As for Neil’s trying the East Coast, the thought had occurred to him, but he fought against it. As much as she liked New York, he liked L.A., especially with his spiritual relationship with surfing. He knew she’d get the match she wanted. She was too good a student and had done particularly well during the fourth-year surgery rotation she’d completed on their return from India.
Cupping his hand over his mouth, he silently and definitely enunciated, “Go to my office.”
Jennifer indicated she’d gotten the message. Leaving the cubicle, she walked back to his office. She sat down in his side chair and lifted the envelope up to the overhead light to see if she could make out what the note said. She knew it was like cheating herself, but she couldn’t help it.
Neil showed up in just a few minutes. “Well, did you get Columbia?” he asked.
“I haven’t opened it yet. I’m superstitious. I wanted to do it in your presence.”
“Silly woman! You’re going to get what you want.”
“I wish I were as confident as you are.”
“Well, open it!”
Taking a deep breath, Jennifer ravished the envelope, rudely yanked out the note, opened it, and then cheered. She threw the note into the air and let it waft down to the floor.
“See!” Neil said. “Columbia is lucky to have you.” He bent down and picked up the note, glancing at it in the process. He did a double take, shocked. It said “UCLA Medical Center Department of Surgery.”
Neil switched from confusedly regarding the note to looking into Jennifer’s eyes. “What is this?” he sputtered.
“Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you. I changed my order of preference. I realized I didn’t want to leave now that we’re just getting to know each other, but don’t worry, there’s no pressure.”
Neil reached out, grabbed Jennifer in a bear hug, and by rocking back lifted her off the ground. “I’m thrilled,” he said. “And you know what? You’re never going to regret it.”
August 5, 2008
Wednesday, 6:20 p.m.
Los Angeles, USA
Jennifer Hernandez was so excited she had trouble standing in one place. She was pacing outside customs in the arrival area of Los Angeles International Airport. In just a few minutes she’d witness the culmination of months of effort on her part, along with the aid of a number of other people.
“It’s hard to imagine that Veena Chandra is about to walk out that door,” Neil McCulgan commented. He’d driven Jennifer to the airport.
“There had been a number of times when I was convinced it wasn’t going to happen,” Jennifer agreed. Almost from the day Jennifer and Neil had returned from India, Jennifer had mounted a crusade to convince UCLA to grant Veena a medical-school scholarship, and the U.S. government to grant a student visa. It was not easy, especially since both institutions initially refused even to consider her application.
At first the biggest hurdle had been Veena’s involvement in the Nurses International criminal trial, but that had been ultimately resolved when Veena and the other nurses had been granted immunity by turning state’s evidence and testifying against Cal Morgan, Durell Williams, Santana Ramos, and Petra Danderoff.
Next had been the difficulty in arranging for Veena to take the MCAT exam. As it turned out, the effort was well worthwhile, since Veena aced the tests. Her near-perfect score significantly aided her own cause, and once the university began to look favorably on her application, the government was willing to change its tune.
And last but not least had been the effort to raise enough money for airfare and other expenses. Incredibly enough, a significant portion of all this effort had to be accomplished while Jennifer had been immersed in her surgical residency.
“There she is!” Neil called out excitedly, pointing to where Veena had emerged. She was carrying two small cloth bags with all her worldly possessions. She was dressed in ill-fitting jeans and a simple cotton shirt. Regardless, she looked radiant.
Jennifer waved wildly to catch Veena’s attention. Veena waved back and started in their direction. As she approached with a broad smile, Jennifer tried to imagine what was going on in her mind. She was finally totally free of her selfish, repulsive, and licentious father, facing the fabulous opportunity to study medicine, which her father had tried to deny her, yet at the same time she was accepting life in a totally different, nonsupportive culture and giving up everything she’d known since she was an infant.
Although there was the slightest similarity to Jennifer’s experience leaving New York City and moving to the West Coast, which at the time seemed to her like another culture, if not another country, Veena’s experience was going to be a quantum leap more challenging. Veena was moving from a strong group culture to one based mostly on the individual. Jennifer hadn’t had to struggle with that and probably wouldn’t be able to help. Where she knew she could help was in relation to their similarly horrifying histories of abuse. Jennifer knew all too well the kind of handicaps that such an experience engendered, and she hoped she might be able to teach Veena some of the coping strategies she had learned by trial and error.
Jennifer hoped Veena would be receptive to her help. After all, Veena had taught Jennifer some important life-altering lessons, and she wanted to return the favor. Although at very great cost, Veena had taught Jennifer about redemption and forgiveness in ways she would never have learned otherwise.
Acknowledgments
I would like to acknowledge several Indian doctors who were exceptionally hospitable to me on my visit to India, particularly Dr. Gagan Gautam, who took an entire day out of his busy schedule to show me both private and public Indian hospitals. There was also Dr. Ajit Saxena, who not only showed me his private hospital but also invited me into his home to meet his family and enjoy a wonderful, home-cooked Indian dinner. And finally there was Dr. Sudhaku Krishnamurth, who introduced me to the two previously named individuals.
At the same time as acknowledging these physicians I would like to absolve them of any responsibility for the story line, descriptions, or slight exaggerations in Foreign Body, for which I take full responsibility. For example, upon reading the manuscript, Dr. Gautam commented, “I haven’t seen people riding on the roof of a bus in Delhi. Hanging from them, yes... but not on the roof.” After some thought I realized he was correct. When I saw the phenomenon, it was indeed outside the city limits.
Finally, I would like to acknowledge the country of India itself. During my visit I found it to be an overwhelmingly fascinating mixture of contrasts: rich yet poor, serenely beautiful but insidious, modern yet medieval. It is a country living in three centuries all at once, with a fascinating history I knew little about, and populated by creative, intelligent, beautiful, and hospitable people. In short, it is a country I can’t wait to revisit.