Plague Ship (3 page)

He led the way into the sick bay and saw his daughter Kit standing by the reception desk. She looked badly frightened and had tears welling up in her eyes.

David quickly knelt in front of the young girl and asked, “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“My—my friend Will,” Kit stammered. “He’s got a gumball stuck way down in his throat and it won’t come out. You’ve got to help him, Dad!”

“I will,” David promised and hurried into the treatment room. A young boy, no more than twelve, with tousled auburn hair and freckled cheeks, was seated on the edge of the examining table. His labored breathing caused an audible wheeze, but his skin color was good.

“Hi, Will,” David said calmly. “I’m Kit’s dad and I’m a doctor, and I’ve seen plenty of cases like yours.”

Will nodded rapidly and pointed to his lower throat. He sucked deeply for air and that made him wheeze even louder.

“I want you to talk,” David requested. “Tell me your full name.”

The boy swallowed and squeaked, “Will Harrison.”

“Good,” David said. “The fact that you can talk means air is passing through your larynx and that means you’re not blocked off all the way. And that means we can take our time getting that gumball out. Okay?”

Will nodded nervously.

David turned to the ship’s doctor. “Did you try a Heimlich
maneuver?”

“Three times,” Maggio answered. “And the obstruction didn’t budge.”

“Let me give it a go.”

“Be my guest.”

David moved behind Will and, using clasped hands, forcefully compressed the boy’s upper abdomen. The gumball stayed stuck in place. He tried once again, with the same result. “I’ll need a laryngoscope,” David said to Maggio. “I trust you’ve got one.”

“We do,” Maggio replied. “But the boy kept fighting me and turning away, so I couldn’t insert it.”

“Did you anesthetize his throat before trying it?”

“We don’t have any topical anesthetic sprays.”

Carolyn stepped forward. “Do you have Xylocaine?”

“Yes,” Maggio said. “But it’s only for injection.”

“It’ll do,” Carolyn told him. “We’ll need a couple of ccs drawn up in a syringe.”

Maggio looked at her oddly. “But you can’t inject—”

“Stop wasting time and get the Xylocaine,” Carolyn cut him off, then turned to the nurse. “And bring me some long cotton swabs.”

The nurse hesitated and glanced over to Maggio for his approval.

“Now!” Carolyn barked.

The nurse hurried away.

David patted the boy’s shoulder and said, “Will, we’re going to get that gumball out, but you have to do exactly what we say. Got it?”

Will nodded, his eyes dancing around the room anxiously.

“For a moment you’ll feel like you’re choking, but then it’ll be over and you’ll be breathing fine.”
And if he puts up a fight
, David told himself,
I’ll sedate him with IV Valium, assuming this ship has IV Valium
. “Okay?”

Will’s eyes bulged with fright. “Ch-choking?” he managed to say.

“Just for a second.”

The nurse returned with a syringe of Xylocaine and a handful of cotton swabs. She handed them to Carolyn, who promptly squirted the Xylocaine onto the cotton ends of the swabs until they were soaked.

“Now, Will,” Carolyn said soothingly, “I want you to open our mouth real wide, so I can touch the back of your throat with these cotton swabs. It’ll taste bitter, but it will numb your throat and that will let us get that old gumball out.”

Will followed Carolyn’s instructions and, despite repeated gagging, allowed her to paint his posterior pharynx with Xylocaine. Meanwhile, David was examining the sick bay’s only laryngoscope. It was adult-size.

“Have you got anything smaller?” David asked Maggio.

“I’m afraid not.”

“Terrific,” David muttered sarcastically, thinking he was aboard a luxury liner that cost a billion dollars to build, but had a second-rate sick bay. “We’ll have to make do.”

Carolyn called out, “He’s numbed up!”

“All right,” David said and turned to Will. “I want you to lie down, open your mouth, and close your eyes. It’ll be over before you know it.”

“Will it hurt?” the boy asked meekly.

“Not if you do what I tell you.”

With Will on his back, Carolyn moved to the front of the examining table. She held the youngster’s head tightly in her hands and immobilized it, then hyperextended his neck.

David quickly inserted the laryngoscope and squeezed it past the hard palate and into the boy’s hypopharynx. Will gagged forcefully, but David was still able to see a small gumball that was lodged aside the laryngeal opening. It was partially dissolved and beginning to come apart. David knew he had to be doubly careful because the gumball could easily fragment into pieces, which could be sucked down into the boy’s lungs. He grasped the gumball gently with long forceps and felt its firmness give, but the ball stayed intact. Slowly he extracted the mushy sphere, then held it up to the light for inspection. There was no evidence of fragmentation.

“Okay, Will,” David informed him. “We’re done.”

