Doc Table of contents
W01
Eve
W02
First Meeting
W03
Parents
W04
School Days
W05
After School
W06
Leaving the Mansion
W07
Recruiter
W08
Frigid
W09
Abortion
W10
Tabloid
W11
Last
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I sat at a secluded table on the patio
of the Broadmoor while twilight disappeared behind the shoulder of
Cheyenne mountain. Sipping an after dinner scotch, I tried to decide
what to do with the rest of the evening, when a change in the shadows
turned my head. At first I thought it was my waitress returning to
fill my glass, but that though disappeared as fast as it came because
long sleeves, long hem, and a low cut top became apparent.
She was
tall, curvaceous, and graceful. "It looks like you need some
pussy." Before I could recover my composure, she moved to the
table, pulled out a chair, and sat down. "I'm sorry, I
apologize, I should never have said that, besides, I have no
intention of satisfying your needs."
"I apologize for
forgetting my manners, I'm Jim Smith."
"You may call me
Eve."
"Your opening remark unsettled me, I have not
received such a crude approach since I was in Tijuana." She
laughed. "Does my appearance or behavior betray the status of my
sex life?" She laughed again.
"Forgive me for being so
bold." She looked at the lake. "I'm assuming you don't have
any plans for the rest of the evening, neither do I and I was hoping
you would satisfy my curiosity. I followed you into the dinning room
and observed much of what has transpired. Would you fill in the gaps?
I would like to know if my conclusions about your evening are
correct. You don't dance do you?" She finally paused.
"No,
I don't have plans for the rest of the evening. Yes, I dance, but not
very well, my feet march to a different drummer and only occasionally
do they move to the same music my ears hear. Tonight was not one of
those rare nights so I declined to dance with the young ladies."
"Let
me tell you what I think happened and you correct as I talk."
She proceeded to tell me her version of the evening, it was
remarkably correct. "Your colonel told your commanding officer
that you were on a special assignment on Friday night and he was to
make sure you were free to go, you knew where to go and what to do.
You were to meet him here and entertain the nieces so he could make
time with the aunt, but when you arrived one of the young ladies was
sick and you decided to excuse yourself after dinner. Am I
right?"
"Yes."
"You were gallant, sending
rose to the absent young lady. I'll bet she cried herself to sleep.
Also, I'll bet, you asked her out when she was feeling
better."
"Correct."
"I like that, chivalry
is not dead." We watched the lights come on in the ice arena
across the lake. "Would you take me home?"
"Yes."
She
summarized her life story on the way without my asking. She was well
educated and well traveled. Her family was very wealthy and lived on
the east coast. They disowned her because she refused to get
professional help for her heroin addiction. She was turned into a
prostitute to support her habit. A friend made her quit cold turkey.
He was killed in a car accident, but his best friend, Joe,
survived.
Joe remained in charge of the organization they created
and provided her with an income. She became an alcoholic trying to
drown her loneliness. Her best friend, Middy, who started her heroin
habit, made her join AA. She kicked the alcohol habit and became
active in AA. She decided to move west, to Colorado Springs.
She
enjoyed Colorado in earlier years, no bad memories were associated
with the state. She wrote letters to her family, but she would not
visit them. We arrived at her apartment, "Will you come in and
talk." I followed her. "I want to tell someone the complete
story and wondered if you would be that someone."
"Sure."
She
prepared pie a la mode, "Here, eat while I change." She
left the room, but continued to talk. She returned before I finished
the pie, wearing a long night gown covered by a very tasteful house
coat. Everything about and around Eve was tasteful. She was a
beautiful woman, with long light brown hair, five foot ten, 36, 26,
38, about 140 pounds, and fifteen years old than I. She wore eye
shadow every time she went out and some times lip stick, she had
removed both.
She spent the next three hours expanding her earlier
summary, starting with her best friend Middy. They grew up together
since age nine, lived next door, went to school together, they seldom
did anything apart. Middy decided what they would do and Eve did it
first. Eve had the first date, the first kiss, the first dance, the
first cigarette, the first drink, the first shoplifting, the first
petting, the first sex, and the first heroin.
Middy never tried
heroin and regretted the day she told Eve to try it. The pusher
wanted Eve and made sure she became addicted, then convinced her to
move in with him. After he had taken her money and when her family
wouldn't give her any more, he sold her to his friends. When the
effects of the addiction became to disconcerting, he sold her to a
pimp. The pimp sold her to high priced clients until Eve looked
haggard, then he put her on the street.
Her friend, Doc, found her
in an air shaft one night and started her recovery. She had lost
fifty pounds and had many diseases. He brought her back from death to
health and gave her a reason to live, in the process, she fell in
love with him.
He was in a car accident a few years after her
recovery and died from multiple injuries after a two week struggle.
Eve was holding his hand when he died and heard his last words, "That
other place."
"I had a terrible time when Doc died, I
didn't expect him to die. Each day his speech improved, I thought he
was getting better. I never envisioned him lying in bed, he was
always standing beside a bed comforting someone else. I, just,
couldn't accept the fact that he was the one in the bed.
During
the second week, he uttered several long clear tirades and the day
before he died, he eloquently told me an allegory involving
trees."
Joe helped her recover from grief, but no one could
replace Doc. Eve turned to the bottle as a substitute because she had
promised Doc she would never use heroin again. After Middy made her
join AA, she recovered quickly, and once again regained her
health.
She wore eye shadow to mask her sunken eyes, the only
outward sign of her past she couldn't cover with clothing. If she
watched her language anyone would think she lived a sedate life. But
Eve wouldn't control her impulses, she would switch from
sophisticated language to street talk and back again without skipping
a beat. Her stories were never consistent or in any particular order
and she made no attempt to make them consistent or put them in
order.
Fatigue set in and I stood to leave, Eve, sensing what I
was about to do came over and took my hand, "You may as well
relieve yourself before you leave. Don't say anything, I just changed
my mind, that's all," and led me to her bedroom.
She had not
just changed her mind, the bed spread, blankets, and top sheet were
neatly folded on the cedar chest at the foot of the bed. She removed
her house coat and night gown, but not her long silk stockings or her
long sleeves. They covered her needle scars, she didn't want anyone
to see or touch those scars, not even incidentally.
She gestured
for me to put my clothes next to hers on top of the bed clothes. She
lay on the bed and spread her legs. I entered easily, without any
fore play, not even a kiss and that was the way sex with her was to
be. She turned her face away when our bodies met and wrapped her legs
around me so tight, I couldn't move. I knew she was crying and
understood, I slid my arms underneath her and held her.
