Wake the Dawn

by Lauraine Snelling

  Ben cleared his throat, hoping to sound firm. “It did. You at the clinic yet?”

  “No. I just woke up.”

  Breakfast sack in hand, he bailed out of his truck and headed around the corner of the building for the front door. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t enter the back door by the offices, but his feet carried him this direction. “You still there, Esther?”

  A big sniff, nose blowing, and she answered. Her yes sounded more like a little girl than a grown woman, one who’d saved lives and handled crises; if it wasn’t with ease, at least she’d handled them. Despite what was going on in her head. One of these days they would have to talk about that.

  The little-girl voice firmed up a bit. “Where are you?”

  “Entering headquarters.”

  “If anyone asks, tell them I’m awake and will be in to the clinic as soon as I shower and dress.”

  “And eat breakfast and drink some coffee. Lots of coffee.”

  “Tell Jenny thanks for the fresh coffeepot. And spending the night.”

  “I will. In fact I just walked in the front door and she’s glaring at me now. Bye.” He flipped his phone shut and crossed the room.

  “Everything all right?” Jenny asked from behind the front counter.

  He nodded. “That was Esther.” Interesting, she’d never called him before, at least not for a long time. “She’s not happy with my medical decision.”

  “Didn’t figure she would be. But ultimately, good decision. I woke up during the night and looked in on her. She looked good. She was sleeping soundly when I left.” She raised a finger telling him to wait while she answered a call. She nodded, as if the caller could see her assent. She hung up. “They’re gathering in the briefing room, waiting for someone. Go ahead and finish your breakfast.” She stopped. “How’s our baby?”

  His eyebrows climbed up his forehead. This felt amazingly like a normal day in here where nothing looked changed. But there would never again be the normal they had known. “Ansel called her a little pig because she eats so fast. She has the most beautiful eyes.” He plopped down on the sofa beside her desk and unwrapped the rest of his breakfast. Bacon egg cheese croissant. Someday he would order his own breakfast—not a bacon egg cheese croissant—but this would do.

  “You’re getting too attached to her.”

  “I’m already permanently attached to her. You feed her, change her, dandle her, and you’re attached. Trust me on this.”

  The phone rang and she answered it. What would she have said, had she not been diverted?

  Actually, the croissant wasn’t bad. He heard the back door slam and people talking as he wiped grease off his fingers with the inadequate little enclosed napkin. He headed down the hall to the conference room with a heavy heart bordering on fear. What would this day bring?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Esther rifled through a closet even tinier than the one she called her office, looking for a decent lab coat. Nothing. The best she could come up with was blue scrubs. She slipped into the top of a set so that she’d look halfway like a medical person, but she would not wear the baggy pants. She hated those one-size-fits-nobody scrub pants.

  More or less in uniform, she walked out to the waiting room. Barbara at the desk was handing forms across to an angry woman. She waved a hand. “Mrs. Applegate and Sarah here are our only patients at the moment.”

  Time to put on her public face. She smiled. “Hello, Gladys, Sarah.” They both scowled at her, but then Gladys Applegate scowled at everyone all the time. She sighed. So it was going to be one of those days. “Show them back to one then, please.”

  Barbara handed her the folder as she went out. Coffee should be ready. On the way down the hall to the break room, she opened the folder. She was to give fifteen-year-old Sarah a female examination and test for sexually transmitted diseases. That was worth another sigh. She’d rather thought Sarah kept her nose clean.

  She swilled some coffee and walked down to one, tapped, and went in. Sarah sat on the exam table with her legs dangling, and scowling Gladys perched rigidly on the front half of the chair.

  The world was upside down and skewed, Esther’s nerves were on edge despite a night’s sleep, and she did not, absolutely did not need Gladys Applegate just now. “Gladys…” She licked her lips. “I’m going to have to ask you to wait out in the waiting room. I’m sure—”

  “This is my daughter, and I will remain. I want to know.”

  “You will know. Your daughter turned fifteen two months ago. Do you remember when you were fifteen?” She did not add, it was so long ago. “You would have felt mortified if your mother watched over the doctor’s shoulder as she examined your most private parts. I will spare Sarah that embarrassment. Please wait outside. We will then sit down in my office together and discuss the visit.”

