The Doctor's Tale (10 page)

“I love you, Starr. I’m so lucky to have you.”

Starr lit the end of a fresh cigarette. “Yeah, Eddie.” She blew a puff of smoke into the still air. “Me too. Listen, baby, I’m going out for some cigarettes and beer. I’ll be back in a little while.”

“Eddie! Would you get that? It’s the phone!” Lori slumped in the worn living room recliner, and nibbled on a piece of melba toast. Scuffed slippers covered her gnarled feet. Dazed, she stared at the television
screen, and wondered how she arrived at this desperate crossroad. Before the cancer diagnosis, she never watched television. Now, it was her best friend. “Eddie! Willya get that, Eddie?”

Lori flung her toast at the screen. It hit the corner of the television and landed in the pile of wrinkled newspapers. Why, she wondered, doesn’t that talk show guy just shut up? He doesn’t need to talk all the blooming time. She felt so crummy today, and this stupid television guy talked way too much—not at all like Dr. Spezia. Dr. Spezia listened when she talked. Did Eddie just say something about bacon?

“What did you just say, Eddie?”

“I said, I’m cooking bacon now, Princess.”

Bacon? She hated bacon, Eddie knew that. Just the thought of it turned her stomach. Why was Eddie cooking bacon? There was that blooming phone again, ring-a-ling-linging, beside all those amber-orange prescription bottles. She grabbed the receiver and rested it on her shoulder.

“Hey,” Lori said.

No one replied. She shrugged and began to replace the receiver. That’s when she heard the familiar raspy voice, the voice of a sultry smoker.

“Lori?” Starr said. “That you?”

“Yeah, Starr,” Lori sighed. “It’s me.”

The sound of Starr’s voice stung like a hornet. The receiver tumbled onto the worn carpet. Lori began to heave. Dry at first, followed by a bitter bile that coated her mouth and spilled down the front of her thin nightgown.

“Don’t sound like yourself, Lori. Don’t mind me saying. Guess you’re feeling pretty bad, huh?”

“Yeah,” Lori said, “I’m feeling pretty awful.”

Greasy air filled Lori’s lungs. She gulped and gasped. If only she could take just one deep breath! From somewhere in the kitchen, she heard Eddie calling for her.

“Princess? We’re having a little company, didn’t I tell you? Who’s that on the phone?”

The sleepless nights overwhelmed her spirit. Lori collapsed with her face burrowed in the stained carpet. She never heard the frenetic game show tunes blaring from the television. For that matter, she never heard anything.

Eddie thought he heard a loud noise in the house somewhere, like maybe the sound of some books falling from a shelf. He decided it was just the wind. For just a moment, Eddie hesitated before he shuffled into the narrow hall. To him, it seemed as if an invisible hand propelled him to the living room to his wife—his duty, his obligation. He smoothed his tousled hair and hustled to the front of the bungalow. The theme song to a sitcom blared from the television.

“Coming, Princess,” he said.

Eddie tiptoed closer and closer, until he saw Lori’s body splayed on the carpet. He grabbed her wrist and it dropped, like it belonged to a rag doll. Wide awake, he was living his worst nightmare.

Lori wasn’t breathing.

Eddie snatched the “Welcome Home” brochure that Dr. Spezia gave him and flipped through the pages. Nothing on “breathing” in there. Nope. Now, he’d have to call Spezia. A familiar rage surged in his heart. Doc Skelton sure made a bad decision there, putting such a young guy in charge of Lori’s case.
Dr. Spezia.
The thought of a kid like him, standing there, judging him… Okay, he probably deserved his scorn. But dammit, let Spezia live his life—just for a day, man—one short, long day. He’d see what his life was like. Maybe then, he’d need an afternoon with Starr.

He decided that’s exactly what he was going to tell him, face to face. Right after they rushed Lori back to the hospital, and she up and started breathing again—

“Starr!” Eddie said. “Get the Pontiac!”

“Hold on there, Lori.”

I heard the panic in Eddie’s voice, before I entered the room. His face lookes as rumpled and wary as his clothes. For a brief moment, I felt sorry for him, until Starr rounded the corner.