This was
the only other time that Eve stopped talking. When we were alone she
never stopped except when she reached orgasm and when we were with
other people she rarely said anything. Doc was gone and she was still
coping with loneliness, she didn't use his name until our third
meeting. She didn't have a friend, not even a neighbor, Eve wouldn't
let anyone get close.
She helped other alcoholics, but at a
distance and always about the other person, she never let herself
become a part of the relationship. Eight years is a long time to be
alone and now she was finishing the grief process.
Eventually she
release her legs, I began to move and she began to talk. An hour
later she said, "It's time for you to go." We washed and I
dressed. "See, I knew you were horny. You came three times
before you missed a stroke."
As she walked me to her door,
she gave me her address card, "Now you can call if you can't
come. You know like that old joke of why there is a phone in a whore
house." She laughed.
The next Wednesday, I called, she didn't
wait for me to ask, "Come over and have spaghetti," so I
did. She spent most of the evening talking about Middy. When Middy
was nine, her father bought a two masted sail boat. Middy wore a
sailor suit every time she came on board. She strut up and down the
deck barking orders to imaginary sailors. Soon her family and friends
called her midshipman and later contracted it to Middy.
Middy was
a kind and considerate friend, but at times she would be mean and
vicious. Eve always let Middy dominate, she did what ever Middy said.
Eve had changed since her recovery from alcoholism, she became
dominate or at least more assertive.
"How was your date? You
know, with the niece? I figured they were leaving soon, so you would
have to meet on Saturday or Sunday. Come on, tell me and don't leave
out any details."
"You're right. On Sunday and I can't
remember a more pleasant date. I received a message at lunch, to meet
her at four in the lobby, she would be holding a rose.
She was
short, very well proportioned, but not as good looking as the other
two. She had short black hair and her dress was perfect for her,
accenting her figure and complimenting her skin tone, we were a
handsome couple.
She didn't drink or smoke, adding to my
enjoyment. She was honest, direct, and tactful and she put me at ease
quickly and easily. We had dinner at the Broadmoor and went for an
after dinner walk, it was a beautiful evening.
I told her, 'The
sunsets this time of the year are unique. The sun appears to set in
Ute pass and as it sets, there will be one golden shaft of light
against a dark background'.
That is exactly what happened, she was
pleased.
While we were waiting for the sun to set, we told each
other about ourselves. Neither of us was at a loss for words, we were
very relaxed. It was so enjoyable, we both forgot the time and they
were leaving early the next morning. When she realized how late it
was she wanted to go to her room but I told her there was something
else I wanted to show her and it wouldn't take very long.
I took
her one of my favorite places a mesa over looking the city, what a
sight. The night air was very clear and the city lights were
sparkling jewels. She began to weep and put her head on my shoulder,
I held her hand.
'This is the most memorable night of my life, I
don't know how to repay you.'
'You already have by being such a
beautiful date', now she cried."
"She wanted you, boy
did she want you."
Eve stood, "Take me to see the
lights."
"Now?"
"Now. We can talk there."
I drove her to the mesa. "Continue."
"After a while
she stopped, thanked me again for the date, the roses, and yes, she
did cry herself to sleep Friday night. The cramps were so bad, she
spent most of the evening bent over holding her ankles. After she
read my note with the roses, she forgot about the cramps, threw
herself on the bed, and just plain bawled."
"What did
you write on the note?"
"May the red roses take the
blues away. Would you have dinner with me before you leave?"
Eve
nodded. "We sat, holding hands with her head on my shoulder,
looking at the lights and talking until the stars faded. I drove
quickly back, she gave me a nice kiss, and said a hurried good bye. I
drove back to post, changed into my fatigues, and made it back to my
unit just in time to go to the field with the troops."
Eve
looked at me with a skeptical glance, "You didn't make a pass at
her?"
"No, I didn't make a pass at her, sex never
entered my mind."
"Even after she said, 'I don't know
how to repay you?'"
"I didn't even try to kiss her, I
wasn't aroused at any time during the date.
Another thing, I had
gone thirty six hours without sleep and I wasn't tired." I
looked at Eve, "Why are you teary eyed?"
"Empathy.
I know how she felt, a young woman on her first real date and all you
did was hold her hand." She kissed my cheek. "Thank you. It
is beautiful."
"Your welcome."
"Take me
back."
Eve was delighted with the details of the date. She
wanted me to tell her about my other dates. "I have to leave,
maybe another time, I will come again," and I did a couple of
weeks later. Eve was interested in my romances and especially if I
had sex. If I told her my date rebuffed my advances or would not have
sex after accepting my advances, she would say, "Poor baby,"
and lead me to her bedroom, "We can't have you going around half
cocked, now can we? We can talk later." Then she would
laugh.
She never waited to talk later, it was as if my being there
opened the flood gates and her words came pouring out. If I wanted
sex, all I had to do was ask. If she wanted sex, she would meet me at
her door and lead me to her bedroom before I could finish my
greeting.
During the third meeting Eve finally used Doc's name.
Doc was a genius with a fantastic memory. He was a homely man, almost
ugly. He had a large head, bald except for a fringe, with heavy bones
around his eyes, giving him an ape like appearance. He was built like
a fire plug; short, five seven and one hundred sixty pounds, with
very little fat; with short powerful legs and very long strong arms,
hands, and fingers. He couldn't run fast, but he could move very
quickly. Many underestimated Doc's capabilities and didn't live to
regret their error.
From the third meeting on, Doc was the focus
of her stories. I soon realized Doc's story was incredible and I
mentioned it to her. "I'm going to write a book about him some
day," that was thirty years ago and I have never seen her book
in print.
I met Eve many times over the next five months and each
time we met she seemed happier and more relaxed, but every now and
then she made an off hand remark such as, "I don't want to say
good bye or I know we won't see each other again." For all of
her bad experiences, she was content and satisfied. She continued to
ask about my dates and became very excited when I told her about a
letter I received.
She said, 'Thank you for being a gentleman, I
was very vulnerable and I can't thank you enough, but hope the gift
will remind you of my gratitude every time you wear them.'
"What
did she give you?"
"A pair of silver pistol cuff
links."
"No return address!" Eve put her arms
around me. "You would like to have another date with her
wouldn't you?"
"Yes."
“I told you she
wanted you, but she was to naive, she didn't know how to tell you
without violating everything she was taught. I agree with Doc, this
is one example where ignorance protects us when sophistication can
lead to tragedy."
