The Unforgiving Minute (12 page)

BOOK: The Unforgiving Minute
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herbal tea. I hungrily wolfed down the contents of the tray in

about a minute and a half. As if by magic, one of the robotic

attendants appeared instantly and took my tray and refuse. There

was nothing to read in the room and I expected to be quickly

ushered into the office. I don’t know if it was a psychological

ploy to test my patience, but I sat waiting for at least a half

hour. By the time I was admitted to his office, I was hungry and

irritable and probably sulking petulantly.

The good doctor looked just about as I expected him to.

He was small and very thin with sparse gray hair combed flat to

his scalp and sported the thinnest moustache imaginable, which

was perfectly trimmed. He wore a white medical coat over a shirt

which I’d swear had a celluloid collar circa 1920 and a plain

black tie, which was extremely thin. He wore round, rimless

glasses which seemed too small even for his small face. He

didn’t shake my hand or say hello instantly, but just sat there

looking me over. After about a minute of awkward silence during

which I was wondering whether I was supposed to initiate the

conversation, he finally broke into a professional smile and

spoke with a decidedly Viennese accent.

“Ah, Mr. Boyd, we are so happy to have you with us.

Tomorrow you will start your program. Later today one of our

directors will consult with you about your examination and you

will receive a printout of your regimen. You are here with me to

see whether your mind as well as your body needs conditioning.”

He leaned forward and, with an authoritative Teutonic air,

glared at me with a look that said he meant business and spoke.

“You are expected to tell me everything. You do not lie

to your lawyer or your accountant … yes? And … you will not

lie to me. I want you to tell me all about Herr Robert Boyd and

I want the truth … even if it embarrasses you or makes you feel

less manly. Is this understood?”

I wanted to holler, “Jawohl mein Kapitan,” but Dr. Bierbauer

didn’t look like he had much of a sense of humor, so I just

meekly assented to his demand.

“Before we start, Mr. Boyd, how did you hear of my

establishment?”

“I am a very dear friend of Dr. Dinsmore, a physical

therapist who lives in London. It seems she went to school with

Dr. Schenley of your staff.”

He looked at me as if I were crazy.

“There is no Dr. Schenley here; there has never been a Dr.

Schenley here. Are you sure?”

“I don’t understand. I’m very sure that she said Dr.

Schenley; I wrote it down. She’s the head of your physical

therapy department.”

He began to laugh and I thought his face was going to

crack.

“Oh, you mean Dr. Chen. Why didn’t you say so? Ach, now

I understand. Her name is Chen Lei, not Schenley.” He broke

into a diabolical cackle that translated into, “You dumb American

bastard, can’t you even comprehend simple Chinese?”

The cackling stopped abruptly and he put on his game face

again.

“So … briefly … tell me about Robert Boyd.”

He leaned on his elbows and intertwined his fingers and

looked straight into my eyes waiting to hang on every word.

I decided to begin with my present journey and then delve

into the past if he wished. I started with the sale of the

business and my impulsive departure to Europe. His facial

expression never changed in all the time I was narrating the

story. Occasionally a humming sound or a grunt would emanate

from his mouth. Finally, I reached the present and stopped

speaking.

When he looked at me and said, “Very interesting,” with

that Viennese accent, I burst out laughing and he looked at me

with utter derision before addressing himself to my story.

“It seems to me, Mr. Boyd, that you are a very confused

man. You seem to have everything you ever wanted and yet you are

mired in discontent. Unfortunately, unless you stayed here for a

year, it would be impossible for me to get to the root of your

problem. So … what I think we should do is pay attention to

your outer self, thereby calming your inner self. We have found

that exercise and the results of it help to control neuroses.

First of all, you will gain self-esteem from the results I know

we can give you here. Secondly, you are removed totally from

alcohol here. I know that you think that drinking calms you but

alcohol is a depressant and is only adding to your problems. As

for your womanizing, when you see the other guests you will know

that you are also far removed from that.”

He chuckled vigorously after his last sentence and I could

imagine what my fellow guests must be like.

“I do not believe in drugs of any kind to control mental

problems, so if you have brought any to this establishment and

you really want to be helped, do not take tranquilizers or

sleeping pills. Do not even take an aspirin. We want your body

totally clean and healthy. You are also free to consult with me

at any time. Just call my secretary for an appointment and I

will always see you on the day you call. Again, Mr. Boyd, enjoy

your stay with us. Your printout will tell you how many weeks we

recommend.” He stood up and shook my hand and led me to the

door.

“Your printout should be ready for you just about now.

You will please report to the administration building and see

Fraulein Weber.”

I walked out into the bright Alpine sunlight. The

temperature was about fifty-five and the sun shone warmly through

the pines. The smell was clean and exhilarating and I was

starting to feel good already, although I was more than a little

hungry. I stopped at the water locker and, as instructed

,imbibed liberally of the cool mountain water. I stopped at my

room to get my map of the complex and found my way to the

administration building.

Fraulein Weber was yet another of the efficient, robotic

staff. She handed me a folder and outlined my examination

results and prescribed program.

“Your examination was quite good for a man your age. Your

heart is in wonderful shape and you scored very high on the

stress test. Your lungs are clean and your blood pressure is

excellent. Your blood sugar is normal and your cholesterol is on

the high side of normal so we’d like to improve that. Your body

fat content is unsatisfactory and I know we can improve that. I

am recommending a two-week stay with us commencing tomorrow.

