A Face from the Past
After too many minutes in the crowded waiting room, a nurse brought me into an exam room. She took my weight, my height, and asked a pile of questions that the doctor would inevitably ask again as soon as he walked in. I tried not to resent the process, but it was too familiar for it not to be annoying.
I wondered if I should get my own doctor again. I had one years ago because I refused to go to the VA. I believed the military surgeons who patched me up at the end of The Great War were butchers and that’s why I was in pain all the time. With that opinion firmly established, I saw no reason to trust the same military with my routine care. When old Doc Thompson died suddenly in 1948, I needed another physician. I was married to Walt by then, and didn’t hurt anymore, so I went to the VA because it was easy. I’d taken advantage of their facilities ever since.
The care they provided was excellent, but I didn’t have my own doctor. The VA had all my records, but I rarely saw the same physician twice in a row. They rotated in and out all the time. The office was basically a clinic attached to the hospital. It was staffed with residents in training or doctors doing double duty in other departments. Walt’s recent heart attack made me think it might be time to find a new doctor; one I could get to know and who would know me. Maybe I should see his new guy. He seemed good.
I mused over my options while I answered the stock questions the nurse asked every single time. She finally finished with her list and slapped the file shut. “Doc will see you shortly.”
I wasn’t sure I heard her correctly, so I asked her to repeat herself. She raised her voice like I was deaf and shouted. “I SAID THE DOCTOR WOULD BE IN SHORTLY!”
“THANK YOU!” I shouted back to show her how absurd she’d been. She and I had been talking for at least five minutes. I obviously wasn’t hard of hearing. There was no reason for her to shout just because I missed one thing she said.
She strode out and banged the door shut. I realized I made her mad by shouting back. I looked at the ceiling and apologized to God for being childish. “I’m sorry, Lord. I was an ass to yell like that. She probably deals with a lot of people who don’t hear well. I thought she said that Doc would be in shortly. I wish it was him who was coming to see me. I’d like to find him, Lord. I owe him an apology, and I want to give his money back. I’ve been carrying it around for two months. I don’t know where to look. It’s a poor detective I turned out to be.
“Send him my way, please, or inspire me with an idea that I can use to find him. My request is a selfish one, but I make it anyway. I drove him away. I did him a disservice. I won’t be easy in my mind until I can make it right. Help me to do that, Lord, please.”
I blew a breath at the ceiling like it was an Amen to a prayer that I never formally started. Ever since my meeting and confession with Father Groff, I’d been talking to God much more often. I still prayed the rosary at least once a day and I’d done thirteen acts of charity. I was actively working on my penance.
My daily prayers made me feel closer to God than I ever felt before. I spoke to him often when I was lost in thought, or when I caused a minor offence during my regular day, or just when I needed to get something off my chest. I felt good to speak to the Lord. The frequency of my conversations led me to start them without formality and finish them without signing off. I hoped I wasn’t being blasphemous. I planned to ask Father Groff when I saw him next. In the meantime, I spoke to the Almighty like he was a mouse on my shoulder.
I shut my eyes to rest them from the fluorescent light in the exam room and crossed my arms over my chest to wait. I planned to go to the homeless vet’s office again after my visit to ask if they’d heard from Doc. I had all kinds of fantasies about how I’d handle myself this time. In one of them I would burst into Ingalls’ office and demand he telephone all the caseworkers to ask about Doc while I stood over him and threatened him with bodily harm. In another I planned to lie about not having long to live and play on his sympathy to get the information. I didn’t know where else to turn. Edie’s Ben hadn’t heard from Doc. Lion hadn’t seen him. Jimmy Weaver hadn’t had a chance to really look yet. Harrison had no fresh ideas. I was lost.
I was wracking my brain for something else to try when the room door squeaked open and the steps of a man entered. A deep, familiar voice said, “Hey, Law; it’s nice to see you.”
The voice was Doc’s. I snapped my eyes open and hoped to see my friend, but the man before me was not him. This man was well-fed instead of gaunt. His hair was short and he wore no beard. I remembered the man, but not as Doc. This was the man who stared at me in the cafeteria a month before.
The man smiled with his perfect straight teeth and I knew it really was Doc. I shouted in recognition. “DOC!”
“LAW!”
I jumped up to shake his hand. “What are you doing?”
“I work here thanks to you.”
I didn’t understand and said as much. “What the fuck are you talking about? And why didn’t you say hello in the cafeteria last month? I’ve been worried sick!”