It took awhile, but I discovered why Eve
was so interested in my love affairs, she wanted me to be a better
lover. She was very subtly coaching me and then asked questions to
find out if her coaching made a difference. When I challenged her,
she admitted she was. After that she was very direct, "There are
so many unsatisfied partners in the world and I'm going to help
satisfy your partners."
"Aren't you afraid I will take
advantage of women?"
"No, you will never take advantage
of any woman. You've never lied to a woman in your life and I'm
willing to bet you wouldn't lead a woman on. Am I right?"
"Not
consciously."
"Besides you're husband material and what
woman wouldn't want you. Women will do the damnedest things to get a
husband and will justify their actions with even worse logic. If
anyone will be taken advantage of, it will be you. You seem to be
aware of women's wiles, but I think I can add a few more to be on
guard against.
Returning to the topic of unsatisfied partners, you
can satisfy your partner without having sex. Even men don't need sex
to be satisfied, your date with the niece is a prime example.
Most
women want romantic sex, but mostly they want romance and as Doc
often said, 'Women only want a little romance and that is what men
give them, a little romance, DAMN LITTLE.'
They want to be treated
like a lady. They want to be treated with respect. They want to be
treated like they have value in their own right."
"I
agree."
"Doc and I had many long discussions on this
topic. He from a personal and a medical point of view and me from a
personal and a professional point of view or at least what I can
remember. The heroin kind of messed up my memory and my perception of
reality.
This philosophy that we are supposed to look out for the
other person and not take care of ourselves is a bunch of bunk.
Everyone should be self centered, but not selfish and not at the
expense of anyone else. It's amazing how much less baggage you carry
with you. You know, like guilt complexes and ego problems and such.
And even more amazing is the satisfaction of those around you,
especially your sex partners." She continued on the same topic
for the rest of the evening.
My tour of duty was ending in March
and Eve knew I would be leaving soon. She planned a special going
away dinner for me and asked me to call her the last week in
February. I called and no answer, I went to her apartment, the
landlord said, "She's moved and left no forwarding address."
I checked with the post office, the same result. Since we had no
mutual friends, I had no where to go. She didn't own a car so I
couldn't trace her that way. All I knew was her AA name, that's all
anyone knew.
About ten years later, I received a letter from the
organization, Eve had been killed in a commercial airline crash.
Enclosed was a short note she wrote for that event.
"I
enjoyed your company very much. You will never know how much our
relationship meant to me. Thank you for being gentle and patient with
me. You were the only man who could turn me on, merely by saying
hello, you were very satisfying.
Thank you for listening to me and
helping me accept being alone, I did make new friends after I left
Colorado. I know you will marry and have a family, that's why I left
when I did. I apologize for leaving that way, but I could not say
good bye.
I wish the best for you and your family. I will love you
always. Eve"
Obviously, I have not told you everything we did
or said, nor will I, but here is the story Eve told me as best I can
remember.
Return to Doc Table of Content
After Doc died, Eve and Joe grieved
together for nearly a year. They told stories to relieve their grief,
stories about Doc, stories about themselves, or stories Doc told
them. They added facts to mutual stories that the other forgot or
didn't know. They laughed and cried and hugged one another. Joe was
not the most intelligent person in the world and Eve's brain and
memory were impaired by her experience with heroin, but Doc had
coached them well, they understood most of what he said. They knew
Doc's wishes, his out look on life, and it helped them recover. The
stories began when Eve asked, "How did you become friends with
Doc?"
"I met Doc shortly after he returned from his
grandparents farm. Doc sold his last newspaper to a man coming out of
a warehouse office on a side street used only by cabs and delivery
trucks. Doc was putting the money in his pocket and the man stepped
into the street to hail a cab when I raced around the corner, leaving
drops of blood on the sidewalk with each step. Doc sized up the
situation instantly, he went into the drive between the office and
the warehouse, pick up a long piece of cardboard, folded one flap
under, and ran to the side walk, he knew someone would be close
behind me.
I tried to get into the cab, but collapsed from
exhaustion, when the man pushed me away. The cab drove away before he
could shut the door, the cabby saw me and didn't want me in his
cab.
Doc placed the cardboard on the side walk with the flap
underneath and beyond the curb. He stood on the cardboard, grabbed my
collar, and walked backwards dragging me on to the cardboard. The
flap jammed against the curb and stopped the cardboard from sliding
as he dragged me on to it. He flipped the flap up to keep my blood on
the cardboard and dragged me into the drive being careful to go
around the blood on the side walk. He hid me behind some packing
crates and covered me with scrap cardboard and paper. He returned to
the street and walked in the same direction as the cab.
Three men
came around the corner following the trail of blood. They stopped
Doc, 'Where did the boy go?' Doc pointed to the cab at the end of the
block, delayed by two delivery trucks. They ran after the cab. One
truck moved and the cab driver squealed his tires as he drove away. A
car came around the corner and as the three men got in, 'Follow that
cab'. The delivery trucks blocked the street again until one driver
saw a gun. Quickly he moved his truck and the car sped away.
Doc
ran back to me and tucked paper around me until I was completely
covered. He pulled on the cardboard, dragging me around the blood on
the side walk and across the street. When he came to the corner he
turned left and turned the opposite direction at every corner, until
he could pull no more.
Fortunately my blood didn't seep through
and the few cars and people who passed us, paid no attention. After
resting, Doc looked for a hiding place. He stepped into the street,
but a cab blocked his path and a familiar voice said, 'Can I help?'
Together they put me in the cab. 'Where to?'
'Take us home.' Doc
stopped my bleeding while they talked.
'Don't ask me why,
something told me to turn and stop. I didn't know it was you until I
was out of my cab.'
'It must have been mental telepathy, but what
ever it was, I was sure glad to see you.'
The warehousemen carried
me in and put me on Doc's bed, while Doc said a hurried good bye to
the cabby. Doc cut my clothes off, cleaned, and treated my cuts. Most
were not deep, I still have scars to remind me of that day. He
bandaged the deep cuts, covered me with his blankets, and let me
sleep. The owner brought in another cot and bedroom items so I could
stay with Doc.
I groaned when I woke and Doc was right there, he
told me not to talk. He put ice on my face and placed a small piece
of ice on my lips. 'Let the water run into your mouth, don't let the
ice fall in.' I swallowed a small amount of water. 'Try to
sleep.'
Each time I woke, Doc placed another small piece of ice on
my lips and more ice on my face. The next afternoon I could see and
drink milk from a straw. By night fall, I could walk without help and
the next day I was eating soft food. Doc could even understand me and
told me what happened while I was out.
