G-157 (7 page)

Chapter Eight

Monday March 15, 2010

Population: 405

The day was one of the longest she could ever remember. Between every class people were milling around her, asking about the outcome with Troy and how their ride around town Saturday night had been. She confirmed that Troy was taking her to the kick off dinner, and quickly changed the conversation to a different subject. Any talk about their ride made her skin grow pale with the thought of what had happ
ened outside
town. She did not speak of the perplexing event on campus. She had promised to tell no one at school, but only no one
at school
. This was a puzzle for an expert, and she
wished the day would
end so she could speak with him.

The two thirty bell chirped through the classroom, followed by shutting books and zipping back packs. It took much longer than usual to escape the campus and evade invitations to after school meet ups before she could walk down Bourbon Street without hassle.

The old brick building on the corner of Row and Bourbon was tucked away from the other businesses in the district. It reminded her of the old buildings in Chicago she had seen in a history book, charming in its simplicity yet depressing in its dire need of repair. Many of the bricks were chipped and stained. The railing up the steps was rickety atop the crumbling block
steps
. One good push was all it would take
to rip the wrought iron from the concrete. Faded shutters holding on for dear life framed a window with a crack snailing its way across the pane. If left to the building’s owner these repairs would never be made. Dr. Caughlin was in his twilight and preferred to spend his time away from patients napping rather than housekeeping, and the old office allowed him to doze in his apartment above the practice in between the occasional patient or guest dropping by to say hello. Aire frowned at the rain gutter tottering over the second story window and made a note to get some volunteers to help clean up the building before the roof fell in on the old man as he slept his last few years away.
She would ask Mike first. If anyone could get a group of people to help, it would be him.

The smell of cleaning detergents and honey scented perfume she had loved since childhood rushed her nose as she entered the office.
The
receptionist
, Darlene Sweeney,
greeted her with
a
broad smile as she shut the door behind her, grunting as she struggled to close it against the will of its sagging hinges. Darlene giggled at her effort, continuing to file her nails with her bare feet propped up on
the
desk.

“Hi there, honey. What brings you in today? You don’t look like you’ve got a cold or any broken bones.”

“No, I’m fine,” Aire said.

“One of those visits
,
huh?” Darlene smiled.

“Yep, one of those visits.”

She’d frequented the doctor’s office since she was a child. Only a handful of her hundreds of visits had been for medical reasons. The rest had been for Caughlin’s stories about the world outside of John’s Town and troubling moments of growing pains as she struggled to understand the world around her. John’s Town didn’t have a psychologist, but in Aire’s opinion, Doc was just as good.

“Alright, honey. Have a seat and I’ll call him for you. He’s been upstairs for a while so he should be nice and rested. I don’t think he’d sleep so much if you weren’t always here pestering him,” Darlene said. She slipped her heels back on and
grabbed the broom from
propped in the corner
. She gave the ceiling three sharps smacks with the broom handle, shouting for the doctor to wake up and get downstairs.

An inarticulate rumbling filtered through the cracked
office
, the floorboards creaking as the doctor stood up and made his way towards the stairs. Aire followed the heavy thumps of his footsteps across the ceiling until she saw him come down the stairs, his stomach covered in old trousers up to the belly button leading the way.

“Afternoon, Aire. What brings you in today? Got another busted wrist?” Dr. Caughlin said as he reached the final step.

“No, sir,” she said. “I haven’t
had
any broken bones since last year’s Moto.”

“Oh?” he said, raising his eyebrows. “What about those two broken knuckles from the swing you took at Lucy Mobley last Halloween?”

Aire scrunched up her nose. “Those didn’t count.”

Dr. Caughlin chuckled. “No, of course they don’t. Lucy still thinks very highly of you though.”

“I don’t care what idiots think.”

“Is that a reason to pop them
one
?”

“No, but she copied my Halloween costume and wouldn’t stop following me and repeating everything I said.”

“That’s still not a good excuse.”

“Well
,
whatever. I ended up hitting
the wall anyway so no harm done,”
she said. “
But,
I’m not here to talk about that. Can we go into the exam room?”

“Of course,” Caughlin said, and led her behind Darlene’s desk and into the only patient examination room in the practice. Aire closed the door securely behind them and sat down on the cracking grey chair next to the sink.

“So,” Caughlin said, both man and chair grunting under his weight and he sat down on the stool. “What’s on your mind, Aire?”

“Well,” she
began
.
A cold feeling flooded over her, as though an ice dam had cracked and sent freezing water rushing upon her. She bit her tongue and looked to the floor. A sick, sinking feeling ripped at her gut.
Beware
, the feeling whispered,
beware.

Aire shook her head and tried to quiet the voice. There was no reason not to tell Dr. Caughlin about Saturday. She’d spent hours in this room over the course of her life speaking to him of her troubles, and he’d never betrayed her trust. He was like the grandfather she never had, and listened to his every word about
stories from the outside world, stories of vending machines and houses with different floor plans and freedom to do as one so pleased
,
though his recollections were a bit empty at times from a car accident that had left a three inch scar at th
e base of his skull.
He’d warned her of the dangers too, of the theft and violence and murder, never to deter her from leaving though, merely to caution.
So why are you afraid to confide in him now
, she asked herself.
Beware,
her gut whispered back,
beware
.

