The Doctor's Tale (8 page)

“Miss Audrey,” Maypo said,” now I done tole you the woman was paid up, is whut I tole you. Isn’t that right, Mrs. Surlee ? She’s a busy lady, can’t you see that? We need to do our part, and let her go about her business.”

The conviction in Mary’s dark eyes underscored her determination. Right then, I believed she would be Joan of Arc, if that’s what it would take to adopt her grandson. After all, that baby boy was her “kin.” I could hear her now: “Jus’ laying claim to what already belongs to me, Doctor.”

“Your husband be ‘round here somewhere?” Audrey said. She glanced over Mary’s head, as if he might be there, conveniently hanging from the ceiling. When Mary didn’t answer, she turned to me.

“You must be Mr. Surlee,” Audrey said.

I could tell that she didn’t believe that was my name.

“Dr. Spezia is our family physician,” Mary said. “I thought it was essential and completely appropriate for him to accompany me today. Of course, Dr. Spezia agreed with me. After all, this is a very big day for the Surlee family.”

“Sure, sure,” Audrey said. “But, if it’s so big, like you say it is, where is your husband?”

“Mr. Surlee hasn’t arrived in this country yet, Audrey,” Maypo said. “Besides, that’s not what’s important. The Surlees done paid up. Now it’s time for us to do the same. C’mon, I’ll take him and help Mrs. Surlee out to her car.”

“Ya’ll have a car seat?” Audrey said. “Nobody leaves here without a car seat.”

“Got it covered,” Maypo said. “I’ll be driving Dr. Spezia and Mrs. Surlee to her house on—”

“The West End,” Mary said. “We live in a fine brick house on the Central West End. Just finished the renovations last month.” She sighed, and rolled her dark eyes. “They just went on forever.”

Audrey studied the baby’s face. “You know, this sounds absolutely crazy, but I do b’lieve this little man looks just like you, Mrs. Surlee. But, that couldn’t be, could it? I mean, how could he resemble you, in even the slightest way?”

Maypo extended his arms. “Okay, Audrey. That’s enough of this talk now. You got to let us have that little man, ‘cause we have got to go. I got tickets to the baseball game tonight, and I need time to get everybody settled.”

“Have the Surlees signed all the papers?” Audrey said.

“All of ‘em,” Maypo said. “Mrs. Surlee is very organized.”

“Okay, then.” Without hesitation, Audrey laid the infant in Mary’s
arms. “Now Mrs. Surlee, there’s a customer satisfaction survey in your packet. I’d appreciate it if you could give me all “fives.” That’s the highest.” She smiled, and revealed a row of straight, pearly teeth. “Could mean some good money for me somewhere down the road. I’d surely appreciate that.”

I saw Mary’s hand on the knob—turning, turning. She didn’t turned around, even when she whispered something to me about following her to the front door. “I’ll fill it out right away, soon’s I get to my house, over on the West End,” she said. “And don’t worry now. You be getting all fives from me. Sixes, if I can find a way. I’ll be on my way now.”

“Audrey!” A raspy voice echoed over the loudspeaker. “Audrey, pick up the phone immediately.” Audrey shrugged. “Sure, you go on. Just don’t forget about those papers. All fives, hear?” She cradled the receiver on her shoulder and waved—right before a scowl crossed her face.

“Attorney?” She said. “For who? The Surlees already done picked up their baby. What do you mean, how?” She grimaced. “I don’t have to tell you that. I don’t have to tell you anything. Listen, Mr. Big-Time Lawyer, nobody talks to me like that.” She slammed the receiver into the cradle. “Everyone thinks they know how to do my job better than I do.” She shook her head. “Rude, that’s what I say. And rude is what he is.”

After our hasty exit, we all struggled to catch our breath in an alley behind the Center. “I can’t b’lieve we did that,” Maypo said. “You know, I believe I’m gonna need a new job now. Seriously. I don’t think I can go back there.” Maypo took a deep breath. “Did ya’ll hear me?”

“Huh? Maypo, what you be running your mouth about now?” Mary cradled the baby in her thick arms. “You want another job, Dr. Spezia will find you one over at the hospital. I got what I want, and Mary don’t forget a kindness, now. You’ll get everything’s comin’ to you, baby.”

“We better get moving,” Maypo said, “because I got a feeling I know some other people who don’t forget nothing, either.”