When my face was back to
normal, Doc told me to go to school, I refused. The next day I worked
in the warehouse. We took turns working in the warehouse on Saturday
and keeping the stove going every night. On the alternate Saturdays
and nights, I went my own way. Nearly every week, I came home beat
up. Doc said, 'If you're going to fight, you better learn how. I'll
teach you.'
I laughed, but not for long, Doc decked me before I
could draw my next breath. I looked up at him, 'Where'd you learn how
to do that?'
I picked my self up, 'And I thought I was good.' He
told me when he first started to sell newspapers, the bigger boys
would beat him up and take his newspapers, and chase him away from
the better corners. He did two things, first he read every book in
the library on marshal arts and second he changed his strategy for
selling newspapers.
I couldn't believe it, 'You learned that from
books?' Doc nodded. 'OK, Doc, you convinced me, I'm going back to
school.' No one bothered me at school, everyone knew I came with Doc.
Doc got some books from the library and we learned together. It was
much easier to practice with a partner than with your shadow, much
safer too. Our mistakes were very evident and we could correct them
without loosing a fight or getting hurt. I was more athletic than Doc
and could do things Doc couldn't, but he beat me with brute
strength.
As I improved, I didn't come home beat up as often, I
won more than I lost. Doc tried to get me to avoid a fight if
possible. If not, to end the fight quickly so my opponent couldn't
get help and I could get away before the police came.
It took
awhile, but I finally learned, Doc knew what he was talking about and
used what he knew, he wasn't just a know it all. As our friendship
grew, I began to confide in Doc and told him a little at a time why I
was fighting.
The winter before I met Doc, I struck up a
conversation with a hooker when I was looking for warm place to
sleep. She took me to her apartment, shared with three others, they
worked for the same pimp. I was such a hit with the girls, they
invited me to stay if I would do the cooking and the housekeeping.
I'm a good cook and I don't mind the other chores, I would've done
almost anything to stay warm. I didn't go to school so their hours
didn't bother me, I went to work when they did.
One morning their
pimp woke us, yelling, 'Where's my money?' He slapped the girls.
Business was bad and they had spent every penny on food and rent.
'Where's my money?' He hit each one harder.
As he moved around the
room, hitting them again, he noticed me under the blankets and pulled
them off, 'You know the rules, no clients in your apartment.'
'He's
not a client, he's a friend, he needed a place to sleep.'
'Get
your things and don't come back.' I got dressed, pick up my things,
and left. I went across the street and hid under a stairway. When the
pimp came out, I went back, he had beaten them pretty bad. They said
I had to go.
'No, I won't go, I'll put a lock and bolt on the
door. When he comes I'll hide on the fire escape before you open the
bolt.' They didn't like it, but they let me do it. When the pimp
returned the following week, he didn't like the lock and bolt on the
door either, but he let it stay when the girls claimed someone was
stealing their things.
The cat and mouse game continued until the
week before I met Doc. None of us had enough money to satisfy the
pimp and he beat them. I had it and came back into the apartment and
hit the pimp from behind and knocked him out.
'You shouldn't've
done that, now, he will kill us', and they began to pack. The pimp
began to come around before we left, all five of us beat him. The
girls really let him have it, they were fighting for their lives and
they knew it. We left him unconscious on the floor. They hoped he
wouldn't be able to find them and would forget them. He didn't find
them, he found me.
I didn't see him until the last second and
moved backward just enough so he didn't knock me out. He was a poor
fighter, but he had me on the ropes and landed several blows to my
face. I held him off until I recovered and beat the tar out of
him.
He pulled a knife and cut me many times on the arms and legs,
but I didn't let him stick me. He made a mistake, I kicked him in the
balls, I didn't wait to watch him fall, I was around the corner and
down the block before he staggered and fell on his own knife.
The
pimp was making his payment to the mob collectors when he saw me. He
must've told them to wait, he had some unfinished business to take
care of and would be right back and ran around the corner after
me.
The collectors didn't see me and didn't know who he was after.
When the pimp didn't return they came after him. They saw the pimp
fall and me run away, but not good enough to recognize me. They
followed my blood drops.
A couple of months later I introduced Doc
to the girls. A client beat one of them and I wanted Doc to look at
her, he didn't find anything major. Then I had to tell Doc the whole
story, I didn't have to tell him very much, he knew.
The girls
invited Doc to eat at their apartment. During the next year, Doc
became their friend, their confidant, their first aider, and their
doctor. He checked them and helped keep yeast and urinary infections
under control. If he found anything serious, he sent them to an MD
and kept them off the street until they were no longer contagious.
We
took turns sleeping at their apartment. It was a long walk, but Doc
said, 'Meals cooked by Joe were worth the walk.' I left a pot of
soup, chili, or stew on the stove and roast meat in the ice box,
anyone could eat at any time. The girls were great for Doc, they let
him do anything. If he wanted to look at them or to probe, he could
look at anything or probe anywhere, anytime, for as long as he wanted
and they answered his questions without hesitation. Between the girls
and his deliveries Doc learned a lot about women. And men.
My life
story is nearly the same as Doc's, except my parents are alive, I
just don't know where they are. I was three years older than Doc, but
one year behind in school. As Doc learned more about me, he made
suggestions to help me. I did what Doc said and everything he told
me, worked.
So two unwanted children became fast friends. Our
friendship grew stronger each day, it became so strong we risked our
lives for one another. Doc often said, 'I didn't save your life, I
prevented your premature death.'" Joe cried and Eve cried with
him. Slowly they stopped and Eve said, "Do you remember when we
met."
"How could I forget, it was the third most
embarrassing event in Doc's life and I talked him into going, he
never forgave me for that. He didn't go out very much and I thought
Middy's party would do him some good."
"You were always
invited to all the important parties, the ladies liked having a
smooth talking, tall, dark, handsome over dresser at their parties.
You over dressed most of the time. If the occasion was casual, you
wore a sports coat, if sports clothing, you wore a suit, if suits,
you wore a tux, if formal, you wore casual."
"I still
do, but that night I wore a black tux."
"You attended
several of Middy's parties, but we never met. Middy went from person
to person, chatting for a while and moved to the next person with me
in tow. She walked up to a group of women surrounding you, 'Well,
what attraction do we have here?' Then she saw Doc, 'Come Eve, let's
leave this organ grinder and his monkey to their audience', and
walked away. I looked at Doc and dutifully followed Middy. Through
his anger, Doc could see the hurt on my face, I could tell. Our eyes
met briefly and we both felt a strange bond form between us. We met
and talked at several other parties."
