Fredric Stern - The Endorphin Conspiracy

“Don’t come any closer, Doc, or we both go sky high.” The man’s left hand grabbed the detonator strapped to his waist.

Doc. The accent. The way he said Doc.

“Just relax and be cool about it. That’s my patient you’ve got there. Why don’t you just put her down, let her go.” In a flash, the man’s face transformed and assumed definition. “Doc, you fucked up my brain once. You’re not gonna have a chance to do it again!”

Geoff was confused. His gaze was again drawn to the man’s brain. The red hot horseshoe area was pulsating at a crescendo, its crimson glow spreading to adjacent areas of the brain like creeping molten lava.

Movement over to the right of the doorway. Another person. A cop was sidling toward the man and Jessica, gun drawn. Dumbrowski.

“Hold it right there, pal!” he commanded, his gun aimed at the man’s pulsating brain.

The man turned abruptly, yanking Jessica as he did so. “You were too late last time, cop. You’re too late this time, too!”

A feeling of helplessness engulfed Geoff. His gaze darted frantically from Dumbrowski to the man holding Jessica, back to the cop. “Take me instead of the little girl,” Geoff said. He continued advancing toward them.

“It’s over, Doc. You put that horseshoe in my brain, and now you pay the price!”

“What are you talking about?”

“My brain, man. You poisoned my brain!” the man yelled hysterically, his entire brain now a bright orange-red like a pulsating sun about to explode. His right thumb reached the detonator button.

“No!” Geoff screamed.

A white-hot firestorm erupted around him.

Geoff sat up in bed, his body sopping with sweat, his heart pounding.

“Geoff, are you okay?” Stefan sat down on the edge of the sofa bed. “You must have been having a nightmare.”

Geoff wiped the sweat off his brow and searched the blackness of the room. “How could I have forgotten that face? That voice?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The man who went nuts at the zoo.”

“I’m beginning to wonder if you’re losing it now,” said Stefan. He rubbed his eyes.

“He was the first head injury patient in our PET scan/endorphin study a couple of months ago.”

“Must have had a lot of brain damage.”

“Obviously more than I thought at the time.” Geoff reached over, turned on the light on the end table, grabbed a pad and a pencil.

Stefan squinted his eyes at the offending light.

Geoff scribbled down a single word: Romero .

“You look like hell, Geoff,” Cathy Johannsen said. They sat at the ICU nursing station. Geoff had recounted the bizarre events of the night before.

“Could I make up a story like that?”

“You have a pretty active imagination, but I have to believe you were there. Your name was all over the papers. ‘Dr. McDreamy of the A-train saves the day.’ You’re the hero of Washington Heights.”

“How’s Karen doing?”

“She’s doing great. She handled herself like a pro. Mark, well, he’s smart but a bit green. No new admissions, by the way, and they were able to get little Jessica off the ventilator.”

“So soon?” Images from his dream flashed in his mind. Jessica clutched tightly in Romero’s arms, the white-hot firestorm engulfing them all.

Karen Choy approached the nursing station. “I guess you heard the good news,” she said with a broad smile.

“Don’t get me wrong, Karen, I think it’s great, but didn’t you take her off the ventilator a little prematurely?”

Karen shifted her weight, massaged the back of her neck, as if she was surprised by his question. “Well, it wasn’t my idea entirely. Howard suggested we do it.”

Geoff was upset. “Kapinsky? He should know better than that. Where is he now?”

“Over there, by Jessica’s bed,” Cathy said. She rolled her eyes, pointed to the far corner of the room. “He’s doing his clown routine.”

Geoff left the nursing station, Karen behind him, and walked towards Jessica’s bed. Kapinsky was standing at the bedside blowing up balloons and twisting them into the shapes of animals. He playfully set each one on Jessica’s table after he made the corresponding animal’s sounds.

Geoff watched the scene in amazement. His anger abated and his instinctual dislike for Kapinsky melted away, however briefly, as he observed the tender interaction. It was hard to believe this was the same abrasive tight-assed geek he had come to loathe over the years.

“And do you know what this one is, sweetie?” asked Kapinsky in his best kindergarten voice. “I’ll give you one hint. Hee-haw, hee-haw.”

Jessica’s eyes were open, like slits. She cracked half a smile, made a feeble attempt to mouth the word donkey.

“Great!” Kapinsky replied. “Now I have one last animal friend for you to meet.”

“Looks like you’ve found a cure for endorphin-coma, Kapinsky,” Geoff said as he and Karen approached the bedside.

Kapinsky smiled and continued about his business of creating a balloon giraffe. “Now, Dr. Geoff, let’s not frighten our patient. She’s never seen you before.”

Geoff’s initial reaction was to get pissed off at Kapinsky’s tone, be he realized immediately Kapinsky was right. “Would you like to introduce us?”

Geoff approached Jessica cautiously, noting the frightened look in her eyes. She was a different child from the grotesque, bloodied little girl he had seen the other day. The endotracheal tube had been removed, and one of the nurses had made braids and tied them together over the shaved area on the top of her head. She was no longer a faceless victim.

“Jessie, this is my friend, Dr. Geoff. He’s your friend, too, so don’t be afraid of him.” Kapinsky placed his arm around Geoff, who had softened enough to tolerate the contact.

Jessica nodded slowly, and her frightened expression relaxed. She attempted to mouth words—obviously using every bit of her strength to do so—words Geoff picked up on right away. “Daddy. Where’s my daddy?”

Geoff turned to Karen with concern. “Have you spoken with the family?”

“Her dad and grandmother spent most of the night here,” Karen said. “They went home to rest about an hour ago. Her mother died a few years ago.”

Geoff grasped Jessica’s hand firmly with his own. “Daddy went home to nap, Jessica. He’ll be back soon.”

He turned to Kapinsky. “I think it’s time to let her rest.”

Jessica nodded slowly as her eyes closed.

The team, lead by Geoff, walked toward the nursing station. “Looks great, doesn’t she?” Kapinsky said with a smug smile.

“Sure does. Tell me how you weaned her off the ventilator so quickly, Karen.”

Karen rubbed the back of her neck and took a breath. “Her vitals had remained stable for almost thirty-six hours and her intracranial pressure had dropped to normal levels. When she became arousable and her pupils were normal and fully reactive to light, we had respiratory therapy evaluate her pulmonary functions. Her pO2/CO2 levels were normal. After checking her chest x-ray and seeing her lung had re-expanded, and after repeating the PET scan, we—Howard and I—thought it was safe to try to wean her off the ventilator.”

“I understand your desire to help her recover as quickly as possible, Karen, but I hope you realize how potentially dangerous what you did was. She could have died. Surely you, Kapinsky, should have known better.”

Karen looked down, avoiding eye contact with Geoff.

“It was done under very controlled conditions, Geoff. I would never have taken the risk with this little girl otherwise,” Kapinsky said.

“Did you check her PET scan first?”