“Well, if it isn’t Dr. Pizza!” Her voice grated like a rusty knife. “Don’t you ever go home?” She blew a pink bubble from the wad of gum in her wide mouth and popped it with the tip of her tongue. “Oh, I get it. No wife waiting up for you, huh?”

“Starr!” Eddie said. “Please. No jokes now.”

It was all I could do to control my temper, “Mr. Raines, how long has your wife been like this?”

“Like what?”

“She’s barely conscious! From the looks of her chart, her vitals are all out of whack. What happened?”

Lori sighed and began to snore.

“Well, Lori sleeps most of the time,” Eddie said. “Just like she’s doing now.”

“What has she been eating?”

“Well, Lori’s never been a big eater. Last night, we sent out for some pizza around five or so, but she said she didn’t feel like eating none of it. And Lori loves pizza, so you know she’s feeling bad when she says that. I made bacon this morning, but she didn’t want none of that neither. Next time we checked on her, she was barely breathing.”

“What do you mean,
we?
Who’s we?”

Starr folded her arms over her chest and started humming “Three Blind Mice.”

“Well, me and Starr, you know.”

“I would like to speak to you, Mr. Raines. Alone.”

“We are alone.”

I nodded at Starr. “Miss, would you mind stepping into the hall for a moment, please?”

“Who’s out there?” Starr said.

“Babe,” Eddie said, “just wait for me outside, okay?”

“Sure.” Starr winked at Eddie. “See you later, Eddie Bear.”

I waited until the clack of Starr’s high heels on the terrazzo faded. I wish I could say the same for my anger.

“Mr. Raines, I do not want to see you accompanied by Miss Hixson at this hospital. It is completely inappropriate.”

“Right now, Doc, I can’t worry about the rights and wrongs of this and that. Lori needs me to be strong. Starr gives me strength so I can cope, and cope is what I need to do. So yeah, she helps me.”

“I’m sure she does. But it is not about what helps you at this point, Mr. Raines. Your wife is seriously, terminally ill. She needs you. One hundred percent of you. Do you understand me?”

“Yeah, Doc. I hear you loud and clear. The thing is, you’re not hearing
me.
My wife takes one hundred percent of me, plus some. I’m done wore out. Starr’s the only thing that keeps me going.”

“What does she do for you, Mr. Raines?”

“She takes care of me,” Eddie said.

I could tell the times with Starr refreshed him in a way he believed should shame him. Yet, they enabled him to meet his obligations to his wife. At least, that is what he told himself. Most days, he insisted, he needed to tell himself something. His eyes burned with a feverish tension.

“Is that so bad, huh? I guess a guy like you would think so. But, here’s the thing, Doc. I’m the kind of man that’s used to having a woman around. A sexy one like Lori. Lori used to be so, so—” His chapped hands covered his face, and I noticed his ragged fingernails, bitten down to the quick. Tears spilled onto his cheeks and down his
neck. He wiped at them with his shirtsleeve. “Oh, what the hell! No use explaining anything to the likes of you. What about tonight? You gonna keep Lori here, or should I take her back home with me?” The pop of a can, followed by a slurping sound, resounded from the cavernous hall. “Sounds like someone got thirsty out there, don’t it, Doc? It’s probably about time I grabbed Lori’s stuff and started for home.” Eddie stared at me with the eyes of a desperate, determined fool.

“Your wife cannot go home,” I said. She’ll be lucky to make it home by the end of the week. Tell me something, Mr. Raines. Does that bother you?”

“Damn straight it bothers me. What do you want from me, huh? Hey, I got an idea! You’re the doctor. Why don’t we do something different this time? You take care of Lori. If you do something for a change, maybe you’ll understand where I’m coming from.” Eddie blew his nose and stuffed the handkerchief into the back pocket of his tattered blue jeans. “See, amigo, it’s like this. I am out of time, money and energy. It’s your turn. See you tomorrow.”

The door banged shut behind him. It seemed that Eddie and I crashed into an imaginary “brick wall.” On the one hand, I demanded that Eddie relinquish Starr, while Eddie required a brand of empathy that I simply couldn’t comprehend or provide.

For a brief moment, I tried to walk in Eddie’s shoes. I asked myself one question. Did Lori’s cancer make Eddie feel like he was falling off a cliff? Did he believe I was asking him to deny the hand of the angel that helped him? Never mind that the hand belonged to a blonde in tight white pants. Eddie’s words haunted me:
Why don’t we do something different this time?