"Doc decided to
ask you for a date, but you never came again. He asked, but if anyone
knew, they were afraid to tell him. He didn't see you again until the
night of his second most embarrassing event, many months later. He
went with me to a party at Middy's penthouse, I really had to twist
his arm to get him to go."
Instantly Eve could visualize
riding the private elevator to the penthouse, it was on three levels.
The first had a receiving room, a utility room, and toilets. The
second had a kitchen, a breakfast nook, a dinning room, and a study.
The third a large sunken living room with a glass wall on one side
with glass doors at each end that opened to the patio. On the other
three sides, were open hallways with bedrooms opposite the living
room. Four open stairways gave access to the living room from the
hallways, one near each patio door and two in the hallway opposite
the patio, equidistant between the end hallways. The patio over
looked the two lower levels, the park, and the city. Round tables
were in the middle and square tables were pushed up against the outer
brick wall. The wall was only a tier above the square tables allowing
anyone sitting at them a view of the park below.
"I remember
the penthouse well, I spent many enjoyable summer days at the
penthouse. I especially enjoyed the patio, I liked to sit in the sun,
drink lemonade, and watch the people in the park."
"Well
that night the party was in full swing when we got there. Doc
couldn't get into the party mood, he greeted the other guests, but
couldn't talk with any of them. He soon became bored and went to the
kitchen for a glass of ginger ale. I passed him in the hall and
shouted at him, 'Stay away from Middy, she's playing rapo.'
'What
do you mean? I don't like Middy and she doesn't like me, I don't
intend to talk with her.'
Several women pulled me down the hall
before I could explain. Doc knew they pulled me away on purpose, but
he didn't come after me, he shook his head and went to the patio. The
patio was empty, he was glad, he wanted to be by himself. He chose a
table next to the wall near the center and set his glass in the
center of the table. He put one hand on each corner and leaned
forward.
Doc liked the city at night, it was the only time the
city looked beautiful to him, he couldn't see the filth. He knew
Middy came up behind him, he didn't like her perfume. 'Hello Middy',
he didn't say anything more and he didn't look at her, he ignored
her."
"That was one reason Middy didn't like Doc, he
ignored her."
"Middy tried to get Doc's attention, but
nothing worked, she bumped him, she leaned on his back, she blew in
his ear, she even kissed him. She tried putting one breast on each
side of his arm and moved up and down. Doc continued to look at the
city. Then she pulled her dress up, spread her legs, and sat on Doc's
hand. He could feel pubic hair, the softness of labia, and
lubricating fluid against the back of his hand, but Doc still looked
at the city.
Middy move away, slapped his face and ran to the
living room door, holding the hem of her dress at her waist. Doc ran
after her. She went up the stairway, ran down the hall at the end of
the living room, turned the corner and ran past the first
stairway.
From the way she moved Doc thought she was going into
one of the bedrooms, but it was only a feint. At the next stairway
she ran down into the living room still holding the hem of her dress
at her waist and yelled, 'Rape'.
Only then did Doc see what else
she had done. She had pulled one shoulder of her dress down to her
waist exposing her bra on that side and dropped her panties down
around one ankle. Everyone laughed except Doc, he was boiling mad,
his bald head was a vivid red. He turned and fled the penthouse
without me.
He walked aimlessly through the city. Dawn came before
he cooled down and looked for landmarks. He was in the middle of a
long dark block in the abandon building section of town. The street
was empty, not a vehicle in either direction. 'Which way should I
go?'
'Help me', you called from an air shaft. 'Please help
me.'"
Tears streamed down Eve's cheeks, Joe held her and
continued. "As Doc walked carefully, to avoid tripping on the
litter, a dark figure brushed past him and ran. The air was foul, but
he could smell seminal fluid. He bent over and saw the nude lower
half of your body. The upper half was covered with cardboard and old
newspapers. He removed the debris, picked you up, and carried you
down the street. When he reached the corner, 'I'm only a mile from
the clinic'.
As he approached, one of our people recognized him
and ran to help. When Doc declined, he ran ahead, yelled, 'Code red'
in the door, and held it open. When Doc set your lifeless body on an
exam table, a team was ready.
Your hair was matted with vomit,
your arms and legs were pocked with needle scars, diarrhea caked your
bottom and the back of your thighs, sores covered your body, and you
had been raped.
'CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT', Doc said to everyone and
yet to no one. 'Some guys would stick it into a rock pile', he shook
his head.
Our staff put your clothes and his into an incinerator
bag, scrubbed you, and took your vital signs. After a shower and
clean clothes, Doc received a preliminary report and resumed the
examination. When he looked into your eyes, 'My God Eve'.
After a
slight hesitation, he continued. When he was finished, 'I don't think
she will survive, she has lost to much weight and heroin withdrawal
is imminent'. That was all the instructions they needed.
He did
everything he could for you, professionally and personally. He held
you, kept you warm, and told you anything and everything that came
into his mind, to keep you awake, alert, and focused on something
besides heroin. He stayed with you around the clock for the first two
days and never out of ear shot for the next two weeks.
Doc didn't
require much sleep, with four hours a day he was fine. He took half
hour naps when he was tired. While his endurance amazed our staff,
the birth of a child and the tenacity for life, amazed Doc, no matter
how many times he witness them. That tenacity allowed you to live.
Except for gonorrhea, the other diseases were brought under control
without further damage."
Eve stopped sobbing, but tears
continued streaming down her face. "Doc hated the day when he
told me, 'You'll never have children'. I cried and he held me there
was nothing else he could do. It took two years for me to recover as
much as I ever would. I had a terrible time with heroin withdrawal as
well as regaining my body weight and strength.
After withdrawal,
Doc switched to topics intended to help me recover mentally. He said,
'You are the best adjusted addict I've ever seen'. He used the same
techniques on other addicts with good results and incorporated them
into to our new treatment program.
During my recovery I fell in
love with Doc. After hearing the stories of his life I could
understand why Doc was the way he was. I could accept all he was and
all he had done. Doc was a man of contradictions. He had a fantastic
memory, but he would forget names, dates, time, etc. He was strong
and very violent, but very gentle. He had great mental power, but he
couldn't see his own foibles. He had tolerance and compassion and at
the same time, no tolerance and he couldn't forgive. He gave a lot of
love and yet so much indifference.
Being an unwanted child has to
be the next thing to hell. I still can't imagine it, even after
hearing many stories. I always had the support of my family even when
I was an addict, they just wouldn't give me any more money to support
my habit.
They knew I would get help only when I decided to get
it. It was hard for them to do, but they had to let me fall, any
other course of action would only delay the time to recovery. Until I
made the decision they could only hope and pray I would some how
survive and recover. I understand now, I didn't then.