“You mean like that rack of bones they got sitting at the front desk?” Mary chuckled, and her shoulders shook with laughter. “They need to
pay the woman a little something, so’s she can buy herself something to eat. I’ve seen people ten steps away from heaven look better than M. Gaines. Lordy!”

“Where you gone go now, Mary?” Maypo said.

“Whatchoo think? I’m going take the baby to D’Yan’s. His mama got to feed him, don’t she?”

“You think D’Yan’s gonna be happy to see him? Do she want him back? If I know you, and I do know you, I bet you didn’t tell her you were coming here today. Did you?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care. It’s none of your business, Maypo. Somebody has to talk for my boy.”

Maypo’s weathered face dissolved into a broad smile.

“Guess that would be you, huh, Mary?” He gazed at the slumbering baby. “He’s a good little dude, ain’t he? Pretty baby, too. Check out them eyelashes.” Maypo stopped talking. His eyes filled with concern. “What’s all that noise about? Sounds like sirens.”

“I need to go on now.” Mary cuddled the sleeping infant, and savored the warmth that filled her soul. She turned and waved to the man she loved like a brother, before she strode down the sidewalk.

“I better get back to the hospital,” I said, “before somebody notices how long I ‘ve been gone.”

“Yeah, right.” Maypo chuckled. “I bet they all just be standing on their ear, waiting for you to show up and do all the work.” The muscular man shook his head. “I’m going to go grab some burgers over at the White Castle. Want to come?”

“I’d better take a rain check today,” I said. “But, hit me up again sometime.”

Maypo grinned. “Sure thing. I’ll look you up at the hospital sometime.” With a wave of his hand and a wink of his eye, Maypo crossed the street and dashed into the fast food restaurant, designed and built to resemble a small castle. To me, it looked like everyone in the crowded restaurant knew his name. He belonged there. I strolled towards City
Hospital. In that fleeting moment, the difference in our “kingdoms” felt like a gaping wound.

Who did I think I was kidding? With the possible exception of Dr. Skelton, no one at City Hospital watched me or the clock. The rest of the folks had all the time in the world. I climbed the steps to the glass doors, and a single thought exploded in my head. Perhaps they had the right idea.

At that moment, I heard the staccato sound of my beeper. I asked the receptionist if I could use her phone to return the call. She shrugged in indifference, and opened a bag of Doritos. Nice. Rapidly, I dialed the number.

“Hello?” I said. “Dr. Spezia answering a page.”

“Hi, Doctor, it’s Mary Potts.”

“Are you all right?”

“I’m at D’Yan’s house. You know, my daughter. I just wanted you to know, I’m coming back to make up for the time I was gone today.”

“Your voice sounds pretty shaky. Is everything all right?”

“I’ll tell you when I get there. Then, you can tell me if everything’s all right. How’s that?”

I learned two lessons that day. I never forgot either of them. When a woman is on the verge of tears, never ask her if she is all right. Even to a gnat, the answer is too obvious. What is the other one? Just because you think no one is watching you, doesn’t mean no one cares what you are doing. I fact, someone probably cares too much—and is watching every move you make.

For example, I believe someone noticed my return to the hospital. Seconds after I spoke to Mary, I heard the whine of sirens. Through the long windows, flashing red and blue lights cast sordid shadows on the green plaster walls. I answered a STAT page, and saw Mary Potts, pushing her way through the crowd to the Emergency Room entrance.

“Lemme by, hear?” Mary said. “Lemme by, I said! Dr. Spezia! You in there?”

“It’s me, all right. After the day you had today, I can’t believe you came back.”

“Well, I’m tired, I’m hungry, and I’m a little bit dizzy too. But Mays needs me. So, I’m here.”

I leaned over Maypo’s limp body. He appeared to be unconscious. His eyes were closed, and he wasn’t moving—not at all. Mary rushed into the room. I suppose she decided that if Maypo was going to survive, somebody needed to move a lot faster.

“What are you doing here?” she said. “I thought you was off tonight.”

“They called the illustrious Dr. Freeman, but he never answered the page.”

I turned, and watched Mary tossed her coat on a nearby gurney.
All the while, her thick fingers gripped her purse.

“Mary, you want to put your purse away and give me a hand?”