Your personal trainer is Hans Wertmuller. You will meet him at

your room directly after breakfast tomorrow. He will supervise

your regimen and will be with you approximately fifty percent of

the time. Breakfast is at seven-thirty in the main dining room.

This evening at seven o’clock you will have your first meal with

us. Your menu has been prepared by computer and you will be

served meals which have been customized especially for you.

Sweat suits, shorts, and bathing apparel will be sent to your

room. You will be given a week’s supply which you will deposit

in the laundry hamper in your room when they are soiled. I would

suggest you spend the rest of today exploring the facilities. I

would also recommend a brisk walk through the woods. Any

questions?”

I smiled graciously and said, “I think you have covered it

very well, Fraulein. I wonder, though, if you could direct me to

Dr. Chen’s office. We have a mutual friend and I would like to

meet her.”

She gave me the directions and, with no trace of a smile,

admonished me. “Dr. Chen is very busy. Many of our guests come

here with physical problems and Dr. Chen is one of the finest

physical therapists on the continent. Our staff is not

encouraged to socialize with the guests, but if you must say

hello, do it quickly and have a nice afternoon.”

I wasn’t sure yet whether this was a spa or a minimum—

security prison. I would have appreciated a smile from one of

these robots just to assure me that this really was a luxury

hotel.

I walked into yet another antiseptic white building which

was the Physical Therapy building. All of the buildings were

marked by number because of the many different languages spoken

by the guests. There was a receptionist at a desk who looked

like she was starched from head to toe. She glared at me as I

entered. I politely and pleasantly asked for Dr. Chen.

“Dr. Chen is available by appointment,” she said curtly.

“Please, you don’t understand. Would you please tell her

that Robert Boyd, Christine Dinsmore’s friend, just wants to say

hello. I promise I won’t take but a few minutes of her time.”

“You will wait, please,” Miss Starch said as she left the

room with an air of great annoyance.

A few minutes later she returned and requested that I sit

down and wait until Dr. Chen had a few minutes to see me.

Actually, it wasn’t really a request. It was more like a

command.

I sat there for a long time, again in a position where I

was cooling my heels waiting for someone, with nothing to do but

look at Miss Starch, who, like most of the staff here, looked

like an antiseptic robot. I couldn’t wait to meet Dr. Chen, whom

I was sure was going to be an Oriental robot.

About fifteen minutes later, the door to the inner

building opened and I almost fell over when I stood to greet her.

She was breathtaking! She was tall for an Oriental, I’d say

about five feet five, and her legs were long and shapely. Her

face radiated a beauty that lit the room. She wore her hair

short and tight to the sides of her head. Her face was perfectly

symmetrical and her skin was perfect. The first phrase that ran

through my head when I saw her was “China doll.” I was so taken

aback by her presence that I felt disoriented. She approached me

with a warm smile.

“Robert, I feel as if I already know you. Christine has

spoken of you often.” She had a distinctly British accent, which

surprised me. With a name like Chen Lei, I expected broken

English at best.

I walked or stumbled across the room, I don’t really

remember which. I knew the feeling. I was totally captivated by

this magnificent woman.

“Dr. Chen … I … er … “

“Please, call me Lee, all my friends do.”

“Well, Lee, I … uh … I’m glad to meet you.”

“Come in, please. I’ll show you around.”

She walked me around her complex and showed me various

examination rooms and physical therapy equipment. There were

weights, traction machines, and various other machines for

exercising and strengthening the various muscles and tendons of

the body. There were also whirlpool baths and sonic and heat

therapy units. She spoke as she walked and explained the

function of each unit as we passed it. I didn’t hear a thing.

I just looked at her in awe. I couldn’t remember when a

woman last affected me this way. I knew her for five minutes and

I was totally shut down. I remember that I felt small and

unworthy in her presence and did not feel the confidence I

usually felt in the presence of women. My mouth was dry and my

heart was racing at about twice its normal cadence. I followed

her around like a sick puppy and, when we came to the exit, was

escorted outside the building. She turned to me and shook my

hand. She had long delicate fingers and their very touch almost

caused me to faint. I figured since she was in physical therapy

that I wouldn’t see her again unless I had an injury. I was

daydreaming about faking one when she spoke again.

“It’s been lovely meeting you. I would really like to

speak to you further. It’s very lonely for me here and there is

rarely anyone interesting to speak to. We’re really not allowed

to socialize with the guests but, truthfully, I’m going a little

crazy here. Would you consider me coming to your cottage about

five? We could sit on your porch and have cocktails of Dr.

Bierbauer’s magic water and chat it up a bit.”

Would I consider it? Was she kidding? I would kill for

the opportunity! I tried to answer in my suavest, calmest

manner.

“Yes, I would enjoy that very much. I must say that since

I’ve come here, I’ve felt a little lonely myself.”

She flashed that warm smile and I could see that she had

perfect white teeth. We said our goodbyes and I all but floated

down the path. I stopped at the main building and brought two

bottles of water back to my cottage. I placed them, unopened, on

the table on my porch, added two glasses and waited the longest

two hours of my life. I tried to read but none of the words

penetrated my brain. I finally decided to take that brisk walk

in the woods. I thought of her constantly. I was nervous as a

schoolboy. I totally forgot my vow to stop thinking of women.

In fact, if alcohol were available, I’m sure I would have

forgotten that vow too. I didn’t care, though. I felt alive

again. It was like someone had injected an invigorating drug

into my veins.

When I returned to the cottage, I showered and changed

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