “I was making good money off of Dick. But the arrogant bastard decided he’d had enough of hiding. Thought he needed to ‘come clean,’ he told me. Make ‘restitution.’” Earl laughed. “Like that would wipe everything away.”

  “He did atone! He gave all his money to—”

  “The fucking March of Dimes. Yeah, I figured that one out, too. That doesn’t make things better. It makes them worse!”

  She could tell from his breathing that he was growing much more tired now, too. They’d climbed several staircases. They must be on the fifth floor or higher, and she thought they were headed toward the front of the hospital.

  “It was an accident,” she improvised. “Killing Dr. Lowen—Dr. Hill. People will understand. You were upset. You had a right to be upset.” She saw a door up ahead and knew now where they were—at the top tier of octagonal balconies that overlooked the lobby with its statue of Christ the Healer. Why would he take her here?

  “No, you don’t understand.” He directed her to stay still while he backed open the door and glanced through. No one must have been about because he waved her through the door ahead of him. “Once I killed Dick, I decided to give Dr. Jansen a go-round, see if he’d pay up. He wasn’t too happy about it. Tried pulling this on me…” He waved the gun. “But he was a might nervous about it, and I know how to use this cane.”

  “Then that was an accident, too, Earl. People will understand. You didn’t mean to—”

  “Shut up! I damn well meant to. I was happy to see him tumble! I’m glad he’s gone.”

  He’d enjoyed killing a man. Why
did she think she could stop him from doing it to her?

  “Poor Doctor Jansen,” Earl said sarcastically, urging her forward, toward the balcony. “Broke his neck.”

  She couldn’t look over the edge. Even before the polio, she’d been afraid of heights. Her head swam and she gripped the railing with both hands behind her.

  ***

  He took whatever hallway or staircase was darkened or empty. Earl wouldn’t lead her around other people. He wouldn’t risk her calling out. He himself called her name at every intersection, ever corner. Nothing. Stone silence.

  ***

  “Earl…I’m not going to say anything. I swear it. It will be our secret. Between us polios.”

  “You have two choices,” he said in a voice as cold as death itself. “You jump or I push you.”

  “People will know you did it….”

  “Yeah, how? Nobody knows who the hell I am. Me and my brother were just numbers in a book, not real people. Even Dr. Jansen didn’t recognize me. Didn’t know I was one of the kids he’d poisoned.”

  “But they’ll know I wouldn’t…wouldn’t do this.” Her back was to the balcony. Far below was the statue of Christ the Healer, his arms extended, welcoming the sick and their loved ones to this place of healing. She prayed to Christ now, desperate, inarticulate prayers. Help me, help me, beating in the back of her mind like an ostinato. I’ll appreciate life now. I won’t give up.

  “They’ll just figure you gave up at last. You stopped trying.”

  “But my family and everyone here…” She nodded toward the hospital beyond but couldn’t bring herself to release her grip on the railing, “they all know I’m a fighter, that I wouldn’t give up….”

  “Stop it, Julia. You can’t fool me. I know what it was like. I’ve got a second-degree burn on my back from one of them hot packs. Oh yeah, I remember it like it was yesterday. Getting pushed and pulled this way and that and hell to pay if you don’t do exactly what they want. That’s not fighting, Julia. That’s giving in.” He narrowed his eyes and pointed the gun at her chest. “Admit it.”

  When she said nothing, he shouted at her. “Tell. The. Damn. Truth.”

  “It was hard but…”

  “Stop. Pretending!” he yelled, and she hoped someone would hear. “Admit it was awful. Tell the fucking truth!”

  “All right, all right!” She was so afraid. And he was right. It had been horrible. She was sick of pretending it hadn’t been, sick of trying to look happy. Tears ran down her cheeks. “Yes. It was awful. It was….”

  “Tell me what you remember,” he sneered. “The truth. Not the shit they showed to the world in movie reels. How long were you in?”

  “Nearly a year.”

  “How did they treat you? Gently? Like a baby learning to walk?” he asked, waving the gun.

  “No.”

  “Tell me!”

  “They…..” She stopped, swallowed, struggled for control. She remembered how alone she’d felt, how she’d wanted to tell her parents, her sisters how awful it was but she couldn’t. She couldn’t because she knew she was supposed to feel lucky to be alive and every other patient was trying so hard. Surely there was something wrong with her, mentally, if she wasn’t happy to be trying, no matter how hard it hurt. “They made me pick myself up…”

  “After you’d fallen. Yeah. How many times?”

  She didn’t need him to explain. He was asking the most number of times she had fallen in one therapy session. “Twenty-two.”

  “And they probably would have let you lie on the floor in your own shit rather than help you up.”

  Messy tears stained her blouse. The therapist was cruel. And so damned happy about it. Now, Julia, nobody will be around to help you once you get out of here. You need to learn to cope…..

  She’d been black and blue that night, aching in body and spirit. Humiliated, she’d sobbed herself to sleep.

  She was sobbing now.

  “And you probably thought that maybe dying would have been easier.” His voice was lower now, but harder, too.

  Yes, she had thought that. On that night, she had wondered why she’d been so stubborn about living. It had seemed like a vice, not a virtue, and living as a cripple would be penance for that sin, the sin of clinging to something too hard when it had been meant to be taken away.