“Have you really?”
“Of course, I have! I’ve been worried to death from about five second after I mouthed off that night until just now. I looked all over the place for you! The day I saw you downstairs I was here looking for you. I saw Ingalls in the homeless vet’s office. I filled in a bunch of forms so he would get you to contact me. I thought maybe you came here for a place to stay instead of going back to the Y.”
He frowned at my speech and gestured for me to sit. I lowered myself in the chair and waited for an explanation. “I’m sorry. I really am. I should have gotten in touch with you before. You changed my life for the better and I should have thanked you. I was a coward, just like you said. I was a coward when I saw you a month ago. I’m ashamed of myself.”
He perched on the little stool on wheels that all doctors seem to use and explained. “I was mad when I left your place that night, really damn mad. I drove like hell all the way back down to the YMCA. I got out and stood on the sidewalk in front of the place, but I couldn’t go in. I told myself not to go back. If I went back, I didn’t think I’d ever leave. If I wanted to make things right, my only choice was to move forward, not back.
“I left the Y, but I didn’t know where to go. I came here and spent a miserable night in the lobby. I was going to go to the office for homeless vets, just like you said. I planned to see if they had a spot for me to stay until I could figure out a room and a job. I was standing in line waiting to find out where to go for services when I noticed the people around me. A lot of them were my age, but they looked much older. They looked scared, twitchy like the enemy could be anywhere. They needed help. I’m a doctor. I’m supposed to help. Instead of asking for services, I showed the person at the desk my degree and the records from my unfinished residency and asked who I should see for a job. I started the next day.”
I was shocked. “Get the fuck out.”
“I can’t because it’s true. I’m finishing my residency and studying for the Medical Board Exams. My job is to assist the doctors in the clinic and to do physicals, and it’s all thanks to you.”
I was shocked again. “Thanks to me? I thought I was an asshole.”
“You were, but in the best way. You held me up to myself. You said I was hiding and I was. I was hiding from my life. I couldn’t make anything right by working in your kitchen. Here I have a chance.”
“You keep talking about making something right. What does that mean?”
He squared his shoulders. “I was part of horrible things. I can’t take them back or make them right for the people who were wronged. Most of those people are dead. All I can do is to pile as much good on the other side of the scale to try to balance it out. I’m going to be the best doctor I can be. I’m going to make sure the men I see get the best care, the care they deserve. I’m going to make sure they get the services they need. I’ll never make much money working for the VA, but I can make a difference.
“I remembered the speech you gave me the day we met. We were in the diner, and you said your hands are tools. They’re for whatever you choose to use them. You said your life was the same. I’m going to use my life to help the men who served their country and came back with problems, physical problems, mental problems, drug problems. Whatever I can do is what I’m going to do. That’s how I’m going to make it right. A life spent in the service of others is a good life. That’s what I think, anyway. The old me was a taker. The new me is going to give.”
I agreed with his words about a life of service. I also took his hundred dollars from my wallet and handed it over. “You left this when you ran out. I don’t want it.”
He tried to refuse. “You did so much for me. I owe you.”
I insisted. “What I did for you was my way of heaping good on the other side of the balance. We’re in the same boat. I’m trying to make it right, just like you. I can’t undo the monstrous things I’ve done. I can do good, though. I spent some of my time in service to you. That means I can’t keep this money. It’s yours. Spend it on yourself or donate it to a good cause.”
He accepted the bills and folded them away. “Thanks, Law, for everything you did for me. You took me in when I needed someone to talk to. You gave me someone to save. You praised me for my work and gave me credit for what Walt accomplished all on his own. You enlisted me to get Walt out of the city, and you trusted me with your apartment. You reminded me that I could be responsible. You reminded me what it was like to have a comfortable place to live and a regular job to go to and responsibilities to someone other than my miserable self. Once you taught me everything you could, you held me up to myself and shoved me out of the nest like a baby bird who needs to learn to fly.
“I was mad as hell the night I left. Since then, I learned you were right. I wanted to go back and thank you a million times, but my pride wouldn’t let me.” He shook his head. “Would you listen to me? I’m doing it again. I guess in some ways I’m still a coward. I couldn’t even be honest about wanting to thank you. The truth is, I wanted to thank you, but I held a grudge for what you said. I was afraid you’d rub my nose in it. I was afraid if I was honest with you and admitted that I was hiding, you’d give me the ‘I told you so’ that I deserve. I didn’t want to face it. That’s why when I saw you in the cafeteria, I ran.”
