* * *
Hannah sat in the doctor’s office waiting patiently. When the doctor walked in, he had Hannah’s file in his hand and what Hannah believed was a genuine smile on his face.
“Good news?” she asked.
“Everything looks great,” he said and then showed Hannah several images that he took from her file and made an effort to explain them in terms Hannah could understand.
“I see,” Hannah said. The doctor looked up at her. His face indicated that he knew she hadn’t understood anything beyond, “Everything looks great.”
“It must be hard as a doctor to be always fighting a losing battle,” Hannah stated.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean even if you can cure this cancer I’m going to die. You’re fighting against death, but the best you can hope to do is put it off. And what if you succeed and prolong my life for a long time. I’m going to be like my husband’s, my ex-husband’s, senile dying father, rotting away in a nursing home.”
“We don’t just fight against death,” the doctor explained. “A lot of medicine is focused on improving the quality of life. We try to eliminate suffering so that people can enjoy life.”
“That’s what life comes down to isn’t it? I’ve just got to enjoy myself.” Hannah could see that the doctor didn’t feel comfortable talking about personal matters and added, “Don’t worry about answering that. I’m just thinking out loud.”
* * *
Sara woke Julia up in the afternoon. I saved you some lunch,” she said and pointed to the plate of tamales on the desk. “We’ve got an orientation meeting in twenty minutes,” Sara explained while Julia sat down at the desk to eat. Julia finished her late lunch in time to sit in on the meeting where the cheery faced woman explained why they couldn’t drink the water or flush the toilet paper. She also talked about the families they would be building houses for and a whole host of other topics that seemed far less relevant.
By the time she’d finished, the young girl who had been holding the broom and an elderly woman who could have been her mother were ready to serve a snack. The group filed into a large dining room where two long tables had been prepared for them. Julia sat down next to Sara and waited silently for her food to come while the rest of the group made jokes and carried on. After eating, the youth dispersed into small groups. Some of them played cards, and others sat around and talked.
Julia went outside to sit in the courtyard by herself. She heard the young girl’s voice singing in Spanish as she swept the inside of what Julia assumed was the medical clinic. She couldn’t understand a single word the girl sang, but the melody echoed from the open door, soft and beautiful. Julia felt that each note was calling out to her. She sat on a bench and closed her eyes letting each syllable wash over her. She might have let the young girl sing her to sleep if a loud knocking at the gate hadn’t startled her. She opened her eyes and saw the same woman who had asked for medicine that morning.
“Medicina, medicina,” the woman called out. Julia walked to the gate.
“Medicine?” she asked, trying to make sure that she had heard correctly.
The woman said something else.
“I don’t speak Spanish. No Español,” Julia said apologetically. The woman held out an empty bottle, which Julia took from her.
“It’s only cough syrup,” she thought as she examined the label.
“Medicina para mi bebé,” the woman said slowly.
“I’m sorry I don’t really understand. Bebé?”
“Mi bebé, mi bebé,” the woman repeated pointing to the empty bottle Julia held in her hand.
“Your baby?” Julia asked.
“Por favor. Mi bebé,” the woman pleaded.
“Wait here,” Julia said. She took the empty bottle into the open door of the clinic and followed the sound of the young girl’s voice until she found her sweeping in one of the back rooms.
“Medicina?” Julia asked. The young girl stopped singing and turned around. Julia held up the empty bottle. The girl didn’t say anything, as if experience had taught her that trying to communicate with words would only be a waste of breath. She took the bottle from Julia and disappeared down the hallway. A minute later she reappeared with a full bottle and handed the cough syrup to Julia. Julia noticed that the expiration date on the bottle had passed two months ago, but took the bottle out to the woman who was still waiting patiently outside the gate. Julia handed her the bottle, and as the woman accepted she took Julia’s hand and shook it vigorously.
“Gracias, gracias,” she repeated.
“You’re welcome,” Julia responded. When she turned around she saw the cheery faced woman walking into the courtyard.
“I was only trying to help,” Julia began to explain.
“I know,” the woman said. She didn’t sound upset in the least. “You just have to understand that we take care of hundreds of people with this clinic, and if we started helping people whenever they showed up we’d never get a moment’s peace. That’s why we have them come back on days when the clinic is opened. You understand don’t you?”
Julia couldn’t tell if the woman’s smile was genuine. “Yeah, I understand,” Julia muttered.
“You’ve got a long day tomorrow and should get some rest,” the woman suggested, and then disappeared inside another building. Julia sat back down in the courtyard and closed her eyes again. She could barely make out the young girl’s voice singing those soft and beautiful words that she so desperately wanted to be able to understand.
* * *
When Hannah heard the doorbell she didn’t want to answer it. If not for the social law that would condemn her for being unforgivably rude, she might have remained on the couch while her date stood outside and rang the doorbell two or three more times before giving up and going home.
“So much pressure. That’s all it is. I’m only giving into social pressure in doing this,” Hannah thought as she walked across the living room. “That’s the only reason I’m going through with this. Maybe because I’ve gotten dressed and put on makeup, but not because I’m lonely, and not because I need a relationship to fill the holes in my life.”
