Fractured Eden (2 page)

                                         
Chapter 2

Am I really up for this?
Aaron thought.

He stepped into his white Volvo sedan and lowered the driver side window. Out in the street, he filled his lungs with fresh air. It was Monday morning, the first day at his new job. 

He shook his head.
I can hardly believe I’m here, in Hicksville, in the middle of nowhere.

A smell of pine trees piqued his nose as he rolled to the end of his street and turned right onto the road that led to his family practice clinic.

Aaron squeezed the steering wheel with both hands, his knuckles white. “Who was the son of a bitch that complained about me back in Connecticut?” He sighed. “Surely I’m as good as any other family doc—”

“Geez,” he shouted as he stomped his brakes. His tires squealed to a stop just short of a large green turtle plodding across the road.

Gasping for air, he glanced in the rearview mirror. No car was behind him.

“My tires . . . might not . . . last long around here.”

He slowed his breathing, got out, and walked to the front of the car.

Safe and sound at the side of the road, the turtle looked back at Aaron.

“Turtle dude, you look mighty pleased with yourself.” Aaron stared into the turtle’s eyes. “I think this has happened to you before. Maybe you like the smell of burnt rubber?”

Aaron eased the car past the turtle and drove the short remaining distance to his office. He pulled into a parking space in front of the clinic at 7:30 a.m.

He sat and studied the building through the windshield.
It’s just as I remembered. The outer walls are made of brick, so this place could be here for a long time.
He glanced up at the sky.
I wonder when the last tornado came through here.
Aaron’s heart skipped a beat as he unlocked and opened the front door of the clinic.

He turned to look as two other cars entered the parking area.

One of them must be Stella
. He’d learned of her from the owner of the clinic building. She was the office nurse of the previous doctor, and Aaron had spoken with her by phone. “Yes, I’m available,” she’d said. She’d been making ends meet by providing in-home nursing care for patients who could afford it.

Aaron held the door for an attractive black woman. “Stella?”

“That’s me.”

“Good morning. It’s lucky for me to work with someone with experience here.”

“I’m glad to be back.”

Another woman walked toward the door, and Stella motioned with her hand. “This is Juliana, our receptionist and billing expert.”

“Good. Someone to make sure we all make a living and pay the rent,” Aaron said.

Juliana laughed. “That’s what I’m good at.”

She and Aaron followed Stella into the clinic. Standing in the middle of the waiting room, Stella smiled at Aaron. “It’ll be good to see this place alive with patients again. Come along and I’ll show you how I set up everything.”

Aaron followed Stella on a tour of the waiting room, four treatment rooms, the doctor’s office, and a small lounge in the back with a refrigerator and coffee maker.

“I know it smells kind of musty in here,” Stella said. “This place hasn’t been used for a while, so I came in yesterday to tidy up what I could. I put in new light bulbs, and I’ve ordered supplies.”

        At the rear of the clinic, Aaron stood in the doorway of his office. Light from the morning sun streaked in through partially opened window blinds.

He settled into his office chair and explored the desk drawers, then strolled around the room and flipped through a few medical books from two wall shelves.

I guess the last doctor didn’t want these books. Maybe he or she left in a hurry.

An hour later, he walked into a patient room and saw a woman in tears. He closed the door behind him.

“I’m Dr. Rovsing. How can I help you?”

“I’m falling apart. I can’t sleep,” the woman said between sobs. “I cry all the time.” She held a tissue to her eyes. “Maybe if I could just get some sleep.”

“Has this happened to you before?”

She took a deep breath. “No. My daughter disappeared two weeks ago. She’s sixteen. Everyone thinks she just ran away, but I know she wouldn’t do that.”

“The police are looking into it?”

“Yes, along with all my friends and neighbors.” She sobbed into the tissue.

Aaron waited as she composed herself. She looked up at him. “I’m sorry. It’s so hard for me to talk about this.”

Aaron examined her pupils, heart, and lungs, and prescribed a mild sedative. “I hope this helps you, and I pray you find her.”

Just after noon, Aaron dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief and adjusted the thermostat a few degrees cooler until the air conditioner was blasting arctic air. He stood under a vent for several minutes to cool off and then followed the aroma of coffee to the lounge and poured himself a cup. He sat with Stella and Juliana at a small table and studied them while they talked. Stella was a bit overweight; Juliana was slender. They were about the same height: Aaron guessed about five feet seven. Stella had a jolly face, and appeared to be mid-forties and about twenty years or so older than Juliana, who had smooth Hispanic facial features.

“Did you bring family with you?” Stella said to Aaron.

“No family, no kids. I divorced a few months ago.”

“Well, I think you picked a good place to start over.”

“I hope you’re right. How long have you lived here?”

“A long time, over twenty years,” Stella said.

“Only three years for me,” Juliana said.

Aaron looked at Stella. “You probably know everyone in town.”

“Oh, yeah. I can help you with medical histories, for sure.” She raised an eyebrow. “You can bet most everybody for miles around knows about the new doctor. I expect many folks will drop by this week just to check you out.”

“No problem. I’ll get to know everyone sooner or later.”

Stella shook her head. “Maybe not everyone.”

Aaron put his cup down. “Why do you say that?”

“I’m thinking of the Taggetts. Wanda Taggett used to take her husband, Sid, to nearby hospitals every few months. He’d often go by ambulance. She takes care of him in their home when he’s not in the hospital. For the last few months, I don’t think he even gets out of bed much.”