“I’ll put my purse away, sure enough. But, what’s in it stays with me.”

“I am not here to debate gun rights. Is that what you intend to do?”

“No. I just want to get something straight. Maypo’s like my brother. I intend to take care of him.” Mary threw the purse on top of her coat and jammed a .38 revolver into the pocket of her uniform skirt. “Don’t be looking at me. Look at him. He needs you more than I do.”

I pressed a stethoscope against Maypo’s chest and listened. “Can you hear me, sir?” I said. “It’s Dr. Spezia.”

Mary nudged me. When I faced her, she shook her head. “You don’t talk to him like that. Get out the way.” She focused on the silent man on the gurney in front of her. “Maypo! Mays! Lissen up, baby. It’s Mary.” He groaned, and his massive body shifted, ever so slightly. “Mays,” Mary said, “how’d this happen? Who shot you, Mays?” Maypo’s swollen eye opened to a narrow slit. He seemed as if he was nodding at the entry doors to the Emergency Room. “Whut is it, baby?” Mary said. “Mays! Whut you see?”

Muffled voices and heavy footsteps echoed in the hall. Both grew closer and louder before the entry doors slapped the plaster walls. Suddenly, the doors opened wide. Vile profanity boomed into the Emergency Room and surrounding areas.

“Get down, motherfuckers! Where’s that fucker, Maypo? I’m gonna fucking shoot ya’ll!”

The crack of a 9 mm bullet pierced the mayhem. Mary screamed and lunged on the terrazzo floor. Her .38 revolver slid across the slick surface. I snatched it. Huddled beneath Maypo’s gurney, Mary’s eyes looked wide and fearful. A stray bullet grazed her knee, and she moaned in agony. The shooter’s spent casings dropped around me. My mouth felt parched, like it was stuffed with pieces of cotton.

I felt my hand raise. Just like Uncle Tony taught me all those years ago, I aimed for the shooter’s heart, and then, his head. The shooting ceased. The room sounded like a tomb. My trembling hand gripped the .38 revolver, now three bullets lighter. I hoped that Mary was still alive.

“Call a code!” I said.

In the following moments, years of training calmed the frenzied chaos. I can’t explain the synergy, but somehow, Maypo ended up in the ICU. While he took short, shallow breaths, Mary talked to him and held his hand. Though his body was riddled with bullets, Mary clung to the crazy hope that Maypo might survive. Fortunately for Maypo, the shooter seemed to favor quantity over precision.

I entered the narrow space, complete with an IV pole and humming machines. I think my compassion surprised Mary. In fact, I don’t know what surprised her more: my empathy or my marksmanship.

“How’s he doing?” I said.

Mary glanced at me. “See for yourself.” A corner of her mouth creased in a smile. “You know something? For a white guy, you’re a pretty good shot.”

“I’m not proud of that, Mary. The police want to talk to me, and I’m sure I’ll end up in the Dean’s office over this. I just hope I don’t get thrown out of medical school.”

“You got to be kiddin’ me! Over a man like Easter?”

“Who?”

“Tyrell Easter. That’s who you done shot. He just got out of the damn jail. Made his way to find Maypo and get his evens.”

“Get even? Over what? What did Maypo do to him?”

“Well,” Mary said, “You might as well know all of it. Maypo, see he ain’t no saint hisself. Lemme tell you, while Tyrell was locked up doing time, Maypo was living it up with Tyrell’s woman, cruising ‘round town with Shontay Biggs in Tyrell’s Cadillac. Word on that gets around and fast, hear? Maypo knew better.” She shook her head. “He shorely did.”

“I don’t understand,” I said.

“Okay, Doctor. I got to spell it out for you. Tyrell Easter and Maypo were a coupla homeboys, you know, before all of this mess. One day, Tyrell decides they gonna rob that Seven A‘Leven over on Hampton. Maypo was supposed to wait for him, you know—drive the getaway car.”

“What happened?”

“When the alarm in the store went off, Maypo did, too. Tyrell got arrested. Din’t even score five bills. He coulda told all he knew—brought Maypo down with him. But Easter, he didn’t do that. He did his time his way, on his own time. But when he heard Mays be messing around with his woman and his Cad’lac, he say when he get out, first thing on his list, he gonna kill Maypo. ‘An shore enough, that is ‘xactly what he did—or at least, he tried to do.”