Alan smiled at her from across the table. It was a weak smile, but it seemed genuine. He looked more worn and haggard than the last time she had seen him, when they had sat at this same table after meeting in the cemetery. She had been shocked that the board would even think of calling Alan on the carpet, and had rushed to lend him whatever support she could.
"I just got word about this hearing of yours before the Board of Trustees."
"Bad news travels fast."
"Not as fast as you might think. I'm a big contributor to the building fund over there and I hear things sooner than most. Sol made some calls and…" She didn't want to say this, but he had to be told. He had to be ready.
"And?"
"It doesn't look good."
He shrugged.
"Don't take this lightly, Alan. The four board members I spoke to are really upset with that editorial in the Express and are taking its implications very seriously. They're beginning to see you as a real threat to the hospital's expansion bid."
"Who'd you speak to?"
"My father-in-law, naturally. He sells the hospital all its insurance—an expanded hospital means expanded premiums for him. Two others made me promise not to mention their names to anyone, but I can tell you that one runs the bank where I keep my accounts and the other brokers some real estate for me now and then."
She waited for the light of recognition in Alan's eyes and a conspiratorial smile that would reflect her own. Neither came.
"I'm sorry…"he said with a baffled shake of his head. "I don't…"
How could he forget the board members? Was it possible to be on the staff of the hospital all these years and not know the names on the Board of Trustees?
"Never mind," she said quickly to cover his obvious embarrassment. "Their names aren't important. It's what they think that counts, and they think you're a liability."
"You're making my day," he said with a wry twist of his mouth. "Who was the fourth?"
"My uncle, naturally—your esteemed ex-partner."
"I'm sure he'll give a stirring speech in my defense."
"Right—when water flows uphill. So you can see why I'm worried. That's four out of ten. I don't know the others but I doubt they feel any different."
Alan leaned back and mused in silence. She watched his troubled face, sharing his anguish.
"You don't deserve this," she said. "You haven't hurt anybody. You've—"
"Maybe I should just resign from the staff," he said as if he hadn't heard her. "I hardly use the hospital nowadays anyway."
"I'm sure they'd love that. It would save them a lot of trouble if you made the decision for them."
"I'll tell you quite frankly, Sylvia: The thought of standing before that board scares the hell out of me. I don't want to have to explain myself to them or anyone else."
"But if you don't show, that will give them more ammunition against you."
"Well, I don't want to make it easy for them, and I don't want to put another bullet in their gun," Alan said, straightening up. "So that leaves me with showing up and toughing it out."
"I guess so." But you're going to get hurt, she thought with a tightening in her chest.
"They're not going to shut me off," he said with sudden determination.
He gave her a tight smile and she smiled back with her lips only. She knew he was putting on a show for her, but she saw through it. He was afraid.
And he should be.
___23.___
Alan
Alan swerved in toward the curb when he saw Tony standing there, waving.
"What are you doing here?" he asked as Tony got in. "We were supposed to meet at the office."
"You can't get into the goddamn parking lot," he said, lighting a cigarette as soon as he settled himself in the seat. "It's loaded with cripples."
"Handicapped," Alan said.
"You speak Newspeak, I'll speak Oldspeak. Whatever they are, they've taken over the whole fucking lot. I figured there'd be a mob scene if you showed up so I walked up a couple of blocks to head you off at the pass."
He dragged on his cigarette, rolled his window down two inches, and let the smoke flow through the opening.
"I spoke to some of them, you know. Most of them are here because of that article in People. Like they've been to Lourdes and the Vatican and Bethlehem already, looking to be cured of something. But others know somebody who's already seen you and been cured of something incurable."
They passed the office then. Alan was startled at the congestion of cars and vans and people that filled the lot and overflowed onto the street and lined the curbs. He hadn't been to the office in days. He hadn't realized…
Guilt filled him. He hadn't used the Touch in days. He had wasted hours of power.
"And so now they're all here—looking for you. It's taken me a couple of days, Al, but I got to tell you, I'm a believer. You've got something."
Alan feigned a wounded expression. "You mean you doubted me?"
"Shit, yes! You threw me some real curves there. I thought that maybe you needed a checkup from the neck up, if you know what I mean."
Alan smiled. "So did I at first. But then I realized that if I was having delusions, an awful lot of formerly sick people were sharing them."
When he had called Tony for help, he had told him the truth about the Dat-tay-vao. He had felt it necessary to lay everything out for the man who would be advising him at the hearing. He had told him about the incident in the emergency room, about how his new power dovetailed with the life history of the derelict Tony had researched.
Tony had been skeptical, but not overtly so. Alan was glad that he seemed to be convinced now.
"No lie, Aclass="underline" It's still pretty hard for me to swallow, even after talking to the pilgrims on your doorstep. But the one thing we can't do is tell the Board Bastards that you really have this power."
At the mention of the board, Alan's palms became slippery on the wheel and his stomach went into spasm. In fifteen minutes or so he'd be seated before the board like some juvenile miscreant. He hated the idea. It angered him, but it frightened him even more.
"Why not bring it out in the open once and for all?" Alan asked. "Get it over with."
"No!" Tony fumbled his cigarette, dropped it on the floor of the car, and hastily retrieved it. "Christ, don't even consider it! That'll open up a can of worms I don't even want to think about dealing with!"
"But sooner or later—"
"Al, old buddy, trust me with this. I've looked over the medical staff bylaws and there's nothing in there that threatens you. You don't even have to show up today—and I've advised you not to but you choose to ignore that advice. So be it. But the fact remains: They can't touch you. Let them play their little head games on you all they want. Just sit back and relax. If you haven't been convicted of a felony or found guilty of moral turpitude or gross negligence of your duties as an attending physician in the department of medicine, they can't lay a finger on you. They're just blowin' smoke, man. Let 'em blow."
"If you say so, Tony. I just—"
"Just nothing, Al. You don't take nothin' from these moneylenders, real estate shills, and used car salesmen. You just sit mum and look clean and neat while I do the dirty work."
Alan could see that Tony was working up a head of steam in preparation for the meeting. He let him roll.
"If those turkeys think they can hang you because of a little yellow journalism, they got another think comin'! Let 'em try. Just let 'em try!"
Alan felt his fear and uneasiness slip away in the wash of Tony's belligerent confidence.
"Now, gentlemen," Tony was saying, "I'm sure you're all aware of how embarrassing this is to Dr. Bulmer, to be called before the Board of Trustees like some errant schoolboy before the principal because of some graffiti written about him on the schoolyard wall."