I knew I
could have their support any time I asked for it. You and Doc and
your siblings never had any support. I knew others suffered the same
fate, but when I saw the results up close and personal at the clinic,
Doc had to give me counseling every night after work. Less than a
third of them recovered and led normal lives. Their stories like
yours and Doc's contained a repeated thread, 'I wish I were
dead'.
When I no longer needed the services of the clinic, I moved
into Doc's apartment and worked with him. I learned his view of life
and death, of men and women, of pain and suffering, of money, power,
sex, education, and other topics. I witnessed his fierce loyalty to
our people and their loyalty to him. A mere hint by Doc was
immediately accomplished and Doc would do his best to satisfy any
suggestion they made.
Our people knew they could make mistakes, as
long as they were not mistakes of carelessness and so long as they
told someone so the mistake could be corrected as soon as possible.
Doc told them over and over, 'Don't make a second mistake after the
first by lying or hiding the first mistake, we might recover from the
first, but we can never recover from the second.'
Doc never made a
pass at me, not even in jest, but I could feel his emotion and took
the initiative. One afternoon when Doc went to the apartment for a
nap, I went with him and instead of going to my room went into his.
He looked at me, 'I want you Doc, I want to be your woman.'
'I
love you Eve.'
We embraced, undressed, had sex, and fell asleep in
each others arms very satisfied. I moved my things into our bedroom.
We were together most of the time, but I understood his need for
solitude and let him go off by himself when he needed it.
Doc
accused me of being a normal woman and I laughed. 'Women seem to know
what a man is feeling, wants, and needs and they think their man
knows what they feel, want, and need; when most men don't have a clue
to what their women are feeling. Men think they know what their women
want and are in oblivion about their needs.' But he countered his own
statement with, 'Men know women better than women know men.'
'I
agree, but I still feel that men know what their women feel,want, and
need.'
'That proves you're a normal woman.'
We had long
discussions and learned together, it helped me. I felt good about
myself for the first time and I wanted to share what I learned with
others. I told Doc and he made arrangements for us to talk to any
group who wanted to learn more about sex education, health, or heroin
addiction. Doc was an advocate for sex education in the high schools
and sexual counseling by doctors. Very few did either at that
time.
During a presentation, a minister questioned Doc's position
on sex education saying, 'People shouldn't have sex for pleasure, sex
was ordained by God for procreation and teaching sex would encourage
young people to have sex out of wedlock.'
'We don't encourage
young people to have sex out of wedlock, but if they do we want them
to have sex without having babies or transmitting disease.
Your
last statement is stupid, it's equivalent to saying, "I know
about disease so I will go get sick, or I know how to splint a leg so
I will break my leg, or better yet, I'm a diabetic and I learn about
the effects of sugar so I eat sugar."
How stupid can you
get.
Knowledge can't prevent anything until a person knows and
then acts on the knowledge they have. Stupid people will not or can
not learn from the mistakes of others, they have to make every
mistake for themselves.
Knowledge discourages premature sex rather
than encouraging it, schools with good sex education programs have
fewer unwed mothers and lower VD rates.
How many children do you
have?'
'I have six.'
'How often did you have sex with your wife
after you knew she was pregnant?' He hemmed and hawed and became
flustered, obviously he didn't want to answer the question. 'You have
answer my question.
Why did you have sex with your wife after you
knew she was pregnant, obviously it wasn't for procreation and you
knew it.' The minister gave some very weak answers such as 'I forgot
or she wanted me.'
'Let me tell you why you had sex with your wife
when you knew she was pregnant. People have sex to renew and
reinforce pair bonds as well as to have children. This is one of the
emotional ties we try to explain to high school students. You cannot
have sex without forming a bond with the other person and the more
you have sex with the same person the stronger the old bonds become
as you add a new one.
If you break these bonds for any reason you
will go through all the symptoms of grief, the severity will be
determined by the strength of the bonds broken. If you wait to have
sex until you are married the bonds will be even stronger than if you
had sex before marriage and even stronger if you are virgin when you
are married.
You can't have causal sex and walk away scot free.
You may think you can, but it doesn't work that way. You will form a
bond even with a prostitute. When those bonds are broken it will play
games with your mind, there is no such thing as a free lunch, you
will pay a price in some manner, plus the risk of disease and
unwanted children. Risk taking effects the mind, you will not be the
same person after you take risks.
Having sex will not make you an
adult, you become an adult by taking responsibility for your actions.
There is no such thing as men's work or woman's work, each person has
different capabilities, take advantage of those capabilities. An
adult does what has to be done, anything less is childish.'
Doc
warned young women, 'Don't become pregnant to get a husband, to get
away from home, or that other famous excuse, so you can have some one
who will love you. Stop and think. What kind of a home you will be
creating. Odds are it will be worse than the one you are in and you
will have responsibilities you can't handle. Every baby is an
independent person and they will choose who they will love. If you
don't want them and don't take care of them they will not love you.
Being an unwanted child is worse than death.
Parents, give your
children reasons for not doing something besides saying its a sin or
I'll knock your head in. You don't have to explain the details of
sex, but you do need to give them reasons why they should wait. Tell
your children about the changes in their bodies and how to take care
of their bodies. If you can't do it then support your school and have
the school do it. To promote the idea that anything normal is a sin,
immoral, or dirty is about the most stupid thing you can do.'
I
enjoyed those presentations very much, but that's enough for
now."
They turned to personal jokes, funny only to them, and
began to laugh. Another step in the grief process had been reached,
now they could talk about Doc without crying. Some times they did
cry, but they didn't need to cry. They were sad for a long time and
Eve had difficulty with loneliness, but they didn't need to cry any
more.
Return to Doc Table of Content
Eve and Joe turned to stories about
Doc's parents, they began with his father. He was born to two Irish
immigrants and he was to young to enter the first world war. He
managed to become an office boy in a growing ladies apparel company.
He talked his way into being an elevator operator, there he could
talk to the salesmen. He convinced one to let him be his
assistant.
He carried extra display cases and brought additional
ones as needed, the salesman could show the client more items without
interrupting his sales pitch. He helped unload the display cases from
the baggage car and stored them in the depot freight room while the
salesman rented a horse and carriage. He loaded, drove, and unloaded
the carriage. He made the salesman's itinerary, he made all the
appointments and wrote all the letters.
After he learned all of
the salesman's customers, he called on the customers by himself when
ever the opportunity presented itself, which was often because the
salesman liked to drink, talk, and eat and he encouraged all three.