  “Yes, I did,” she said, her voice trembling.

  “You wanted to die,” he repeated, victorious.

  She cried, nodded, looked at the floor where her withered foot served as a constant reminder of her stubbornness. Not an asset at all.

  “Yes, yes, I did.” She was sobbing now. “Are you happy? Yes, I had moments when I didn’t want to live!”

  “Drop the gun, Earl!” Sean’s voice, strong and safe, came from below.

  ***

  He’d heard it all. The confession. Julia’s admission of despair. And he somehow felt responsible for this, too, for putting her in danger and forcing her to voice these thoughts that she’d hidden from the world. If he’d kept Jansen in custody…

  He stood on a balcony below them, his gun pointed toward Earl. It was too far. He couldn’t risk the shot. Julia might get hurt.

  “Let her go, Earl. Let’s you and me talk.”

  “You’re the one who should go. Or I’ll plug the girl.”

  “It’s over,” Sean called. “A squad’s on the way,” he lied. “All that’s left is you dropping the gun.”

  Silence.

  Then a blur of action. Earl was forcing Julia somewhere else, out of range.

  “Earl! They’ll understand. I read the records. I know what they did to you and your brother.”

  He heard the movement above him cease. And then Earl’s face appeared over the edge. His arm was still pointed away from the balcony. He had the gun on Julia.

  “They’re going to do it to thousands more in just a few weeks!”

  “You can warn them, Earl. You can’t do that if you’re dead.”

  “Winchell already warned them.”

  “But it’s not the same as someone who’s been through it.”

  “You got children?”

  “Two boys.”

  “Will you take them for the shots?”

  After what he’d heard, what he’d read…no. But he said nothing.

  “The government’s ordered thousands of little white coffins,” Earl said. “Did you know that?”

  “I heard rumors….”

  Julia’s voice now. “That’s not true. There are no coffins…”

  Dammit, shut up, Julia.

  But her interjection made Earl turn his head away from Sean. Just a split second chance, the only chance. Sean took it and squeezed the trigger.

  Earl dropped his gun over the side and groaned, grabbing his arm. Sean had winged him.

  “Run, Julia!” Sean called out to her and aimed again for Dagley.

  But she couldn’t run. She’d never be able to do that, whether it was a murderer or a child on her tail.

  Earl reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder, trying to wrestle his arm around her neck.

  Sean froze, not knowing whether to stay where he was or run up to help her. He was about to take the latter course, when he heard her scream. He watched in horror as they struggled by the railing, her back pinned perilously over the edge, the slightest push able to upset her balance. Dagley yelled something to Sean about letting her fall if Sean didn’t leave. He couldn’t leave. He couldn’t do anything.

  Dammit. He couldn’t not do anything. He held his gun with both hands, aimed it, and…

  And then with a mighty shove, Julia pushed Earl to the side. Now he was the one leaning back against the rail. He reached out for her, grabbed her by the collar, but she would have none of it. She pressed both hands against his shoulders and pushed with all her might away from him, grunting with the effort.

  In a moment that seemed to stretch for hours, his body teetered on the railing, and he tried to balance himself with his grip, unable to
counter the weight of his upper body. It was too late. He twisted backwards over the edge and fell, a rush, a blur, an image neither would forget.

  He didn’t scream. He didn’t utter a sound. He just fell, landing with a hard thud at the feet of Christ the Healer.

  Blood pooled around his head, but his legs lay perfectly straight as if they’d never been crippled, as if he was healed at last, a final sacrifice offered at the altar in this temple of science.

  Sean heard her whisper “oh, no,” and saw her at the edge, covering her mouth with her hand, and then sinking slowly to her knees, her hand grasping the railing. He ran back through the door and up the stairs, racing to her side, until he knelt by her, cradling her in his arms.

  She was hysterical with shock and grief. She kept muttering “I didn’t mean to…” and he stroked her hair and kissed her forehead.

  “It wasn’t your fault,” he whispered, thinking, No, it was mine. All mine. I’m the guilty one.

  “Julia, Julia,” he said to her. “I’m here. I’ll take care of you. Don’t fret, my sweet. I’ll take care of you.”

  Epilogue

  A WEEK AFTER HE’D RESCUED Julia Dell from Earl Dagley, Sean looked at himself in the mirror and adjusted his cap. He remembered the first time Mary had seen him in his blues. She’d been standing on the corner of Broadway and Patterson, out shopping with her aunt. Her face had been drawn down with fatigue, but when she’d realized he was standing there in his neat uniform, a smile had transformed her into a delighted child. She’d even raised her hands together as if to clap. He’d never felt so proud, not even later in his Army uniform on parade.

  What would Julia think of him if she saw him like this? He didn’t want to know. Had to push that thought away.

  Danny came in the bathroom and hugged his leg. “You going to get bad guys?” he asked, fingering the heavy buttons on the jacket and yawning.

  It was evening, and the boys would be going to bed as soon as Mrs. Creed arrived. He wished he could go to bed, too. This night shift was running him into the ground. And he wasn’t sure how much longer the Creed woman would stand for it.