Hannah opened the door and realized that the voice she’d talked to the night before belonged to a handsome man in his mid-fifties. Her date wore dark slacks and a blue shirt that accented the grey hairs that had appeared in the midst of his dark brown head of hair.
“You must be Hannah,” he said.
“Yes,” Hannah answered, “but I haven’t caught your name.” At first Hannah felt embarrassed having to ask for his name, but she told herself that he should be the one to feel embarrassed since he’d been the one who hadn’t introduced himself.
“I’m sorry. I guess I’m just a little nervous. My name’s Andy. Well, Andrew, but most people call me Andy.” Andy didn’t look nervous to Hannah. He stood up straight, flashed a charming smile and offered her his arm. Hannah closed and locked the door and slipped her hand into his arm and let him walk her to his car, where he opened the door for her. She sat down, and while she waited for him to walk around the car and open his door, she had just enough time to wonder if Peter had ever treated her like that.
When they got to the restaurant Hannah noticed that Andy had made reservations. The hostess directed them to their table, and Hannah let Andy pull out a chair for her.
“Such a small gesture,” Hannah thought as she thanked him and sat down. “I shouldn’t be impressed. It’s such a little thing.” She found herself impressed with him nonetheless.
* * *
Thomas sat on the bed and waited for Jessica to come out of the bathroom.
“What do you think?” she asked as she walked into the room. She turned around in a circle so Thomas could see the new swimsuit. Before he could respond to her question though, Clint and Robert burst into the room.
“You guys ready yet? Amy and Mary are waiting in the lobby,” Robert said.
We’re coming just give us a
minute,” Jessica ordered.
“We’re all waiting in the lobby whenever you guys are ready,” Robert said as he and Clint left the room.
“Well?” Jessica asked when they were gone.
“Well what?” Thomas asked.
“Well, what do you think?”
“Oh, the swimsuit. It looks good,” Thomas said.
“That’s all?”
“I mean you look really pretty,” Thomas said, trying again.
“Forget it. Let’s go,” Jessica said and they walked out of the room.
“You know,” Jessica began while they waited on the elevator, “it would mean a lot if you’d give a girl a genuine compliment from time to time. Something like that can really turn someone’s day around.”
“I’m sorry. Are you having a bad day?” Thomas asked.
“No. Not really. I just wanted to let you know.”
“I’ll try to remember that. Wait a minute; I forgot to get a towel. Hold the elevator. I’ll be right back.
* * *
Peter, having managed to stay sober enough to drive, transported himself across the city and again pulled into the parking lot across from the town house where Hannah was staying. He sat in his car and waited. He didn’t have anything else to do. He told himself that he wasn’t waiting on Hannah to come out, that he hadn’t pulled into the parking lot because of loneliness or the desire to see her face and that this would be the last time.
“Boredom. I’m just bored,” he told himself as he waited.
* * *
Andy proved to be quiet and reserved. He let Hannah guide the conversation and spent most of the evening listening. Hannah talked about moving in with Abigail, her work, and then about her kids and her marriage to Peter. She hadn’t intended to mention the latter two topics, but as the evening wore on, and the merlot loosened her inhibitions, she found herself speaking openly about both. Andy didn’t seem to mind, in fact he seemed more interested in what she said about her failed marriage than anything else she’d mentioned, and asked several questions.
“I had a lot of the same problems when I was married,” he explained afterwards.
Hannah wondered if that had been the sole reason why Abigail had set them up. She couldn’t help thinking that she would never be fit to date anyone who hadn’t been married at some point. She changed the subject and started to talk about her visit with the doctor and the conversation they had had that morning. Andy didn’t ask why she’d gone to the doctor, and Hannah was glad, not that her medical condition was any more intimate than the other details she’d shared, but because she hadn’t told anyone outside of the doctor’s office. Even Abigail had only gotten a vague account that centered mostly on numbers and percentiles.
She knew that if she could tell just one person she could get over the mental block that had formed around that part of her life. She thought that she could tell Andy and that it would be easier because she hardly knew him. But she knew that if she told him it would make her condition real, and she’d never be able to confine that reality to the white doctor’s office again. She decided to wait and hope that the 3% would dwindle down to zero, and then she could go on with her life as if the condition had never developed.
Then she realized that Andy had continued talking while her mind wandered.
“I agree that science will probably never be able to completely do away with death, but you have to admit that it has almost completely done away with suffering,” Andy said.
“Painkillers really are something else these days,” Hannah admitted passively, no longer caring about the subject.
“Not just pain killers. Those are pretty basic. I’m really impressed with all the new antidepressants. The fact that they’ve been able to isolate the functions of various chemicals in the brain and invent medicines to block or imitate them is really amazing.”
“I hadn’t thought about that,” Hannah admitted. “We can talk about something else if you want. I didn’t mean to bother you with so many personal details. To be honest I haven’t been feeling like myself lately.”
“I understand exactly what you’re talking about,” Andy said.
“I guess you’ve been through a lot of this yourself.”
“This might sound out of place. I mean, when someone suggested it to me I took it the wrong way at first, but, well, I guess I’ll just say it. Have you thought about counseling? Not that I think you need counseling, but it really helped me.”
