“Medical professionals don’t want patients to get
addicted,” Mr. Mummy said, angling himself into Judith’s visitor’s chair. “You know what kind of problems that can cause.”
“Of course,” Renie responded, eyeing the IV bag
with displeasure. “But isn’t pain medication supposed
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to relieve pain? And so these medical morons really
believe that middle-aged women such as my cousin
and me are going to succumb to a sudden addiction?
That’s ridiculous. And it’s not good medicine.”
“Dear me,” said Mr. Mummy, pushing his glasses
farther up on his nose. “You’re quite upset, Mrs. Jones.
Have you expressed your feelings to your doctor?”
“I haven’t seen Dr. Ming since he came by this
morning, before I started to hurt this much,” Renie
said, becoming crabbier by the minute. “I think I’ll
start screaming soon if this pain doesn’t ease up. How
about you, coz?”
“Not so hot,” Judith replied, lifting her head to look
at their visitor. “How do you feel, Mr. Mummy? Is pain
a problem for you?”
“Ah . . . Not too much,” he said, looking down at his
cast. “It wasn’t a terribly bad break.”
“I thought it was fractured in several places,” Renie
said.
“Well . . . yes, it was,” Mr. Mummy agreed, giving
the cousins a diffident smile. “But they weren’t severe
fractures. Tell me, did you speak with Mr. Randall’s
children this morning?”
Judith noted the swift change of subject, but let it
go. “Yes, Nancy and Bob Jr. stopped by. Have you met
them?”
“Not exactly,” Mr. Mummy answered. “I’d like to, to
convey my condolences. Their mother seems a trifle . . . ineffective. I hope the young people are more
able to cope.”
“Dubious,” said Renie.
Mr. Mummy nodded slowly. “Yes. I suppose they’re
like the children of many successful parents—spoiled,
lacking incentive or ambition of their own.”
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191
“Something like that,” said Renie. “Okay, I’m going
to scream now.”
She did, loud, piercing shrieks that alarmed Mr.
Mummy and annoyed Judith. At the same time, Renie
banged the buzzer against the bed to make the light
outside in the hall flash on and off.
“Dear me,” said Mr. Mummy, leaning closer to Judith so he could be heard, “is she really in that much
pain?”
“Maybe,” Judith allowed. “I know I feel pretty rotten. It’s impossible to get comfortable.”
Heather arrived looking disconcerted. Jan Van
Boeck was right behind her, frowning deeply.
“What’s this?” he demanded, his bass voice bouncing off the walls.
Renie stopped screaming. “It’s suffering. Recognize
it?”
Dr. Van Boeck’s face reddened with anger. “You’re
exaggerating. No one in real pain could make such a
noise.”
“Wrong.” Renie glared at the chief of staff. “I can.
I’ll do it again, to prove the point.” She let out a mighty
yelp.
“Close that door!” Dr. Van Boeck commanded
Heather. “See here, Mrs. . . .” He faltered, and Renie
stopped yelling.
“Jones, Serena Jones,” Renie retorted. “And don’t
you forget it, buster.”
Judith thought Dr. Van Boeck looked as if he might
explode. It was all she could do to not cower under the
blankets and pretend she’d never seen Renie before in
her life. Instead, she summoned up her courage, and,
as usual, attempted to act as peacemaker.
“Dr. Van Boeck,” she said in a not-quite-steady
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voice, “please excuse my cousin. She really does feel
awful, and I don’t feel much better myself. The staff
here seems very chary with the pain medicine.”
Dr. Van Boeck scowled at Judith. “Are you questioning our medical expertise?” he asked in a gruff
tone.
“She’s questioning your common sense,” Renie
broke in, “of which you people seem to have very little. What the hell is the point of allowing patients to
feel miserable? How can we sleep? How can we assume the proper attitude toward recovery? If you want
to keep up your little charade about your concern for
patients, why don’t you just shoot us after we come out
of surgery and be done with it? Or,” Renie went on, her
eyes narrowing, “is that more or less what happened
with Somosa, Fremont, and Randall?”
Dr. Van Boeck’s face had turned purple. Apparently,
the commotion had attracted the attention of other staff
members. The silent orderly, a nurse Judith didn’t recognize, and Peter Garnett crowded in the doorway.
“You miserable creature!” Dr. Van Boeck shouted at
Renie, and then choked. He grabbed his throat and
staggered, bumping into Mr. Mummy in the visitor’s
chair.
“What is this?” Dr. Garnett demanded, rushing into
the room. “Jan, what’s wrong?”
Dr. Van Boeck turned to look at Garnett, tried to
speak, clutched his right arm, and crashed to the floor.
“Good lord!” Garnett cried, and kneeled beside his
colleague. “Quick, get help! I think he’s had a stroke!”
Heather and the other nurse ran off. Mr. Mummy,
looking pale, put a hand to his chest. The silent orderly
stood like a statue, watching the little scene on the
floor.
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193
“Oh, dear,” said Renie in dismay.
“Are you okay?” Judith whispered to Mr. Mummy.
He nodded. “Yes. Yes, but this is . . . terrible.” Clumsily, he got out of the chair. “I’d better leave.” He bustled out of the room.
Despite all the confusion, Judith noticed that Mr.
Mummy wasn’t limping.
Five minutes later, Jan Van Boeck had been removed
from the room. Judith hadn’t been able to tell exactly
what kind of emergency measures the frantic staff
members had applied, but another doctor, Father McConnaught, and Sister Jacqueline had also shown up.
Few words were exchanged, except for terse directions
from Dr. Garnett. Then everyone was gone and the
cousins were left staring at each other.
“I feel awful,” Renie said, shrinking back into the
pillows.
“Well . . .” Judith was at a loss for words. “I guess
you should. Maybe.”
“Maybe?” Renie brightened a bit.
“I really doubt if your little horror show caused Dr.
Van Boeck’s collapse,” Judith said carefully. “A perfectly ordinary man wouldn’t have gotten that upset.
He’d have just blown you off or walked out. But he
must have been on the edge in the first place. You can’t
be the first patient who ever had a tantrum at Good
Cheer. Just think of all the genuinely crazy people who
must have been in and out of this hospital over the
years.”
Renie looked perturbed. “Are you saying I’m not
genuine?”
Judith grinned at her cousin. “You know what I
mean. But you definitely hit a nerve with Van Boeck.
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Remember, he was yelling at somebody out in the hall,
probably Addison Kirby, and he certainly didn’t look
very happy when he came out of the staff lounge a
while ago. I still think he had a row with Dr. Garnett.”
“They don’t seem to get along,” Renie noted. “It’s a