Justin Tussing - Vexation Lullaby

Kopp paused at the coffee urns. “Are either of these decaf?”

Peg brushed her hair away from her face with a palm. “They should be marked.”

“Never mind,” the attorney said. He lifted another muffin from the tray and ate it as he returned to his seat.

Peter felt completely superfluous.

“We’ve been playing catch-up all morning,” Peg said.

Oblitz held a gold pen between his hands, as though it were the reins to a show horse. “I find this very troubling. The board does not approve.”

“Perhaps,” Kopp said, “if someone could outline what’s being disapproved of, we might make some progress.”

Cooper leaned forward in his chair. “Would you like me to explain the hospital’s grievance?”

“Dr. Silver and I might find that helpful.”

“On January 7, 2008, more than two years ago, Dr. Silver entered into his current employment contract with this hospital.”

“That contract,” added Oblitz, “has stood up in previous litigations, if that’s your strategy.”

“Contracts are always blameless,” Kopp said. “If I may borrow a metaphor from woodworking, one must never select a glue that is stronger than the materials you intend to bind. I digress. Please continue, Mr. Cooper.”

The hospital’s lawyer leafed through a pad of paper in front of him. “Dr. Silver, an employee of this hospital, did willingly arrange to see a patient outside of this hospital, thus violating the terms of his contract, and, in the process, did expose this institution to considerable financial liability. Further, by failing to perform his duties in a professional manner, Dr. Silver damaged the reputation of this institution. And, finally, though his contract requires that he speak to a supervisor before accepting work outside of his duties at this hospital, he agreed to be compensated for his improper and unprofessional care.” Cooper flipped through a few more pieces of paper. “That about covers it.”

Everything the man said was true: Peter had gone to see Cross at his hotel; he’d neglected to even take the man’s pulse; and, for his incompetent aid, the singer had agreed to pay him whatever Ogata billed. While Peter was glad that Martinez had been spared an accounting of his uselessness, he felt certain these facts would make the rounds.

“You didn’t stipulate the punishment the hospital is seeking,” said Kopp.

“It’s not punishment,” said Dr. Larsen.

“The board is going to recommend Dr. Silver’s position be terminated,” Oblitz explained. “The hospital will determine at a later date whether it needs to seek damages.”

Peter wanted to slide under the table and hide. Seek damages! It sounded barbaric. And what would they seek damages for?

If he couldn’t be a doctor, how would he pay his mortgage? How would he get out of bed? His friendship with Martin would be doomed. He’d have to go somewhere far away. Maybe he’d find a desert all to himself. The Arctic was a desert, or so people claimed, a desert of frozen water. He stared at the backs of his hands. Was he looking at a doctor’s hands?

“I think what Dr. Larsen meant,” Cooper added, “is that there is no intention to be vindictive.”

Kopp stood up and buttoned his suit coat. “It’s fortunate, no, it’s miraculous that you managed to withhold those allegations while Dr. Silver’s colleagues sat in this room. Because if you had aired those sorts of mendacities in front of the people he works with, in front of the very people who sit on promotion boards and peer review committees, then we would have no choice but to sue this hospital for character defamation and slander, a suit which I would be eager to try personally.

“But rather than wrestle with fabrications, let’s look at the facts at hand. It is true that my client is an employee of this hospital. It is also true that last night Dr. Silver was contacted by an individual needing care. It is true that my client, a medical professional, did meet with that individual. However, at no point did he provide care. In fact he urged that individual to seek help at this medical facility. Your allegation that Dr. Silver was paid, or otherwise compensated for his actions, is patently false. Further, at my office I have signed affidavits supporting everything I just told you.”

“Our information comes from a very good source, an unimpeachable source,” said Oblitz. “You can have all the affidavits in the world, but that hardly makes your version true.”

Kopp said, “If I was sitting where you are, I’d be upset, too. But while I understand your frustration, I don’t allow people not acquainted with law to lecture me on her rules. For now, I’ll take it on faith that Mr. Cooper is still lead counsel for this hospital, and that Mr. Oblitz’s little homily is unrelated to our common business.”

The board member jerked to his feet, causing his chair to fall over. “I don’t think you need me here anymore,” he announced. “Peg, I’ll be expecting a call later today.”

Only after Oblitz left was Peter able to raise his head.

Kopp poured two sugar packets in his coffee. “That’s a great example of the Dark Ages mentality. ‘What I see is what there is,’ very anti-Enlightenment, very flat Earth.”

Cooper said, “Maybe you can tell us what we’re missing.”

“The elephant in the room is that the individual that Dr. Silver saw last night is none other than the musician Jimmy Cross. If it had been someone else, a person on the street, you would have spoken with them directly. However, fame is its own kind of shield. Am I right to assume no one here has spoken with Mr. Cross?”

“It’s not as though he’s in the phone book,” Cooper said.

“Everything you’ve alleged is hearsay. Now Mr. Oblitz claimed your information came from ‘an unimpeachable source.’ Let’s play a parlor game: I’ll see if I can’t use deductive reasoning to determine the identity of that source.”

Peter listened to the people around him talking about his life as though he wasn’t the chief expert in his affairs. In the movie of his life, Peter had been cast as an extra, a piece of breathing scenery. No one trusted him with a speaking role.

Kopp cleared his throat. “I want to point out something Mr. Oblitz said. What sort of person does a hospital view as ‘unimpeachable’? Don’t say ‘a doctor.’ Dr. Silver’s experience clearly refutes that. When we look to others, nothing is more reassuring than seeing ourselves. So I assume he was referring to another hospital or, more specifically, to a hospital founder.

“Now, another thing, this person needs to be famous, because how else could they be trusted to testify about the experience of someone as famous as Mr. Cross? So, I ask myself, is there a famous hospital founder, I mean other than Tony Ogata and his Total Wellness Clinic?”

Cooper’s head flopped onto his shoulder, as though his neck had broken.

“I hope you’re taking notes, Ray,” Peg said, “because I’m going to have to speak with the board and I want to make sure everything is clear.”

Kopp said, “I’ll give you the bullet points. First, Mr. Cross, an eleven-time Grammy winner, member of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, with more than ninety million records sold, contacted a doctor in your employ. That doctor urged Mr. Cross to seek medical care at your hospital. Mr. Cross was so impressed with the way this young doctor carried himself that he offered him a job. But this doctor, despite lavish promises, elected to remain loyal to his original employer. How’s that for a start?”

Cooper chewed on his thumb. “I hoped you might explain Ogata’s role in this mess.”

Peter’s attorney dipped a mini-muffin into his coffee, popped the darkened pastry into his mouth, held a finger up. “After meeting with my client, Mr. Cross, convinced he needed to take his care more seriously, called his former physician. When Ogata asked what precipitated the call, Cross gave my client’s name. I’d imagine Dr. Ogata could anticipate the effect of a few well-placed phone calls. Apparently the temptation to meddle proved irresistible.”