“When he was only eighteen months old, I had him at Long Beach one day. You know the jetties that are spaced every quarter mile or so? He just picked himself up and started walking in the sand, so I got up and followed him. He never once looked back. When he was about to pass the second jetty—had to have been nearly a half mile—I sped up and took his hand and made him turn back around. Fearless, that kid is, always has been!”
Ferdinand showed up at one o’clock as promised, and Shari was done with the inventory by three. She wished them a happy New Year and left. By four o’clock, there were still a few patients in the office, but it had slowed down significantly, as the community became more focused on their New Year’s Eve plans than on seeing a doctor.
Finally, only Mikhail remained, one of her favorite patients. Tobi walked in with her usual sunny introduction, but wearing a mask. She took one look at him, and her heart broke. He was dripping from his nose, which was red and raw, his hair was matted and sticking out in all different directions, and he was coughing intermittently. He looked like hell.
“I hurt everywhere, doc,” Mikhail said. “I had a 102.7 fever last night. I was shaking under three blankets. I just couldn’t get warm, and neither Tylenol nor Advil helped.”
“Looks like you have the flu,” she said. “It’s most of what I’ve been seeing for the last few days. When did you first feel ill?”
“Thursday morning, early. It woke me up in the middle of the night, so, three, almost four days ago. It feels like it’s getting worse every day.”
Tobi examined him. “Your lungs are clear. I can give you a nasal spray to dry up your nose and a cough medicine, which will also help you sleep. Your body needs rest and fluids. Stay away from anyone you like until you’re better,” she grinned at him.
“Yeah, no kidding. And, if I don’t like them? Never mind,” he laughed, which turned into a coughing fit.
“Don’t worry, Mikhail. You’re a young, basically healthy guy, you’re going to be fine. The human body is amazing.”
As she was charting Mikhail’s visit, her phone pinged with a Facebook message. Against her better judgment, she opened it.
Tob,
I know you don’t want to hear from me, but I’m coming to New York. You have every right to flip me the bird, but if you must, please do it in person. I must talk to you, just once. After that, I’ll go away if you tell me to. Promise.
Love to Benny.
T
It’s about Reuben
Tobi’s head spun for a second. Leave me alone! And that last line, as if he wasn’t sure he should write it. What the hell. If she saw him again, if she went there again, she could get sucked in again, and she might never be able to come back. It had taken years to get over him the first time. Why would she invite all that pain back into her life?
She shook her head, as if that would remove him from her consciousness, and turned back to her charts.
The rooms were all clean and stocked and it was past time to leave, but a man was banging on the door outside. “I have asthma, I can’t breathe. Please let me in!”
Ferdinand opened the door. It was 5:20 p.m., they were supposed to close at five.
“Please, I just need some medicine. I’ll be quick.”
Marta triaged him quickly and Tobi walked into his exam room. “Hey, doc, remember me? You cured my frostbite over the summer.” He smiled mischievously. He didn’t look very short of breath.
Damian had a square jaw and ultra-broad shoulders. His upper muscles were hyper-developed, and he was eager to take his shirt completely off for her to examine him. For some reason, he made her think of a gym commercial. Tobi furrowed her brow, wondering why she didn’t remember him. She looked at the EMR.
“Oh, right. You banged your arm, and then you put ice packs directly against your skin and wrapped them very tightly with an ace bandage. I remember you, Damian.”
Damian seemed proud of this for some reason. “Yup, I wrapped it super tight to make sure it would stay in the right spot. I had it on for about thirty minutes, and when I took it off, my arm was all red and blistered. Man, that hurt like a son of a bitch!”
“Yes, you gave yourself second degrees burns from the ice, like frostbite.”
“You do remember me!”
“I do.” How could she have forgotten? “So, you ran out of your inhaler?”
“Yeah, a few days ago. I figured I’d come by and see you and get another. Can you give me one of those breathing treatments too? Sorry I came so late, I knew you closed early for the holiday, five o’clock, right? I almost made it. I ran into some traffic, should’ve been here fifteen minutes ago. Thanks for opening back up or me.”
Tobi listened to his lungs, and he was wheezing very slightly. She started an albuterol nebulizer and sent a script for an inhaler to one of the few pharmacies still open on New Year’s Eve.
As he was leaving, he asked “Hey, doc, do you think I can still work out tonight? I have equipment at home.”
“I’d give it a rest for tonight, Damian. And be careful driving home, people have probably started drinking already.”
“Happy New Year!” he called out as he was leaving.
“Is he for real?” Marta asked. She looked like she’d had the day from hell. Tobi wondered if she looked the same.
“Do you have plans for tonight?”
“I did,’” Marta replied. “Right now, all I want to do is crawl into bed.”
Chapter 42
Tobi was just pulling into her driveway when her phone sang out Ben’s custom ringtone and his picture appeared.
“Mom, I’m really sorry! I shouldn’t have done that to you while you were at work,” he was fighting back laughter. “It was a good one, though. I never thought you’d take me seriously.”