  It would seem that Gladys’s world was no closer to upright than Esther’s, but with total grumpiness, she left.

  Sarah watched the door close. “Thank you.”

  “Sarah, I’m sorry, but I do have to do the exam. Would you undress, please? Can you tell me why your mother brought you in here?” She pulled on gloves.

  “She thinks I’m having sex, why else?” She squirmed out of her top.

  “Wait. Let me look at your top half and you can put that back on.” No hickeys, no bite marks, nothing sordid whatever. Clean. “Why does she think that?”

  Sarah slipped back into her bra. “I got a text message from a boy who wants to date me. She saw it and wigged out. I guess she took it seriously.” She pulled her top back on and stood up to remove her panties. “Skirt too?”

  “No. Incidentally, it’s a really cute skirt. I love that print.”

  “It’s my favorite.” Sarah hopped back up on the table with the ease and flexibility only a fifteen-year-old could muster.

  “Scoot down a little.” Esther guided her heels into the stirrups. She took swabs and labeled them because legally she was obliged to, but it didn’t take long. “Thank you, Sarah. You can sit up.”

  “That’s all?”

  “The law requires that I must also take blood and urine samples, so I will. But that will be all.” Esther stepped back and crossed her arms, suddenly immensely relieved. “Sarah, you are still a virgin. Did you lead your mother on that you were involved with a boy?”

  She laughed mirthlessly. “I didn’t have to lead her on, Dr. Esther, that’s for sure. She assumes stuff, whatever stuff she wants to assume. I don’t know how she saw my text message, but that’s all she needed. I’m mud now. Dirt. Less than dirt. I’m grounded for the rest of my natural life.”

  “I’m so sorry for you.” Esther peeled off her gloves. “Do boys really text that explicitly?”

  Sarah looked at her as if she had just arrived on the planet. “Sure. They want you to get all hot and excited so you go out with them and say yes. They don’t know what a big fat turn-off it is. Boys are so dumb.”

  “And not just little ones, either. Come on. Let’s get the fluid samples over with.” The boys she had to work with, too. Dennis, calling Ben in, Ben putting her to sleep against her will, so to speak. Chief dying against her wishes. All of them.

  “Dr. Esther? What does Mom mean, she’s sure that the rabbit died?”

  Fifteen minutes later, Esther ushered Sarah and the scowling Gladys Applegate into her office and closed the door. Ever since the first storm arrived and she managed to intubate Ben’s baby, she had felt intense terror, worry, frustration, doubt—you name it, she carried it. But her burden seemed to be congealing now into a single big blob of intense anger. Was that good or bad? Who knew. But she was furious at her co-workers, and angry now at Gladys. She knew all about Gladys’s negativity; her own mother was too much like that. And she no longer cared about making nice.

  “Please be seated.”

  Gladys plopped into Esther’s chair. “She’s pregnant, isn’t she!”

  Esther perched on the desk corner. “Are you familiar with the term anointing the
stick, Gladys? It replaced dying rabbits thirty years ago. Today’s pregnancy tests are quite accurate, and I can tell you positively, your daughter is not pregnant. I’ll tell you something else: She has never had sexual intercourse. Never. Her hymen is intact; rather tight, actually; her first few times will be painful.”

  Sarah turned a bit pink and tried to hide her smile. She was obviously relishing this. Curiously, so was Esther.

  Gladys fumed, “You can’t say that for certain!”

  “I can! I just did. Now let me tell you something else. My own mother accused me of things I did not do, and then she assumed I did them. I know what my feelings were, the deep sadness and anger at my own mother’s distrust, the injustice. Injustice is especially painful to young girls. I cannot imagine that you would hurt your child that badly, to cause those feelings in her. She is a delightful young woman worthy of your trust, and you do this to her! I’m furious with you. I’m sure that’s not what you came here to hear, and that is exactly why I am furious. Please go home and figure out how to apologize to your daughter. It wouldn’t hurt to take her out for ice cream, either. Let her explain to you about today’s teenagers, and sexting.”