I admitted that I understood. “I get it. I won’t bore you with the details, but I’ve held myself apart from people because I was worried they’d gloat if I came to them. I said awful things to you. I apologize for what I said and I deserved you holding yourself apart from me.”
He accepted my apology. “I’m glad you came today. I’m glad I didn’t run away again. I saw your name on the list of patients and told the nurse to assign you to me. I’m sorry you worried about me. I’d like to say I would have reached out if I’d have known, but I might not have.”
I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. You’re here now and I know you’re safe. I’m so relieved.”
“I owe you a lot. I know you’ll never let me pay it back, but you should keep an eye on me, because I’m going to be the best damn doctor this VA has ever seen. If you like, I’ll even look after you personally. I’ll put a note on your chart, and they’ll let me know when you book an appointment.”
I stood and shook his hand again. I was thrilled for him and thrilled that I was right to help him when he needed it. “I looked everywhere for you. I went to the Y and met Malcom and Lion. I met Tiny and helped him escape to Canada. I even visited your mother. I’m sorry about that last one. Walt was with me and I told her what our relationship was and that you’d stayed with us and she laughed about you being ‘shacked up with two old queens.’ She was looking forward to telling your father so they could both laugh about it.”
He frowned and shook his head. “I don’t know what to say. I can’t believe you went that far. I liked Lion. I should look him up. I also liked Tiny. He got a raw deal out of life. You really helped him go to Canada?”
“Yeah, he told me his story and I couldn’t let him go to war, or worse, to prison.”
“Thanks for helping him. As for my folks, you’ve got nothing to apologize for there. I’m sorry you had to suffer my mother, but in a way, I’m kind-of glad you did because now you understand why I couldn’t go home when I got back from Nam.”
“I understand completely, and even if the visit didn’t help me find you, it helped Walt. Your mother’s housekeeper was at the end of her rope. Walt brought her in for an interview and Owen hired her as the new hostess. She’s doing very well.”
He laughed. “My mother never could keep help. I’m sure that woman is much happier where she is than where she was.”
“I also wrote you a letter. The Merchantville post office put it in your box.”
He shrugged. “I haven’t been over to check the box since I talked to Mister Forsythe’s class. I’m overdue, but I’ve been busy.”
I shrugged as well because the letter no longer mattered. “I don’t know what you believe, but I believe God brought us together. You saved my husband and you helped me. The memory of our last discussion haunted me. It dredged up so much ugliness that I’d buried way down deep in my soul. I took the ugliness to my priest and he helped me deal with it. I’m still sorry for what I said that drove you away, but I’m glad that it seems to have worked out for both of us.”
“I’m not sure what I believe either. I’m working on it. I’m glad we met, Law. My life was going nowhere and now it’s going somewhere. You helped me get better. It seems I helped you do the same. I guess we both won.”
I agreed. “I guess we did.”
He smiled like he heard a joke that I wasn’t in on.
“What?” I asked.
“This might sound awkward after all that heartfelt stuff, but I need you to strip.”
“Strip?”
“For your physical.”
I remembered what I was doing there and laughed like a nut.
He conducted my physical while I caught him up on Walt’s recovery and the fact that we’d sold a half interest in the restaurant to Owen. He was pleased to hear that everything was working out. He asked me to give both Walt and Owen his regards.
He checked me over and said I was as healthy as a sixty-eight-year-old man was likely to be. My heart was strong and my body sound. I was welcome to travel to Montana by train or plane or any other way I wanted to go. He ordered some blood drawn to test whatever they look for in blood. One of the nurses came in to harpoon me. Doc said I would receive a telephone call in a week with the results.
He took down my telephone number and gave me his. He promised to phone and come for dinner in a week or so. He promised to bring a woman he’d been seeing. I looked forward to meeting her. We shook hands again and I left.
When I got into the parking lot, I raised my eyes to the grey, February sky. “Thank you for that, Lord. I don’t think I’ve ever had a prayer answered that fast before. Doc looks great. I hope this girl he’s dating is better than the last one. He seems like he’s on the right track. Thank you for looking out for him like I asked. He’s a good man. I’m glad he can finally see that.”
I realized the parallel between my recent efforts and Doc’s. “Maybe I’m not as much a monster as I’ve been telling myself. Thanks for holding a mirror to my face. I guess we all need that once in a while.”
I hugged myself because it was freezing outside and hurried to the car.
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