“It’s not outside the realm of possibility, you know.”
“I know, but I tell you now when I go anywhere. I called Israel to wish Dad a happy New Year.”
“I see you called him before you called me.” Tobi realized she was trying to guilt him, but she felt stubbornly justified.
“Mom! It’s seven hours ahead over there!”
“I know, I know … it’s just been a hell of a day. Patients were crazy. I hope you don’t regret this decision to do medicine. It isn’t what it used to be.”
“I can’t imagine doing anything else, Mom, I love learning this stuff. Are you going anywhere tonight?”
“I was invited out with Chloe, they’re all going to dinner and a show and I have a ticket, and I was also invited to Madelyn’s, she’s having people over. But I’m so tired, I may just stay home with Pantelaymin.”
“You should go out, Mom. Madelyn is just down the block. You don’t even have to drive.”
“What are you and Rachel doing? I hope you’re not going to be anywhere near Times Square. They received threats again, and what a great time for a terrorist to blow it up.”
“Ugh, no. I hate Times Square. Too touristy. A bunch of us are making rounds at a couple of clubs and then doing dinner in the Village at Shuka. It’s Mediterranean.”
“Sounds like fun. I miss you. Hey, so, I keep getting IM messages from … do you remember Troy DeJacob?”
“That dick wad? Yeah. I hope you’re ignoring them. You can block him, you know. What does he want?”
“I don’t know. He’s sent me three, and I have been ignoring them. Today he wrote that it has to do with your Uncle Reuben.”
“Mom! Uncle Reuben is dead. For, like, twenty years. He’s just trying to find a way in. I hope you’re not going to fall for that. He left us, remember? Without a word, just disappeared? Oh, he did tell us he was all right, just could never see us again.”
Tobi flinched; Ben had been hurt as much as she had. “But tell me how you really feel.”
“Seriously, Mom, he’s a jackass. Leave th
at alone. Go—go have fun tonight. You don’t hang out with your friends enough. You should go somewhere, I want you to have some fun.”
“I wanted to go with you to Iceland last year, and I would have paid for everything. You weren’t even going with Rachel.” Tobi realized she was whining.
“That was a ‘guy’ trip. I told you I’d go back with you one day.”
“I know.” Tobi sighed. “I really am glad you do all these amazing things. Your uncle died so young, but I feel like he did more in his short life than many do in eighty-plus years. You’re very like him, you know. You just better live a whole lot longer!”
“I’ll be fine, Mom, don’t worry. I gotta go, just wanted to wish you a happy New Year. I love you.”
“I love you, too Ben. Be careful tonight, wherever you go. Happy New Year and give my love to Rachel.”
Tobi shut the engine. She hated that it got so dark so early. She got out of her car and caught her breath at the sound of a dog barking down the block. What was wrong with her? She was literally jumping at shadows, as if she expected someone to leap out at her from behind the trees. Stop it, she told herself. My life is normal. Boring at times to be sure, but there is no reason for me to be so jittery.
Chapter 43
Troy received a call from Inspector Bent.
“Hello, Mr. DeJacob? Happy New Year.”
“Thank you, inspector. Same to you. Did you find out anything?”
“Yes, happens we did. Our National Institute of Standards and Technology, or NIST as we call it, got a facial recognition on Boris Gozinski coming into the country. His real name—we think—is Mannfort Tzenkov, known to be one of the wealthiest oligarchs in Russia, with a rather shady portfolio. No idea where he is right now, but I can tell you he holds the reigns of several multibillion dollar companies, and one of them is a health insurance company, called Kordec. I did some digging for you, and they specialize in high-risk patients.”
Troy whistled under his breath. “Wow, thank you.”
“Yeah, I figured I owed it to you after keeping you rocking on your heels for so long. I wish I’d known who you were from the start ….”
Troy kept his voice even. “Why should that have mattered? A human being is a human being. We all deserve the same compassion and respect.”
The line was silent.
“But I suppose it is inevitable,” Troy said. “I should have used my credentials. Human beings are rarely treated with equality, right?”
Bent stammered. “I learned an important lesson too, Mr. DeJacob. You never know who you’re talking to. But please understand that in general, we’re not at liberty to share our intel with civilians. I hope this information is helpful.”
“It is, and I am grateful that you shared it with me. I wish you health and happiness in the coming year.”
“And same to you, my friend, and good fortune in your enterprise.”
Troy took out his phone and opened up Facebook Messenger again. He wrote:
Tob,
I know you don’t want to hear from me, but I’m coming to New York. You have every right to flip me the bird, but if you must, please do it in person. I must talk to you, just once. After that, I’ll go away if you tell me to. Promise.
Love to Benny.
T
It’s about Reuben
Chapter 44
Tobi was not looking forward to her shift; the day after the holiday was always a headache. People seemed to come out of the woodwork, as if they’d had no access to medical care in a week, when nearly every urgent care on Long Island was open 365 days a year.