  Gladys leaped to her feet and Esther braced for the howling diatribe sure to follow. Instead, the office door popped open.

  Dennis stood there and his face went blank. “Oops! I’m sorry; didn’t know it was a conference. Esther, people here to see you.”

  “And I want to see you. Gladys, Sarah, will you excuse me, please?”

  She marched out, grabbed Dennis by the arm, piloted him into the break room, and shut the door. “Why did you call Ben last night? You should never have done that!”

  “Because I was scared!” He came right back at her, nose-to-nose. “Really scared! Here you are, pumping away with CPR and I’m trying to get the defib on him, and you knew darn well if the defibrillator jolted him while you were touching him, you’d get zapped, too. You knew that! Especially in the rain! And when I pulled you off him, you curled up on me. Plop! I didn’t know what to do. Nobody knew what to do, so I called Ben. Even if he didn’t know what to do, he can think on his feet.” His voice rose. “Esther, nobody knew how to help you!”

  Nobody knew how to help you. That fury that tasted so delicious instantly evaporated.

  From the hallway, Yvette called, “They’re here!”

  She frowned. “Who’s here?”

  “Dr. Livingston and Dr. Ho.”

  “What do they want? Why now? It’s over…”

  “You’ll have to ask them.” Dennis even held the door for her.

  They were setting up something in the mini surgery, she couldn’t tell what. Several large white metal cases on wheels stood open. Dr. Ho was frowning as he looked around. “There she is. Hello, Esther. I didn’t realize your facilities were so primitive.”

  “And this is our most modern room. Hello, Dr. Ho. It’s good to see you.” She extended her hand for a shake. Maybe it’s good. “And Dr. Livingston. Welcome back.” She shook with the military hospital director also.

  “Here’s the buckets.” Dennis sat half a dozen big white plastic painters’ buckets inside the door and left.

  The doctors returned to their busyness, laying instruments out on the counter beside the table. Heavy-duty instruments—a big, coarse bone saw, some chisels, big scalpels and scissors, and nothing sterilized. Germs up the kazoo and apparently no one cared. She was about to ask what was going on, but for some reason, she suddenly knew. Her stomach did a little flip, and that feeling of terror snuck back in.

  Dr. Ho slid his arms into a smock, so she tied the strings in back for him as he tied Dr. Livingston’s. Neither put on a surgical mask.

  She looked from face to face. “Why?”

  Dr. Ho studied the floor a moment. “Esther, you’re a brilliant woman. You excelled in medical school, top of your class as a PA. You’re quick and analytical. For example, we didn’t have to tell you just now why we’re here. You know.”

  “But I don’t know why.”

  “That’s what I’m telling you. You’re too good a doctor to lose. I phoned your assistant, Barbara, on a routine matter, and we talked about you some. You see, Dr. Livingston and I both understand about PTSD. We’ve seen it a hundred times.”

  “A thousand times, in my case; I’m a military doctor,” Dr. Livingston chimed in.

  Dr. Ho nodded. “A common part of post-traumatic stress disorder is the feeling that it’s your fault. Had you acted differently, done differently, tragedy would not have happened. The chief of the local border patrol facility died in front of you last night. We want to find out why.”

  All the thoughts and images came flashing back. “Why here?”

  “This is not a formal autopsy, nor will it be thorough. And it’s easiest done here, since the funeral is scheduled for tomorrow.”

  “Sort of off-the-cuff?” She watched them nod. “And your reason for wanting to know…?”

  “If it were negligence on your part, we want to know that, of course. But we don’t think it is. We want to be able tell you authoritatively that it was not your fault, and there was nothing you could have done. To do that requires an autopsy.”

  Yvette stuck her head in the door. “He’s here.”

  “Thank you.” Dr. Livingston smiled at her. The door closed.

  He continued, “Esther, I was very positively impressed by your handling of this facility under combat conditions. And the grace with which you let me step in to help. I called Dr. Ho here to congratulate him on his brilliant PA and we got to talking about you. We’ve decided between us that you have some serious problems, but they’re not insurmountable. Get you past them, and you’ll not only be a splendid doctor, you’ll be a much happier person.”

  “All that from an off-the-cuff autopsy.”