He gave small gifts to the secretaries and receptionists. He gave the
station masters silk stockings for their wives. Soon these people
were doing him small favors.
He brought some merchandise with him
and left it in the station freight room. When the salesman stopped
for a drink after making a call, he returned to the depot, pick up
any items on the order he had brought with him and delivered them to
the customer. Needless to say he made friends very rapidly.
Within
a year he replaced the salesman. His sales grew and soon he was the
best salesman in the company. With his increased commissions he
bought an automobile. He was one of the first salesmen to use a car.
There were several advantages and he made the most of them.
First,
he wasn't dependent upon train schedules; second, he could impress
his clients by taking them for a ride; third, he packed the back seat
and trunk with merchandise and filled the customers order as much as
possible as soon as he completed the sale; and fourth it fed his
ego.
There were disadvantages also, poor roads, frequent break
downs, and getting lost. He didn't mind two of the disadvantages, he
became a good mechanic, and he enjoyed getting lost, he was always
taking short cuts. He didn't like the poor roads, he didn't like
anything to slow him down.
One time when he was lost, driving on
an isolated stretch of road, he rounded a curve and saw a woman
walking on the left side of the road. He slowed to a snails pace and
watched her as the distance between them decreased. Something about
her attracted him. He debated with himself, "What was the
attraction? Was it her slender silhouette or was it the sway of her
skirt or the roll of her hips as she walked?" He couldn't decide
and surprised himself with, "That's my wife and I haven't seen
her face."
She stopped as he pulled along side her and a
ravishingly beautiful young woman turned toward him. He slammed on
the brakes. She flushed with excitement as she looked at this
handsome young man in the big brand new car. She had never rode in a
car and she was easily persuaded to show him the way to the next
town. She was not a virgin when they arrived and she would never
return home.
After a few miles, "It's to hot to drive, I need
to cool off." He pulled off the road next to a small creek. He
always carried food, drink, and blankets. She wasn't hungry or
thirsty and he was not making time with her as well as he wanted. He
switched to the sure fire method of getting a woman's attention.
"I'll give you a pair of silk stockings if you will let me put
them on."
She didn't like the condition, but she wanted the
stockings. She had never had any store bought clothing except for
shoes. She was excited and couldn't wait for him to return from the
car. She sat on the blanket with her hands behind her leaning back on
her arms with her feet bare and her skirt pulled up over her
knees.
He sat down on her left side and put her right stocking on
first, she raised her leg slightly. She didn't know how far up her
leg the stockings would go and was uncomfortable when his hands
finally stopped, but at the same time she was very excited and
couldn't wait until he put the other one on. She urged him to hurry
as she lower her right leg and raised the left one.
He took his
time and slid his hands slowly up her leg. He didn't stop until his
right hand went all the way to her crotch. He went out of control
when he discovered she wasn't wearing underwear. He pushed her down,
lifted her dress up over her hips, roller her over, lifted the back
of her dress over her hips, rolled her back, and pushed her legs
apart.
For some reason she couldn't resist, she couldn't even say
no. She was in a trance, it was as if nothing was happening. She
didn't want to watch him undress and turned her head. The next thing
she could remember, he was on her, in her, and kissing her
passionately. She was overwhelmed by his passion, but was rather non
plused by the rest of the affair.
Instinctively, she wrapped her
legs around him, making it easy for him to enter. He moved very
rapidly, almost violently and didn't stop until he was completely
exhausted. He lay on her until he was breathing normally, then rolled
over keeping her in his arms. "I love you, I want to marry you."
He promised her new clothes, a big house, and anything else she
wanted. They talked about themselves and their families.
Slowly
her brain caught up with the events that had just taken place, "Why
did you roll me over and raise my dress up on the back side." He
hesitated, "So it wouldn't be spotted."
"Then you
have done this before with other women." His face turned red and
he was every slow to answer. "Yes, many times, but I swear to
you, you will be the only woman for me from now on." He dressed,
they picked up his belongings, returned to the car, and drove on.
He
stopped twice before they reached the next town. He couldn't keep his
hands off her, he wanted to touch her every time she was near. She
encouraged him by staying close, bumping him, and pressing her body
against him at every opportunity. She reached orgasm the second time
and she wanted that feeling again. She knew women want children, she
wanted children, now she knew why women wanted sex.
They checked
into a hotel in the next town and only left their room to eat. They
were married several days later. He gave her everything he promised
and more. He was very attentive, tender, and gentle with her the
first years of their marriage.
She finally wrote a note to her
parents telling them all that happened, well not all. "Please
forgive me, I'm happily married, in love, and in good health. I don't
know when I will be home again because of my husband's busy
schedule."
Her parents never forgave her, they never spoke
her name again. Later they wrote to their grandchildren, but not to
her.
It was the roaring twenties and he introduced her to alcohol,
cigarettes, and parties. She quickly adopted her husband's life style
after the frugal life on the farm. They spent their entire income on
houses, booze, clothes, furniture, jewelry, cars, and lavish parties.
They loved the good life and did anything to keep it, they became
materialistic whores.
He moved up the corporate ladder, he
received new titles, the biggest clients, and she did what ever was
necessary to help him. She was an excellent hostess, she invited all
the right people, and did anything to please them. She became the
mistress of the marketing vice president when she thought her husband
had a chance to take his place after the president retired and he
became president.
When she became pregnant, it was a rude shock,
it put a temporary stop to the high life. He became very sullen and
angry when he could not have sex when he wanted it because she didn't
feel like it. She was sure he was having affairs whenever he was out
of town. She hired a nanny and went with him when she could and made
the best of it when she couldn't. They adjusted as well as they could
which was not very well.
When she was pregnant with Doc, he would
get drunk and beat her stomach when she refused to have sex with him.
Doc thought one of those blows caused his abnormal stature. After Doc
was born, she aborted all the rest of her pregnancies.
They
ignored their children except when they could be used to their
advantage, such as performing for their guests. At five, Doc could
recite poetry, the Gettysburg address, or the like. His brother
played the violin before and his sister played the piano after and
Doc always received a standing ovation, of course, the audience was
family, friends, and guests. At nine, he could multiply two six digit
numbers in less than a minute without using pencil and paper. By
twelve, he could memorize prodigious quantities of written
material.
He fell asleep in the library stacks, heavy heels on the
hardwood floors woke him, he grabbed a book and read five pages in
less than a minute. This librarian didn't like children loitering in
the stacks, let alone the technical stacks. When she rounded the
corner and saw him, she asked sternly, "What are you doing here
young man?"
"Reading."
"I'll bet."