“Aire?” Caughlin said, leaning his ma
ssive figure forward. “Did you d
o something you weren’t supposed to?”

“Yes. Well, no. But sort of, I guess you could say.” She began picking her fingernails, her palms beginning to moisten.

“Spit it out.”

“Okay,” she said, taking a deep breath. “So this is what happened. Saturday night I asked Troy to take me to the hospital to go see Becky since I don’t have a bike anymore. We got out of the city and had passed a couple billboards when Troy had to stop. He was crying, like really bawling his eyes out. He said he couldn’t go on because he felt so hopeless and sad. But as soon as we got back into town, he felt like himself again.”

“Yes.”

Aire stared at the old man’s unchanged expression. “Well?”

“What’s your question Aire?”

“What do you mean
‘
what’s my question?
’
Have you become one of
them
?”

Dr. Caughlin smiled down at her, his expansive, fleshy cheeks cloaking his cornflower blue eyes. “I know
what
your question
is. I
t’s one that everyone in John’s Town knows the answer to so it surprises me you ask. It happens on occasion. Everyone born in this town loves the place so much that it breaks their hearts to leave it. Just about everyone has wandered a little too far from home and come to see me the next day asking
me about the same thing that happened to Troy
. It’s completely natural.”

“But, it didn’t happen to me.”

“Well.” He leaned back onto his stool
and rubbed a hand over his knee
. It gave another groan, and for a moment she thought it would give out. “You’ve always been a bit different. Never in a bad way, just unique.”

“How come I’ve never heard of that before?”

“Aire,” he said frowning. “Again with the questions you already know.”

“I know,” she sighed. “We don’t talk about the bad stuff. But, if it’s so common then it can’t be bad, so why not share the experience?”

“Don’t know,” he shrugged. “People get funny that way. You’ve gotten sick and lost your lunch before. Did you tell everyone about that? Or about any other unpleasant bodily functions that happen to everyone on a regular basis?”

“No.”

“There you go then.”

“Hmm. Makes sense, I guess. Still weird though.” She tapped her finger on her chin, her head cocking to the left. Caughlin remained silent, waiting for her to continue. She bit her lip and began to pick at her palms, her gaze
drifting
from the peeling linoleum, to the jar of cotton balls on the counter, and finally back to the old man. “You have to go to college to be a doctor, right?”

“Of course.”

“What was it like? The univ
ersity you went to back in the S
tates?”

Caughlin’s cheeks jiggled with laughter. “Oh it was a grand old time. We stayed up late, had parties and road trips and all the junk food we could eat. Grand old time. It was
n’t like the trade schools here
. Why?”

Aire shrugged. “I’d like to go to a school in the States.”

“Hmm.” The smile faded from Caughlin’s face. He rubbed a wrinkled hand over the stubble on his cheeks. “A fine endeavor, but one I won’t be of much use helping you accomplish
since I don’t remember much of it
,” he said, tapping
the scar on the back of his neck, “only that it was a wonderful time in my life.
But I am about ready to retire. Mayor Jenkins gave me permission to take on an apprentice over the summer, if you’re interested.”

“Maybe.”

“Think about it.”

“I will,” Aire nodded. “Hey, Doc? Why did you choose to move to John’s Town?”

Caughlin frowned, his face
darkening
in concentration.
That feeling of dangered panged at her gut again;
beware.
His eyes took on a faraway look as he searched the recesses of his memory. His voice came quiet and slow. “I remember it was better…something…it was better to come here…something happened…” He shook his head. “I can’t remember, but I know there had been a good reason.”

“It’s okay if you can’t remember, Doc.”

“I’m sorry, Aire. I wish I could better answer your questions.”

She smiled at him. “It’s okay. I do have one more question that you might be able to answer.”

“Shoot.”

“How do the ambulances know when to come?”

Caughlin folded his arms over his belly and leaned back, sending
up
another groaning creak from the stool. “What do you mean?”

“Letters are the fastest means of communication to places outside of John’s Town, and the mail only runs once a week to the outside. If the ambulances have to come from Parker, how do they know when to get here if someone is going to have a baby or if they have a serious accident? I mean, Parker is what, twenty five, twenty six miles away? How do they get here so fast when someone needs them?”

“Oh,” Caughlin said with a chuckle. “That’s an easy one. I send everyone’s yearly check up to the hospital in Parker. From the information I give them, they know exactly when something is going to happen, like Becky having her baby or when Mr. Sitowski had his heart attack two winters ago. With all their
fancy medical equipment
they can pinpoint when something is going to happen with a person’s health almost to the minute the incident occurs.”

“Hmm.”

“Does that answer your question?”

Aire nodded, and picked at her fingernail again before hoisting herself up from the chair. “Yeah, that makes sense. Well, Doc, I think I’ll get out of your hair for the day
. Thanks
for seeing me.”

“You bet,” Caughlin said as she began to walk across the exam room towards the door. “And, Aire, think about what I said about the apprenticeship. I think you’d make a fabulous doctor. You know as well as I do we need more fine minds in high positions in this place.”