Contagion (25 page)

     Jack declined. Through Warren he understood that the gangs did not fear the police. Consequently, Jack knew the police could not protect him from the gangs, so he decided not to tell the police everything. But at least he’d satisfied Terese’s demand and would be able to collect insurance on his bike.

     “Excuse me, Doc,” David Jefferson said as the police were leaving. Jack had informed them he was a medical examiner. “How come you live in this neighborhood? Aren’t you asking for trouble?”

     “I ask myself the same question,” Jack said.

     After the police had left, Jack closed his splintered door and leaned against it while surveying his apartment. Somehow he would have to find the energy to clean it up. At the moment it seemed like an overwhelming task.

     A knock that he could feel more than hear made him reopen the door. It was Terese.

     “Ah, thank God it’s you,” Terese said. She came into the apartment. “You weren’t kidding when you said this wasn’t the best neighborhood. Just climbing these stairs was a trauma. If it hadn’t been you opening the door I might have screamed.”

     “I tried to warn you,” Jack said.

     “Let me look at you,” Terese said. “Where’s the best light?”

     Jack shrugged. “You choose,” he said. “Maybe the bathroom.”

     Terese dragged Jack into the bathroom and examined his face. “You have a tiny cut over your jawbone,” she said.

     “I’m not surprised, Jack said. He then showed her the chipped tooth.

     “Why did they beat you up?” Terese said. “I hope you weren’t playing hero.”

     “Quite the contrary,” Jack said. “I was terrified into total immobility. I was sucker-punched. This was evidently some kind of warning for me to stay out of the Manhattan General.”

     “What on earth are you talking about?” Terese demanded.

     Jack told her all the things he hadn’t told the police. He even told her why he hadn’t told the police.

     “This is getting more and more unbelievable,” Terese said. “What are you going to do?”

     To tell the truth, I haven t had a lot of time to think about it,” Jack said.

     “Well, I know one thing you are going to do,” Terese said. “You are going to the emergency room.”

     “Come on!” Jack complained. “I’m fine. My jaw is sore, but big deal.”

     “You were knocked out,” Terese reminded him. “You should be seen. I’m not even a doctor and I know that much.”

     Jack opened his mouth to protest further, but he didn’t; he knew she was right. He should be seen. After a head injury serious enough to render him unconscious, there was the worry of intracranial hemorrhage. He should have a basic neurological exam.

     Jack rescued his jacket from the floor. Then he followed Terese down the stairs to the street. To catch a cab they walked to Columbus Avenue.

     “Where do you want to go?” Terese asked once they were in the taxi.

     “I think I’ll stay away from the General for the time being,” Jack said with a smile. “Let s go uptown to Columbia-Presbyterian.”

     “Free,” Terese said. She gave directions to the cabdriver and settled back in her seat.

     “Terese, I really appreciate your coming over,” Jack said. “You didn’t have to, and I certainly didn’t expect it. I’m touched.”

     “You would have done it for me,” Terese said.

     Would he have? Jack wondered. He didn’t know. The whole day had been confusing.

     The visit to the emergency room went smoothly. They had to wait as auto accidents, knife wounds, and heart attacks were given priority. Eventually Jack was seen. Terese insisted on staying the whole time and even accompanied him into the examining room.

     When the ER resident learned Jack was a medical examiner, he insisted Jack be seen by the neurology consult. The neurology resident went over Jack with utmost care. He declared him fit and said he didn’t even think an X ray was indicated unless Jack felt strongly otherwise. Jack didn’t.

     “The one thing I do recommend is that you be observed overnight,” the neurology resident said. He then turned to Terese and said: “Mrs. Stapleton, just wake him up occasionally and make sure he behaves normally. Also check that his pupils remain the same size. Okay?”

     “Okay,” Terese said.

     Later as they were walking out of the hospital Jack commented that he was impressed with her equanimity when she’d been addressed as Mrs. Stapleton.

     “I thought it would have embarrassed the man to have corrected him,” Terese said. “But I’m going to take his recommendations quite seriously. You are coming home with me.”

     “Terese...” Jack complained.