Lori’s labored breaths reminded me of my stern admonishment:
She needs you.
My gaze fixed on Lori’s gold wedding ring. I believed my convictions were correct. I, however, had never known Lori the Entertainer, Lori the Wife, or Lori the Best Friend. When cancer arrived, it appeared that those faces of Lori departed. The only place where they
still lived and breathed were in Eddie’s memories. When he visited his wife, Eddie looked frustrated and sullen. I noticed that and I wondered. If I were Eddie Raines, how would I feel?

The neon lights of the bar flashed against the velvet sky. “Come on, Eddie, “ Starr said. “Let’s get a beer. You didn’t do nothing wrong.”

“Spezia sure thinks I did. Why?” He shrugged. “Don’t ask me. All I’ve done for the past year is haul Lori to the doctor, buy her pills at the drugstore, grocery shop, and do the ever lovin’ laundry. Oh and by the way, work my tail off from 8 to 5, five days out of seven. None of that counts. Nope. I’m the bad guy all the time. By the way, he isn’t too crazy about you, either. You know what? He makes me fighting mad. What’s he know about watching my wife die? Bet he never loved anybody the way I loved her.”

“You talk like she’s already dead.”

Eddie’s face glistened beneath the glare of the lights. He swiped the tears with his shirtsleeve and sniffled while he stared out the window of the Pontiac at a rusty barrel, overflowing with cans and wrappers. “It’s just easier if I see her that way. ‘Cause the way she’s going, she sure isn’t alive.”

“Let’s get a couple a beers and some pizza, Eddie. Baby, listen to me. You need some fun. And you know I know how to have some.” She winked at him and kicked the car door with her foot. A gust of wind blustered into the car. “You comin’ or not?”

“No. Not tonight.”

“Where you going?”

“Don’t know. Maybe go home. Clean the place up a little. Maybe not.”

“Well, I’m going in for a beer, Eddie Bear.” She stood on the sidewalk and blew him a kiss. “Call me sometime, baby.”

“You’ll be all right?”

“I always am, aren’t I?”

“Yeah. You keep me going, Starr…I love you.”

Starr flipped her hair over her shoulder and lit a cigarette. The
smoke curled into the air.

“Me too. By the way, I’m thinking about using my real name. You know, Francine. I don’t like it much, but I guess my mother did. She must have, or she wouldn’t have picked a name like Francine.”

“Francine, huh?”

Starr shrugged. “I can tell you don’t like it. That’s why I call myself Starr. Anybody seems to be better than the real me.” She tossed a cigarette butt on the sidewalk, and ground it into the concrete with the tip of her shoe. “What do you think of that, Eddie Bear?”

Eddie watched and waited, until he waited all alone. He turned the ignition key and the Pontiac roamed through the dark streets. His fingers felt numb, like his brain. He couldn’t think straight. Nope. But he sure could feel. His eyes brimmed with tears until they welled up and dripped on his tongue. While he drove, he prayed to the stars and the moon and whatever else lived in the space he would never understand, for the reasons why his Lori got the cancer. He just couldn’t understand it all.

Nope.

What had they done so bad, him and Lori, huh? What had they done to God that He saw fit to take away their life together? They were good people, he thought. Not perfect—well, no, they weren’t. But they were good, decent people. Didn’t deserve this stuff. Now, he knew people who he thought maybe did, oh yeah. Like the guy at the car plant that gambled his check away two months before it was earned. Hell, Eddie thought, he never did that. Didn’t drink much either, didn’t hardly smoke. The only place he might be walking the line a bit was with Starr, and he didn’t even look at her until, oh maybe, five, six months ago. But dang it all, a man had to live, didn’t he? ‘Sides that, he took damn good care of Lori. And he would, till the day she died. Starr knew that. She was okay with it, too. He wiped more tears from his cheek with his shirtsleeve. So, who was he hurting?

Somehow, the Pontiac landed in the parking lot behind City Hospital. Eddie rolled down the window and lit a cigarette, Starr’s brand.
Two drags, and he stubbed it out. His eyes grew heavy and his head drooped, until it rested on the steering wheel.