The boy sat up quickly and took several long, deep breaths to make certain his airway was now wide open. Relieved and reassured, he smiled at David and Carolyn and said, “Thanks.”

“Any time,” David said. “But I think you should stay away from gumballs. They can be dangerous.”

“This never happened before,” Will retorted, obviously not liking the prospect of no more gumballs.

“Well, I think we should make certain it never happens again.”

Will thought for a moment, then said, “Maybe I’ll just stick with chewing gum.”

“Good idea,” David approved. “Now scoot. There’s someone waiting for you outside.”

Will climbed off the examining table and, after taking a few more deep breaths, dashed out to the reception area. He smiled at Kit, saying, “Your dad is really cool!”

“I know,” Kit said proudly.

David watched the pair run out into the passageway, laughing and talking at the same time, as if nothing untoward had happened.

“God!” Carolyn marveled. “They’re so resilient.”

“If they weren’t, they’d never reach adulthood,” David said.

Leaving the sick bay, David put his arm around Carolyn’s waist and gave her an affectionate squeeze. “You were great! Without that Xylocaine, I could never have passed that laryngoscope.”

Carolyn shrugged off the compliment. “That old doctor and his nurse aren’t much good in emergencies, are they?”

“They’re mainly for show,” David said. “You know, to treat colds and seasickness.”

“And that’s all the sick bay is designed for too.”

David nodded. “It’s little more than a dispensary.”

“Why would they cut corners on something as important as a sick bay?”

David considered the question before answering. “I suspect the people who designed the ship weren’t interested in a high-tech sick bay. From a business standpoint, it doesn’t make sense to spend a lot of money on something you don’t anticipate using.”

“Suppose a really serious medical problem arises,” Carolyn thought out loud. “Like one involving a lot of people on this ship.”

“Then the sick would be in real trouble,” David said grimly. “And unless we could reach shore quickly, they’d be in deadly trouble.”

three

“We’re well away from
the storm’s path now,” David said as he gazed out at the gray-blue Atlantic Ocean. The water was calm except for a few choppy swells here and there. “I think we’ve seen the last of it.”

“Good riddance,” Carolyn said. “Let’s hope it takes all the emergency cases along with it.”

They strolled by the swimming pool area that was crowded with people in lounge chairs basking in the sun. Children were jumping into the pool and causing big splashes under the watchful eyes of their parents, while waiters were bringing over drinks from a nearby bar. A voice from the PA system told passengers that lunch would soon be served.

David groaned good-naturedly. “They never stop serving food aboard this ship, do they?”

“Most of which sounds better than it tastes,” Carolyn opined.

“Do you really mean that?” David asked.

“I sure do. As a matter of fact, I’m almost glad we missed the rest of dinner at the captain’s table last night.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not very big on pheasant, and it gave us an excuse to go to that nice little restaurant and have those delicious hamburgers.”

David shrugged indifferently as they walked by a group of joggers coming from the stern of the
Grand Atlantic
.

“Didn’t you love those juicy hamburgers?” Carolyn asked.

David shrugged again. “I’m a chili dog man, myself.”

Carolyn poked him gently with an elbow. “Eaten standing up, of course.”

“Of course,” David agreed. “Otherwise you’ll drip all over yourself.”

Out of nowhere there was a sudden, loud burst of rifle fire.

Reflexively, David dropped down to one knee and raised his left arm to protect his head. With his right hand, he reached for his weapon. But he couldn’t find it! Frantically he searched the deck for the semiautomatic M16.

“David! David”! He heard a voice calling him as he came out of the flashback. Slowly he got to his feet and collected himself, then waited for his heart to stop racing.

“Are you all right?” Carolyn asked, concerned.

“I’m fine.”

But in his mind he could still see himself in Somalia over twenty years ago. He, along with seven others in the Special Forces unit, were surrounded by a mob of jihadists, all screaming at the top of their lungs, “Death to Americans!”

The only thing that saved him was a heavily armed helicopter sent to pick them up and ferry them back to a destroyer stationed offshore.

“I thought those damn flashbacks were finally fading away,” Carolyn said, keeping her voice low.

“I did too.”

Richard Scott came racing over. He was holding a shotgun, with its breech open, by his side. “I was only doing a bit of skeet shooting. I had no idea it would frighten you the way it did.”

“It didn’t,” David told him.

“Well, the way you hit the deck,” Scott went on, “I would say otherwise.”

“Just drop the subject,” David said, now aware of the small crowd gathered around them.

“Is that an order?”

“It’s a request.”

“I’ll think it over.” Scott turned to the bikini-clad Deedee Anderson, who had come up beside him. “I’m afraid we scared the doctor with our skeet shooting.”

Deedee thought for a moment before saying, “Then he should stay away from guns.”