“It’s not a bad idea,” Hannah said. “I guess I just never got past the stigma of professional help.”
“If you decide to give it a try I’ve got the number of the woman I went to.” Andy pulled out a business card from his wallet and handed it to Hannah.
“Thanks,” she said. “Sometimes the little things make all the difference you know.”
When they’d finished dinner, Andy took care of the check and offered to take Hannah back to Abigail’s apartment. “Unless you’d rather go to my place,” he added nervously.
“I’ve had a good time. I really have,” Hannah said. “But I’m not ready for a relationship right now.”
“You know that I wasn’t thinking of a one night stand,” Andy said.
“I know,” Hannah said. “If he’d been suggesting a one night stand I might have said yes,” she thought as she let him open the restaurant door.
* * *
When Thomas and Jessica finally got down to the beach the other couples went their separate ways, and it took Thomas all of ten minutes to realize that spring break in Florida looked more glamorous on television than in real life. The water was colder than he thought it would be, and the sand burned the bottom of his feet when he took off his flip-flops.
“What do you want to do?” Thomas asked.
“I figured I’d get a little sun,” Jessica said and spread her towel out on the sand. Thomas spread his towel out next to hers and sat down on it as Jessica lay down on her stomach and closed her eyes. Thomas looked around as some people played volleyball and others threw a frisbee back and forth. Sunbathers littered the beach, and he even found a few people who, like himself, looked like they were either bored or simply content with people watching. Time passed.
“You can go do something you know,” Jessica said after several minutes had gone by.
“Like what?” Thomas asked.
“I don’t know, something. I’m just saying that you don’t have sit to here and wait on me if you don’t want to.”
“I don’t mind sitting here waiting,” Thomas answered.
“I didn’t think you’d mind.” Jessica’s tone became hostile.
“What do you mean?”
“You could be playing games or swimming in the ocean or doing something, anything, but you’re just sitting there.”
“That’s what you’re doing too,” Thomas said. He didn’t try to hide his confusion or frustration.
“I’m sunbathing, enjoying a moment of peace. You’re looking around with anxiety because you don’t know what to do, which makes it really hard for me to enjoy my moment of peace.”
“I just thought,” Thomas began, but didn’t know what else to say. Jessica waited for him to finish his sentence, but he never did.
“You just thought,” she said snidely. “Big surprise, because that’s all you do—think. Why don’t you try doing something for a change? Something spontaneous or at least go think somewhere else so I can lay here in peace.”
“I don’t understand,” Thomas said.
“I didn’t think you would,” Jessica fired back. “But I’m sure you’ll be able to figure out the philosophy behind it if you really think hard.”
* * *
Peter didn’t pay much attention to the sedan that pulled into a parking space across from him. He watched as a middle aged man got out of the driver’s side and walked around to open the passenger’s door. He almost didn’t recognize Hannah when she stepped out of the car. She’d curled her hair and put on different makeup.
Peter wanted to get out of his car and cause a scene. If only he’d had a little bit more to drink
“Not that I need something to drink before I can cause a scene,” he told himself. Nevertheless, he knew that a few drinks would go a long way to helping him to justify his actions the next morning. While he tried to decide what he wanted to do, the middle aged man walked his ex-wife to her door and leaned forward to kiss her. From Peter’s angle it looked like a peck on the cheek, but he couldn’t be sure.
Peter opened the door with the intention of getting out of the car and confronting the middle aged man, but he closed it again without moving from his seat. He wanted to believe that he’d thought better of causing a scene, but deep down he knew that the pattern of indecision that had worked its way into his character had once again paralyzed him.
“Either way,” he thought, “not getting out of the car was the right decision.
Chapter 11
“Surely you’ve realized by now that everything comes down to faith,” the stranger said casually. “The only question left for you to decide is what you’re going to put your faith in.”
“Surely you’ve realized that I’m not talking about faith, but about an idea,” Thomas retorted. “I’m not interested in anything but the theory.”
“I just thought that since everyone else in your family is trying to find something to put their faith in that you might be interested as well.”
“Nobody in my family has faith in anything. Julia’s the only one even remotely interested in religion, and when push comes to shove she still can’t stomach it,” Thomas objected.
“Your father’s found faith. He worships a god that will never disappoint him but will never satisfy him either. It’s a crude god I admit, but one with quite a following. Make no mistake; your father has faith. And then there’s your mother who doesn’t believe yet, but since she hasn’t found anything else to believe in, she’ll believe soon simply because she can’t go on without putting her faith in something.”
“You’re not making any sense,” Thomas said. “But nothing you say ever makes sense.”
“Then let me explain it for you. You can always tell what a person believes in by what they worship. For your father it’s oblivion, and revelry, and forgetfulness in the morning. Like I said, the crudest of gods, and he leaves a terrible hangover. Your mother, being more sophisticated, worships a more sophisticated god and is learning to put her faith in cold calculating reason. She wants to believe in the tangible world to the exclusion of everything else, and she will very soon. Science, the son of reason has been promising that it can fix all of her problems; all she needs is a little proof, and she’ll give herself over to it completely.”