Richard Mabry - Diagnosis Death

"I'm sure it'll be great. But-"

A young black man hustled up to the table and set two plates before them. "The one with the toothpick in it's the one without onions," he said, his eyes never meeting theirs. "I'll bring your tea."

"That's Sam. He's Hattie's grandson. She's raising him."

"Shouldn't he be in school?" Elena asked.

"He dropped out after tenth grade. He wasn't an athlete, so there was no way he'd ever get into college. Hattie figured he might as well go to work."

The young man was back with teas before Elena could speak. Again, he kept his eyes downcast, as though afraid to meet the gaze of the deputy.

They ate in silence, partly because of the din surrounding them and partly because the food was so good that bite followed bite without interruption.

Back in the parking lot, Elena said, "Thanks for lunch, Frank. I'm glad we had an uninterrupted meal this time. And I'll certainly come back here again. That was probably the best hamburger I've ever tasted."

"I hope those return trips will be with me. Next time, though, I'd like to take you out in the evening to a nicer place."

Elena said something noncommittal. She wasn't sure about the vibes she was getting from Frank Perrin. She was noticing little things: the way the help at the cafe looked at him, the two men who almost fell over themselves getting out of his way, the fact that he hadn't even offered to pay for his meal. No, the more she learned about Frank, the more she understood the warnings she'd received. She needed to be careful around him.

"Time for a break, Dr. Gardner." Jane motioned to Elena's office, where a cold Diet Coke and a package of mini-Oreos were centered on her desk blotter. "I think this is what you like."

"Jane, you're an angel. How did you know?"

"I pay attention. You've got half an hour before your next patient. Now sit down and relax. You've done a great job today, but I don't want you to wear yourself out." Jane grinned. "I'm pretty sure Dr. Sewell's going to want you around for a good while."

"I hope so." Elena eased into her chair and motioned Jane to the one opposite.

Jane remained standing in the doorway. "Thanks, but I've got things to do." She started to close the door.

"One thing," Elena said. "The office is closed tomorrow afternoon

… right?"

"Right." Jane eased the door closed.

Elena extracted a wrinkled post-it note from her desk drawer. If she did this, there was no turning back, and the results might change her life. On the other hand, she couldn't go on this way. She pulled the phone toward her and tapped out ten digits.

A man's voice answered on the second ring. "This is the office of Dr. Josh Samuels. I'm probably with a patient, but if you'll leave your name, number, and a brief message, I'll call you back, usually within an hour. In the meantime, relax. Together, we can get through this."

Elena smiled. She could see what Cathy meant. This wasn't your ordinary psychologist.

"This is Dr. Elena Gardner. I'm a new associate of your former patient, Dr. Cathy Sewell. I need to see you tomorrow if at all possible about an urgent matter." She added the numbers of the unlisted office line and her cell phone, and hung up. She hoped she was doing the right thing.

She'd eaten one cookie and drunk half her Diet Coke when the back line rang. She snatched up the receiver. "Dr. Gardner."

"Elena, this is Will. I was hoping I'd catch you between patients. Do you have a moment?"

She tried not to let her disappointment show. "Sure. What's up? Is Cathy okay?"

"She's fine. She's at home and champing at the bit to get out, but Milton Gaines wants her on bed rest for a bit longer. We can talk more about that when I see you. Can you come by our house this evening about six?"

Elena did some rapid calculations. Finish with office patients, make rounds and pull Mr. Lambert's endotracheal tube, pick up her dry cleaning. "Sure. Can I bring anything?"

"No, we're fine. I'm going to get some Chinese takeout. Will you eat with us?"

"Sounds good." Tex-Mex, Chinese, American. The cuisine in Dainger was a veritable United Nations. "I'll see you at six."

She'd just hung up the phone when it rang again. The blinking light told her the call was on the private line. Dr. Samuels? She felt a mixture of hope and fear wash over her as she lifted the receiver and answered.

"Dr. Gardner, this is Josh Samuels. How may I help you?"

How could anyone help her? Elena did her best to give Samuels a concise summary of her situation.

He listened without interruption. When she wound down, he said, "Two questions. First, why tomorrow? And second, what do you hope to get from the session, assuming I can hypnotize you and regress you to the times in question?"

"The first is easy. I've taken over the practice while Dr. Sewell is confined to bed, and tomorrow afternoon is the only time I can get away. Besides, I'm afraid that if I delay this, I won't go through with it."

"Fair enough. I can see you after my scheduled patients. Be here at five. Do you need directions to my office?"

"I'll see Cathy tonight. I can get them from her. And thank you for seeing me."

"I asked two questions. What's your answer to the second one?"

What did she hope to gain? To find that she'd caused the death of two patients, one of them her husband, while in a fugue state? To learn that she was a danger to those she was sworn to help? She turned it over in her mind for another thirty seconds while Samuel waited patiently on the other end of the line. Finally, she said, "I guess I've decided that knowing, even knowing something bad about myself, is better than wondering for the rest of my life."

"Good answer. Once we know what's wrong, we'll work on fixing it."

After she hung up, Elena sat with her eyes closed, searching for encouragement to go through with what she'd set in motion. A phrase began to percolate to the top of her mind like the first bubble of coffee in an old-fashioned pot. She made her way to Cathy's office and looked in the bookshelf behind the desk. Yes, there it was, right where she remembered seeing it.

Elena took down the book, opened it, and thumbed through the pages until she found the one she wanted. There it was, Psalm 139. She slumped into Cathy's chair and let the words soak in. This was a modern translation, unfamiliar to her, but that only seemed to make the words more powerful.

"Investigate my life, O God, find out everything about me;

Cross-examine and test me, get a clear picture of what I'm about;

See for yourself whether I've done anything wrong-then guide me on the road to eternal life."

That was it. She'd let Josh Samuels investigate her life, look in the hidden corners, peek into the dark closets. Then she and Samuels would have a clear picture of what she was about. After that, the two of them-and, yes, God, if He was still interested-could set about fixing what was wrong in her life.

Elena looked at her watch and quickened her steps. Her last patient had taken more time than anticipated, but the end result certainly justified her efforts. The woman beamed when Elena assured her that an adjustment of her medication would almost certainly provide relief from the headaches that plagued her. Sometimes you do something that makes it all worthwhile.

In the ICU, it was the work of a moment to remove the breathing tube from Mr. Lambert's throat. Although he was improving daily, Elena warned his wife there was no guarantee he wouldn't awaken with a neurologic deficit that could range from mild to severe. "He's not out of the woods, by any means. And you should prepare yourself for the possibility that he might need institutional care for the rest of his life."

"I entered this marriage for better or for worse, and I'm not about to back out now," the woman said.