“Or learn about them,” Scott said and nodded at his own suggestion. “Yes. Perhaps I should instruct him in the proper use of guns. What do you say, doctor?”

“No, thanks,” David refused the offer.

“It’s quite easy.” Scott checked the open breech on his shotgun and blew away and imaginary speck of dust. “I’ll show you everything you need to know.”

“Maybe another time.”

“You don’t have to be afraid of guns,” Scott persisted. “If you know how to handle them, they can’t hurt you.”

“Oh yes, they can,” David said, then added darkly, “There are graves everywhere filled with brave men who knew all about guns.”

Before Scott could reply, David took Carolyn’s arm and walked away. Behind him he heard Richard Scott telling his girlfriend, “Skeet shooting is a man’s sport. Not everyone is cut out for it.”

David slowed momentarily and wondered how macho Scott would be with a hundred bloodthirsty terrorists charging him, all intent on slitting his throat so they could drag his body through the streets of Mogadishu. Once more his mind went back to Somalia and the piles of corpses and the overwhelming stench of death. All for nothing. Not a damn thing had changed over there.

“He’s got a big mouth,” Carolyn broke the silence.

David nodded as they strolled on. “He’s insecure and trying to prove he’s not.”

“To us?”

“To himself.”

Carolyn moved in closer to him and asked, “Do those flashbacks ever go away altogether?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Does everyone who ever fought in a war have those damn things?”

“Not everyone,” David said somberly. “Just those who came back alive.”

Up ahead they saw Marilyn Wyman, who waved and walked over to them. She was wearing a yellow sundress that was cut low enough to expose the upper part of her breasts. David noticed a small horizontal scar at the top of her left breast. It was a biopsy site. He hoped the lesion had turned out benign. She already had enough grief for one lifetime.

“Thank you so much, David,” Marilyn gushed. She reached out and gave his hand a grateful squeeze. “Thank you for saving my son, Will.”

David was taken aback. “I didn’t know that Will was your son. He told me his last name was Harrison.”

“It is,” Marilyn explained. “Harrison was my former husband’s name.”

“I see,” David said, nodding. “Well, he’s certainly a brave little fellow.”

“Would you believe he didn’t tell me anything about the choking episode?” Marilyn asked. “I learned everything from Dr. Maggio this morning. He told me you saved Will’s life.”

“He wasn’t in any real danger,” David downplayed it. “The gumball was off to one side of his throat.”

“But he still could have sucked it down in this lungs. Right?”

“It could have happened,” David agreed mildly.

“Then you saved him from
possible
suffocation,” Marilyn insisted. “And we owe you a debt we can never repay.”

“No payment is necessary.”

“Just the same. I want you and Carolyn to join us in the lounge before dinner for a nice bottle of Dom Pérignon.”

“We’ll look forward to it.”

The skeet shooting resumed, with one shot after another in rapid fire. Marilyn waited for the noise to quiet before continuing. “I wonder if I could impose on your medical knowledge a little further,” she said hesitantly. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” David said and again thought about the sandy beaches of Hawaii where he and Carolyn and Kit should be now. His eyes drifted to the well-healed scar on Marilyn’s breast. “Are you ill?”

“Not me,” Marilyn answered. “Sol.”

Carolyn grumbled to herself, but kept her face expressionless. Poor David, she thought, had suddenly become the ship’s go-to doctor. He would never be able to relax and enjoy himself on the
Grand Atlantic
. She felt like hanging a DO NOT DISTURB sign around his neck.

“What’s wrong with Sol?” David was asking.

“He has coronary artery disease,” Marilyn confided. “He’s undergone bypass surgery, but still has to take a variety of medicines to prevent his angina from recurring. We were assured there would be excellent medical care aboard the ship in case of any problem. But now I’m not so sure. The little doctor downstairs is a very nice man, but I’m not certain he’s up to date.”

Try twenty years behind time, Carolyn wanted to say but held her tongue.

“If any problem arises,” Marilyn went on, “could we turn to you for help?”

“Of course.”

“You’re very kind,” Marilyn said and reached into her purse for an envelope, which she handed to David. “And here is the name, address, and phone number of Sol’s friend in Los Angeles. He’s the one who knows so much about diamonds.”

“Thanks,” David said and winked at Carolyn.

“I wonder who the diamond is for?” Carolyn asked with a grin.

“I can’t tell you,” David grinned back. “It’s a surprise.”

Carolyn chuckled softly, delighted that her life was once again smooth and wonderful. The depression that followed her mother’s death from Alzheimer’s disease had finally lifted, and the memories of several failed relationships, which should have led to marriage but didn’t, had faded away. Now she had the ideal man and everything in her world was perfect. “Big secret, eh?”

“For now.”