She pulled into the parking lot behind the building and snuck in the back before the doors opened for business. An email popped up from IT about a glitch in the social history section, which should be back up and running in the next couple of hours. She thought about her patient with the oxycodone problem and gave Steve a call.
“Hey, Tobi, happy New Year. What’s up?”
“Hey, you too. Quick question. I had a patient a couple of days ago whose chart showed that he was on oxycodone when he never took it. I removed it from our files, but it came from his Hospitals for Health record. Are we able to delete it permanently even if we didn’t enter it? Otherwise it will just pop back in again. The guy was pretty upset, and I can’t blame him.”
“Are you sure he never took it?”
“Yeah, I checked the ISTOP and cross-referenced him in ten other states. He’s not in there.”
“How did it get in his chart then?”
“I’m thinking it was from his endocrinologist’s office, that’s the only other place he’s been seen that’s on the same system. Maybe whoever triaged him there entered it by mistake.”
“Not sure; put in an IT ticket and see if they have any suggestions.”
“Okay.”
Tobi hesitated.
“Is there something else?” Steve asked.
“Yes … I had a disturbing visit from Ismar the other day.”
“Disturbing how?”
“He showed up as we were all leaving and asked me to stay, and then he started getting personal with me. He creeped me out.”
“Personal how?” Steve asked.
“He was asking about who I live with and about my family, I don’t know. It was unsettling. He insisted on keeping me alone with him in the office, after hours.”
“Well, that’s not appropriate. I’ll talk to him.”
“Thanks. Also, I was wondering if you found out anything about who was snooping in charts.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Last month you told me it seemed like I was looking in patients’ charts and violating HIPAA, when I wasn’t. I told you I thought Ismar took my tablet, and recently I’ve heard he has been appropriating other providers’ tablets as well. Maybe he’s using our logins to do some sort of research or something.”
The line was quiet, and when Steve spoke, his voice was stony.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. There is no problem with charts. Don’t worry about Ismar, Tobi, just worry about yourself.”
Tobi stiffened. “What do you mean by that?”
“Just what I said. Anything else?”
“No, nothing else.”
“Okay then, happy and healthy.”
The line went dead.
Tobi stood frozen for two solid minutes. What the hell just happened? She felt a surge of panic. It was getting harder and harder to convince herself she was imagining things. Something was definitely not right but she couldn’t put her finger on anything specific. Why would Steve deny their previous conversation?
Tobi closed her eyes and prayed. Why, God, why did you take Reuben from me? She asked it for the eighty thousandth time. She seemed to miss him more every year, but never greater than at this very moment. She felt abandoned and frightened and confused, and she was desperate for someone to help her sort it all out. And yes, as ashamed as she was to admit it, for someone to protect her.
From her earliest memories and before, Reuben had filled that role. She had been told that as a baby, her mother had lost control of her carriage on the hill in Forest Park, and as it rolled away from her, five-year-old Reuben chased right after it, running in front of the carriage and stopping it before Tobi rolled onto busy Union Turnpike.
She remembered his rescuing her when she was passing the bully’s house when she was about nine. She couldn’t get home any other way, and she always dreaded it. The boy who lived there was three years older than her and nearly twice her size. He challenged her, as usual. But that day, Reuben was playing street hockey with his friend Kevin down the block. He saw the confrontation and came running to her aid, still holding the hockey stick, and threw the kid on the grass. Then he stood over him waving the stick over his head while he shouted at him never to bother his
sister again. Tobi had wanted to cry, half with relief, half with glee. The kid never even glanced in her direction after that.
And then there was the time in college that she’d had an anaphylactic reaction to a penicillin injection she was given at the student health center. By the time she got back to her dorm, she was burning up and started to feel like the walls were closing in. It was a very strange sensation, like her entire body had a toothache. A glance in the mirror revealed she was bright red everywhere, but she was too dazed to do anything except curl up in the fetal position on her bed. Her roommate found her like that and ran to get Reuben, who dragged her back to the health center. When the shuttle bus rolled up, she did not have the strength to climb the high step. The last thing she remembered was saying, “Reuben, you can’t carry me,” as he lifted her in his arms and onto the bus. She’d woken up the next day in a hospital bed.
Until the early ’90s, Reuben had always been her defender, her advocate, her friend. Until her parents started having financial difficulties and demanded assistance, and Tobi found herself pregnant and with a husband who wanted no part of her; until she’d had to put her child’s needs ahead of those of her parents.
Tobi had never had a great relationship with either her mother or her father, but even Reuben rejected her for that, having already chosen to submit to their parents’ pressure and belong, rather than risk abandonment. Tobi felt utterly alone from then on.
Reuben had given their parents three thousand dollars a month for years before he died, even though they were both working, and they had continued to buy two new cars every three years and live in a three-bedroom house. When their father died, their mother was offered three months bereavement leave at the department store she worked in, but she chose to quit altogether and lean wholly on Reuben. It contrasted darkly with her mother’s favorite platitude: God helps those who help themselves. How Mom had loved platitudes. Tobi guessed her mother never meant for this one to be applied to herself.
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