     “No arguments!” Terese commanded. “You heard the doctor. There’s no way I’d allow you to go back to that hellhole of yours tonight.”

     With his head mildly throbbing and his jaw aching and his stomach sore, Jack surrendered. “Okay,” he said. “But this is all far beyond the call of duty.”

     Jack felt truly grateful as they rode up in the elevator in Terese’s posh high-rise. No one had been as gracious to him as Terese in years. Between her concern and generosity he felt that he’d misjudged her.

     “I’ve a guest room that I’m confident you’ll find comfortable,” she said as they walked down a carpeted hallway. “Whenever my folks come to town it is hard to get them to leave.”

     Terese’s apartment was picture perfect. Jack was amazed how neat it was. Even the magazines were arranged carefully on the coffee table, as if she expected Architectural Digest to do a photo shoot. The guest room was quaint with flower-print drapes, carpet, and bedspread that all matched. Jack joked that he hoped he didn’t get disoriented since he might have trouble finding the bed.

     After providing Jack with a bottle of aspirin, Terese left him to shower. After he’d finished, he donned a terry-cloth bathrobe, which she’d laid out. Thus attired, he poked his head out into the living room and saw her sitting on the couch reading. He walked out and sat across from her.

     “Aren’t you going to bed?” he asked.

     “I wanted to be sure you were okay,” she said. She leaned forward to stare directly into his face. “Your pupils look equal to me.”

     “To me too,” Jack said. He laughed. “You are taking those doctor’s orders seriously.”

     “You’d better believe it,” she said. “I’ll be coming in to wake you up, so be prepared.”

     “I know better than to argue,” Jack said.

     “How do you feel in general?” Terese asked.

     “Physically or mentally?”

     “Mentally,” Terese said. “Physically I have a pretty good idea.”

     “To be truthful, the experience has scared me,” Jack admitted. “I know enough about these gangs to be afraid of them.”

     “That’s why I wanted you to call the police,” Terese said.

     “You don’t understand,” Jack said. “The police can’t really help me. I mean, I didn’t even bother to tell them the possible name of the gang or the first names of the intruders. Even if the police picked them up, all they’d do is slap their wrists. Then they’ll be back on the street.”

     “So what are you going to do?” Terese asked.

     “I suppose I’m going to stay the hell away from the General,” Jack said. “Seems like that’s going to make everybody happy. Even my own boss told me not to go. I suppose I can do my job without going over there.”

     “I’m relieved,” Terese said. “I was worried you’d try to be a hero and take the warning as a challenge.”

     “You said that before,” Jack said. “But don’t worry. I’m no hero.”

     “What about this bike-riding around this city?” Terese asked. “And riding through the park at night? And what about living where you do? The fact is, I do worry. I worry that you’re either oblivious to danger or courting it. Which is it?”

     Jack looked into Terese’s pale blue eyes. She was asking questions that he strictly avoided. The answers were too personal. But after the concern that she’d demonstrated that evening and the effort she’d expended on his behalf, he felt she deserved some explanation. “I suppose I have been courting danger,” he said.

     “Can I ask why?”

     “I guess I haven’t been worried about dying,” Jack said. “In fact, there was a time when I felt dying would be a relief. A few years back I had trouble with depression, and I suppose it’s always going to be there in the background.”

     “I can relate to that,” Terese said. “I had a bout with depression as well. Was yours associated with a particular event, if I may ask?”

     Jack bit the inside of his lip. He felt uncomfortable talking about such issues, but now that he’d started it was hard to turn back. “My wife died,” Jack managed. He couldn’t get himself to mention the children.

     “I’m sorry,” Terese said sympathetically. She paused a moment and then said: “Mine was due to the death of my only child.”

     Jack turned his head away. Terese’s admission brought instant tears to his eyes. He took a deep breath and then looked back at this complicated woman. She was a hard-driving executive; of that he was sure from the moment he’d met her. But now he knew there was more. “I guess we have more in common than just disliking discos,” he said in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

     “I think we’ve both been emotionally scarred,” Terese said. “And we’ve both overly invested ourselves in our careers.”