The threesome strolled on as a warm breeze from the south freshened. The women chatted about the ship’s beauty spa and salon, and about shopping in the luxury stores located on the arcade level. Names such as Gucci, Bottega, and Bulgari were discussed at length. David blanked out the conversation, but his mind was still on Marilyn Wyman. A pleasant, attractive woman, well-to-do and refined, who seemingly had everything in the world. But that was on the surface. Scratch a little deeper and one found a world of sadness. A first marriage that ended in the premature death of her husband. A second marriage to a man with heart disease, who she constantly worried about. And then there was the biopsy on her breast that may or may not have revealed a malignancy. But chances were she palpated her breasts daily, looking for another lump to appear. The woman had bad karma and was waiting for the next terrible event to occur.

“Hi, Dad!” Kit’s voice brought him out of his reverie. She ran over to give him a tight hug.

“Hi, kiddo!” David hugged her back, loving her more than anybody or anything on the face of the earth. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” Kit told him, “but Juanita is still not feeling good.”

“Is she still seasick?”

“I guess,” Kit said with uncertainty. “She just says she feels bad.”

“Well, I’d better stop down to see her.” David kissed his daughter’s cheek and tried to think why the nanny would continue to be seasick. The sea was now calm and the few swells that did occur shouldn’t noticeably affect the stability of the
Grand Atlantic
. But David knew that even a few swells could cause the ship to gently bob, and that might be enough to exacerbate the symptoms in those suffering from severe seasickness. Like the second doctor and nurse aboard the luxury liner, who were still dizzy and nauseated. David kissed his daughter’s cheek again and said, “We have to take good care of her, don’t we?”

“I love Juanita,” Kit cooed.

“I know.”

Juanita Cruz was a naturalized American citizen who had left her native Costa Rica to get away from an abusive husband. She began working for the Ballineaus when Marianne was six months pregnant with Kit. After Marianne’s death, Juanita moved into their guest house and helped David raise Kit, like a surrogate mother. Juanita became an integral part of the family and loved Kit almost as much as her own daughter, who was currently a registered nurse at Grady Hospital in Atlanta.

“You’ll make her well, huh, Dad?” Kit said.

“I’ll get her fixed up,” David promised.

As Kit reached up to hug David again, a small notepad slipped out of the back pocket of her jeans and fell to the deck. She quickly retrieved it and smiled up at David. “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too.”

Securing the notepad in her back pocket, Kit blew him another kiss and ran back to a small restaurant that was just beyond the pool. She picked up her half-eaten hot dog, added more mustard, and bit into it, all the while talking with her new best friend, Will, who seemed to have most of his chili dog on his face.

“She’s adorable,” Marilyn commented.

“And bright as can be,” David noted with pride.

“Will thinks so too,” Marilyn said. “But tell me, why does she carry around that notepad?”

“She wants to be a writer,” David said. “So when she sees or hears something interesting, she immediately writes it down, then rewrites it in her diary for possible use in the future.”

Marilyn shook her head in wonderment. “Has she written anything thus far?”

“A play for her class in school based on a Harry Potter novel,” David replied. “It was surprisingly good.”

“It’s amazing how soon some children realize exactly what they want to do with their lives.”

“Yes, amazing,” David agreed, stealing another glance at Kit and thinking about how fast she was growing up right before his eyes. “What about Will? Has he decided what he wants to do later in life?”

Marilyn nodded. “He’d like to be a veterinarian. The boy just loves animals and taking care of them.” She laughed briefly to herself. “He wouldn’t come on the cruise unless I allowed him to take along his pet goldfish and turtle. And of course he also had to bring his book on what to do if pets get sick.”

“He sounds great,” David said and meant it.

“He is,” Marilyn beamed. “My only problem is coming up with ways to feed his interest in animal care. I’ve already bought him a dozen books on the subject.”

“What about more pets?” David proposed.

Marilyn rolled her eyes to the sky. “In addition to the goldfish and turtle, we have two dogs, a cat, and a parakeet. I don’t think more animals is the answer.”

“May I make a suggestion for Will?” Carolyn offered.

“Please do,” Marilyn said promptly.

“Well, when I was growing up, the boy next door was a real animal lover,” Carolyn told her. “Like Will, he really enjoyed looking after his pets. So his father arranged for him to work on the weekends, without pay, for the local vet. That boy is now the town’s veterinarian. You could talk with your vet and see if he can arrange a similar position for Will.”

“What a wonderful idea!” Marilyn exclaimed. “Thank you so much for that.”

“You’re very welcome,” Carolyn replied.

“Both of you are becoming so special to me,” Marilyn said warmly. “We’ll have two bottles of Dom Pérignon around seven tonight. Is that convenient for you?”

“Perfect,” Carolyn and David responded almost simultaneously.

“And thank you for agreeing to look after Sol if the need arises,” Marilyn said to David.