  “This is step one.” Dr. Ho smiled. “Besides, I’d like to know. It’s actually fairly rare that someone just drops like that.”

  Obviously, this was all going to go down whether she wanted it to or not. People higher and stronger and more authoritative than she had just taken over her domain, her life, her destiny. She was not in control anymore, not that she’d ever been.

  She opened her mouth to speak but her thoughts were too weird, too jumbled. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “For starters, tell us whether you want to be present when we work on him.”

  She thought about that a moment, and they gave her the space. “I’ve worked with people doing autopsies, and I’ve studied cadavers. But no one I knew. But…close. The whole town was close to Chief. We all worked so closely with him. I—I don’t think so. Too close.” Why did she keep saying close? Why couldn’t she be more articulate?

  Dr. Livingston nodded. “Right choice, I suggest. But we wanted it to be your choice, not ours.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Go have a cup of tea, or a sandwich with Barbara, or wander down to the pool hall and shoot a few rounds of snooker. Kick back, if you can.”

  Right. Just relax. “Thank you.” She stepped outside and closed the door. Their beloved Chief was about to be hacked up in an autopsy and she was told to relax.

  Yvette and Dennis were standing back by the double doors. They watched her leave and wheeled a covered gurney into the hall. Outside under the roof, the funeral home’s only hearse was parked.

  She was going to slip past the waiting room, but Barbara called her name.

  As she detoured to Barbara’s desk, she saw Mr. Aptos come hobbling up the front walk toward the door.

  Barbara was smiling broadly. “Sarah Applegate asked me to tell you you’re the coolest doctor in the whole world, and she’s going to go to medical school and become one like you.”

  Esther smiled despite herself. “When you see her, tell her I’m flattered.” She strolled back to the break room and the coffeepot. The junk-food and soft-drink dispensers had not yet been replaced. They stood smashed and mute and quite dead. But someone had left
a big, open box of doughnuts on the counter; on the lid was scribbled FREE TO A GOOD HOME.

  She replenished her coffee mug and chose a maple bar. It was fresh and soft and puffy and oh, so tasty. She savored that first big bite.

  “In here.” Barbara opened the door, and in came Mr. Aptos. He was just as shaky and spidery as ever, but there seemed to be a grim determination about him that Esther had not seen during the storm.

  He smiled. “Mornin’, Doc.” He raised a hand. “Not here as a patient this time. Feeling good for once.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Esther stood quickly and put on her please-the-people smile. “Would you like coffee? And we have doughnuts.”

  “Sure. May I sit?”

  “Of course!” Esther poured him a mug of coffee. “Milk? Sugar?”

  “Sugar. You wouldn’t know that, of course. But when I was in here during the storm, Ben brought me coffee, and he remembered about the sugar. From years ago.”

  She set the coffee and sugar before him. Not exactly fancy: a cottage cheese carton. But sugar. She simply set the whole doughnut box on the table. Let him choose. She sat back down across from him.

  He picked a maple bar, too. He too seemed to relish that first heavenly bite. “Fine young man, Ben James. His grandpappy and me were best friends, I watched him grow up. He joined the marines; changed some when he got back, seemed darker. But still the fine, caring fellow he’d always been. So sad about his Allie.”

  And his chief. But she said nothing. Yes, I suppose Ben’s a fine man. His dog likes him. And so do I. That unexpected thought struck her oddly.

  “You only been here what, couple years? I lived here my whole life, except two years in the army and four years in teachers’ college. Never ever saw a storm like this one, and then another hard on its heels.” He wagged his head.

  What to say? “Many people are saying that.”

  He nodded. “A doozy, all right. Double doozy. You don’t know this, I’m sure; not many people know this. Not even Ben, I don’t think. But after I retired, everyone said I oughta get a hobby, so I took up investing. Figured out what the Wall Street Journal is saying when it quotes stock, you know, those pages of tiny print.” He snickered. “Bought myself a pretty strong magnifying glass, too. Picked out some stuff I figured might grow—none of that dot-com baloney. Real companies. Worked out pretty well. Got myself a nice little nest egg. But then my lady died and I kinda lost interest.”