     “I’m not so sure we share that,” Jack said. “I’m not as committed to my career as I once was, nor as I think you are. The changes that have come to medicine have robbed me of some of that.”

     Terese stood up. Jack did the same. They were standing close enough to appreciate each other physically.

     “I guess I meant more that we both are afraid of emotional commitment,” Terese said. “We’ve both been wounded.”

     “That I can agree to,” Jack said.

     Terese kissed the tips of her fingers and then touched them gently to Jack’s lips.

     “I’ll be in to wake you in a few hours,” she said. “So be prepared.”

     “I hate to be putting you through all this,” Jack said.

     “I’m enjoying this little bit of mothering,” Terese said. “Sleep well.”

     They parted. Jack walked back toward the guest room, but before he got to the door, Terese called out: “One more question: Why do you live in that awful slum?”

     “I guess I don’t feel as if I deserve to be all that happy,” Jack said.

     Terese thought about that for a moment, then smiled. “Well, I shouldn’t imagine I’d understand everything,” she said. “Good night.”

     “Good night,” Jack echoed.

     21

     SATURDAY, 8:30 A.M., MARCH 23, 1996

     True to her word, Terese had come into Jack’s room and awakened him several times during the night. Each time they’d talked for a few minutes. By the time Jack awakened in the morning he felt conflicted. He was still thankful for Terese’s ministrations, but he felt embarrassed by how much of himself he’d revealed.

     As Terese made him breakfast, it became apparent that she felt as awkward as he. At eight-thirty, with mutual relief, they parted company in front of Terese’s building. She was off to the studio for what she thought would be a marathon session. He headed for his apartment.

     Jack spent a few hours cleaning up the debris left by the Black Kings. With some rudimentary tools he even repaired his door as best he could.

     With his apartment taken care of, Jack headed to the morgue. He wasn’t scheduled to work that weekend, but he wanted to spend more time on his backlog of autopsies that had yet to be signed out. He also wanted to check on any infectious cases that might have come in during the night from the General. Knowing that there had been three reportedly fulminant cases of Rocky Mountain spotted fever in the emergency room the day before, he was afraid of what he might find.

     Jack missed his bike and thought about getting another one. To get to work he took the subway, but it wasn’t convenient. He had to change trains twice. The New York subway system was fine for getting from north to south, but west to east was another story entirely. Even with the multiple train changing Jack still had to walk six blocks. With a light rain falling and no umbrella, he was wet by the time he got to the medical examiner’s office at noon.

     Weekends were far different than weekdays at the morgue. There was much less commotion. Jack used the front entrance and had the receptionist buzz him into the ID area. A distraught family was in one of the identification rooms. Jack could hear sobbing as he passed by.

     Jack found the schedule that listed the doctors on call for the weekend and was pleased to see that Laurie was among them. He also found the master list of cases that had come in the previous night. Scanning it, he was sickened to see a familiar name. Nancy Wiggens had been brought in at four A.M.! The provisional diagnosis was Rocky Mountain spotted fever.

     Jack found two more cases with the same diagnosis: Valerie Schafer, aged thirty-three, and Carmen Chavez, aged forty-seven. Jack assumed they were the other two cases in the General’s emergency room the day before.

     Jack went downstairs and peeked into the autopsy room. Two tables were in use. Jack couldn’t tell who the doctors were, but judging by height he guessed one of them was Laurie.

     After changing into scrubs and donning protective gear, Jack entered through the washroom.

     “What are you doing here?” Laurie asked when she caught sight of Jack. “You’re supposed to be off enjoying yourself.”

     “Just can’t keep away,” Jack quipped. He leaned over to see the face ‘of the patient Laurie was working on and his heart sank. Staring up at him with lifeless eyes was Nancy Wiggens. In death she appeared even younger than she had in life. Jack quickly looked away.

     “Did you know this individual?” Laurie asked. Her own emotional antennae had instantly picked up Jack’s reaction.

     “Vaguely,” Jack admitted.

     “It’s a terrible thing when health-care workers succumb to their patients’ illnesses,” Laurie remarked. “The patient I did before this one was a nurse who’d ministered to the patient you did yesterday.”