“I met a Wanda in the diner down the road. Is that her?” Aaron said.

“That’s her, Wanda Taggett.”

“What’s wrong with her husband?”

“I heard it was some kind of neurologic disease. Wanda says no one can figure out exactly what his problem is. I think they recently ran out of money for a lot of medical visits and tests. They don’t come here to the clinic anymore.”

“Surely she’ll let me examine him at home,” Aaron said.

“Good luck with that. She hasn’t let any visitors inside that house and Sid hasn’t been back to the hospital since the state tried to remove her husband and son from the home a few months ago. She fought back, and husband and son are still with her in the house.”

“That’s serious. Someone must’ve complained about her.”

“We figured the hospital did. I think they were worried she was unfit as a caregiver.”

“She seemed a reasonable person when I talked with her in the diner.”

“Away from her home, she can be as normal as you or me.”

Aaron smiled. “You don’t know me that well yet.”

Stella laughed. “That’s all we need. Another strange person in this town.”

Late afternoon, as Aaron approached a patient room, Stella walked up to him and whispered in his ear. “He’s got a loud voice, so I like to put him away from other patients. You know, for privacy reasons.”

Aaron nodded and entered the room. A large man in a cowboy shirt and boots stood and extended a thick, weather-beaten hand. “I’m Grant Belkin. Welcome to our town.”

“Glad to be here,” Aaron said.
I finally meet a real cowboy
.

“I need my blood pressure medicine refilled, and I wanted to meet you. I run the ranch behind your house.” His words echoed around the room.

“So those are your cattle. They’re a fine looking bunch.”

“Sometimes they make a lot of noise. I hope they don’t bother you.”

Aaron smiled. “I don’t think that will be a problem.”

“Good.” Grant put his hands in the pockets of his jeans and looked down. “Anyway, they’ve been quiet lately.”

“Maybe they’re content?”

“Nope. When they’re quiet, I get worried.”

“Worried about what?”

Grant raised his head and started to say something, then he closed his mouth and smiled. “I guess I just worry more than most people.”

Aaron put the stethoscope to his ears and listened to Grant’s heart and lungs, and then completed a thorough physical examination. He handed Grant a prescription and watched as he walked out of the clinic.

Aaron’s brow was furrowed.
That was a strange light in his eyes.

That evening, Aaron sat in his home office at the computer and typed in key words for an internet search.
I need to find a good happy hour place. Got to have my evening wine.

After reading about several local bars, he decided on a nearby restaurant. He found a space for his car in the crowded parking lot and strolled into the lounge. Most of the bar chairs were occupied with chatty drinkers, but he spotted an empty space near one end around a corner of the bar. As he nestled into his chair, he nodded at the people around him. He looked twice at the man to his right, in the last bar chair against the wall.

That man turned to Aaron. “Howdy. I’m Red.”

Aaron glanced at the sparse hair at the sides of his head, and the man smiled. “It’s short for Redmond. I never had red hair.”

“I’m Aaron. I’m new around here.”

“Good to hear that. You’re not just traveling through.”

He must be well over eighty, maybe in his nineties,
Aaron thought.

Aaron ordered a cabernet wine with clam chowder and Caesar salad. He leaned toward Red. “So you’ve lived here a while?”

“Many years. I stopped counting, and I’m too old to live anywhere else. Not that I want to.”

“I guess you’re well-adapted to the heat by now.”

“I’m careful. Like most everyone else, I try to find someplace cool in the middle of the day. Do that, and you’ll be fine.”

“What do you do for entertainment?”

“Entertainment? I walk my dog, watch my vegetables grow, and …” He looked at Aaron and smiled. “I come here.”

“This area seems to be a safe place to live, compared to the big cities that I’m used to.”

“It’s safe enough, but we’ve got our share of criminals and crazies, just like everywhere else.”

After more small talk and two glasses of wine for Aaron, Red looked down at his pocket watch and pushed his chair back. “It’s time for me to go. I’ve got to tend to my dog.”

Aaron paid his bill, and the bartender brought back change. “I see you met Red Relford.”

“Interesting guy.”

       “He’s been coming in here for a long time, most nights every week. He sits in that same chair and has two snifters of brandy.”

“Do you know how old he is?”

“He won’t say.”

“I’ll bet he’s got stories to tell.”

“You might get lucky there. He won’t talk to most folks.”

Back home, Aaron plopped down on the carpeted floor of his office and grinned at times as he rummaged through the boxes of school memorabilia. He studied photos of college parties and happy people in colorful clothes and outlandish poses.

Here I am, drunk on beer, marching right over a VW Beetle, from back to front. Someone snapped a photo of me stepping off the hood.

He picked up a photo of a beaming couple in graduation outfits.
They didn’t make it. Like me, married and divorced.

Aaron frowned when he came across a photo of his ex-wife. He stared at Lauren’s photo for a minute or so, then returned it to the pile, upside down.

From another box, he retrieved a photo of his graduating medical school class and a later photo of a class reunion. Several of his med school classmates weren’t at the reunion. One had committed suicide. Aaron looked up toward the ceiling.

One thing I hadn’t realized in med school: how prevalent mental illness is.

He paced around the room
. I wonder if I’ll go crazy someday.