Taking the book from his hands, "Tell me what you just
read."
Doc quoted verbatim the five pages. She nearly
fainted, "Do you understand what you read?" Fortunately, he
did understand some of what he read. It was a book on surgical
procedures and that reading sparked his interest in medicine. He read
every book in the library on medicine, anatomy, zoology, biology,
diseases, etc. That same librarian helped him get permission to use
the university library, after he read all the books on those topics
in the city library.
When Doc was six, his mother agreed to go
with the vice president to his country retreat for a week. She had
morning sickness the next day. He liked to have breakfast in bed as
he called it and it was obvious she had no interest in him, even
thought she went through the motions in the afternoon and
evening.
"I've had it," he told her, "and I've just
remembered something I have to do."
"I'm sorry, I didn't
know I was pregnant."
They returned to the city to the
beginning of the end of the family fortunes. The vice president
walked in unannounced. The telephone operator desperately tried to
ring his office, but for some reason the jack wouldn't slide into the
hole, she became frantic, but she didn't know what to do.
The vice
president thought it odd that his secretary was not at her desk and
even more odd that the door to his office was locked. What a surprise
to all concerned when he unlocked his door and walked into his
office. His father and the secretary were making so much noise they
didn't hear him until he was standing over them along side the couch
yelling, "You're both fired."
His secretary did more
than take dictation and he didn't want to share her with anyone else.
He sat at his desk and watched them dress. He wasn't going to leave
and they didn't want to walk out naked. He didn't give them a chance
to remove their personal belongings from their desks, he called the
janitor and had him empty their desks into a box and put it on the
street.
His father got another sales job, but at half his previous
salary. All his customers were in the city which was very convenient,
they could entertain them at their large home. If a customer brought
his wife, he entertained the wife and she entertained the customer.
If a customer came alone, he left the room on some pretext and she
entertained the customer.
They blackmailed a buyer for a large
department store, he attended all of their parties, but he wouldn't
give him an appointment. One night the buyer drank more than usual.
They gave more to drink until he was drunk and had him carried to a
bedroom.
After the other guests left, they undressed him and put
him to bed. She got up early and had breakfast in his room to make
sure he didn't wake before she was ready. She took his clothes and
placed them on the floor, one piece every step from the door to the
bed. When the buyer began to stir, she quickly removed her clothes,
placed one piece next to his on the floor, and climbed into bed.
When
the buyer rolled onto his side, she snuggled up tight against his
back and wrapped her arms around him. A few moments later, the buyer
woke with a start, threw her arms off of him and sat up. He looked at
the clothes on the floor, "Did I do anything last night?"
She replied in a coy tone, "You sure did and I can't wait to
compare notes with your wife."
"No, no, no, no, I will
do anything you want, but don't tell anyone about last night. Don't
tell anyone."
"We don't want any thing, we just want to
be friends and being good friends we will do as you ask and won't
tell anyone about last night."
He received an appointment the
next day and a very large order. He got a large order every time he
called. They didn't change their life style and it was only a matter
of time before they went bankrupt and were forced to change, even
with the large orders they weaseled out of his customers one way or
another.
They sold all their property and bought a smaller house.
After another sexual indiscretion, he was fired again. This pattern
continued and with each new job came a reduction in income, a change
in their life style, a furniture sale, a smaller home, more drinking,
and more fighting between them. They ignored their children even more
if that was possible.
When Doc was nine, he and several other
children were playing hide and seek in their church after dark, while
their parents were attending a meeting in the basement. Doc was
hiding behind the pulpit when he heard a woman, "Hurry honey we
don't have much time."
"I'm hurrying as fast as I
can."
It was his father. Doc could only see shadows as they
moved behind the alter. They made odd statements to each other which
Doc didn't understand. They stopped talking and Doc heard the
repeated slap of flesh against flesh, followed by her 'uh'. Slowly
and quietly, Doc crawled to the end of the aisle and up the stairs to
the choir loft.
Half way up, he heard the same sounds plus very
heavy breathing. As he crawled backward down the stairs, he heard a
man, "We must join the others," and his mother, "Come
on, one more time." Doc ran into the anteroom and met the other
children. "We left when the adults came."
Before Doc
could ask them what was going on the meeting down stairs broke up and
the parents called their children. He went outside to wait for his
parents, his father was one of the last to leave.
"Where's
mother?"
"She has another meeting and will come home
later."
These two events on the same night disturbed Doc and
even more so when several years later he understood, but he couldn't
understand why he was disturbed.
When Doc was twelve, his family
was living in a three room third floor walk up in the slums. Everyone
slept in one room, the parents in the bed and the children on mats on
the floor. His father couldn't hold a job for more than a month. Both
parents were alcoholics. They didn't eat much, but they always had a
bottle and they were always fighting. The children did what they
could to put food on the table. Doc sold newspapers after school and
cleaned offices at night.
His mother wouldn't have sex with his
father, but she would have sex with any man who brought a bottle and
she didn't care if the children were home. Their presence didn't
inhibit her or the men, they continued as if they were alone as long
as they had a bottle.
The children left if they could, they were
to embarrassed to stay, they only came home to eat and sleep. When
one was to sick to leave, they watched or listened from behind paper
thin doors and walls and told the others what happened.
His father
brought men home to have his mother. He introduced them very formally
to his wife, he put a bottle on the kitchen table, pushed the kids
into the hallway, "Don't go in until he comes out," and
left to find a woman with the man's money.
Doc went to the library
if it was open or he found a place to read, in the hallway, on the
steps outside, on the roof, in the train station, anywhere. He didn't
know where his brother and sister went. After a couple of hours he
returned home hoping the man had left.
Many times he found his
brother and sister sitting at the top of the stairs. Doc would go the
door and listen. If the apartment was quiet, he entered, his brother
and sister followed. Together they dragged them out of bed, dressed
them, and sat them at the kitchen table, then they went to bed.
Most
of the time they were to drunk to resist. Unfortunately, sometimes
they weren't and a real free for all ensued. The children usually won
by offering them another drink. If that didn't work the children left
and walked around the block. The whole event was so embarrassing and
unnerving that most men left as soon as they could walk, yelling,
"I've never been treated so poorly. I'll never come back."
It
was a sorry mess, but the children didn't know what else to do. What
child would tell the authorities their story. Besides similar events
were taking place in some of the other apartments.
When his father
couldn't get sex from another woman, he returned and fondled his
sister. If she resisted, which she did most of the time, he beat her.
Over the next six months, he progressed to fondling plus undressing
her to fondling, undressing, and raping her. He beat her before he
wanted sex to reduce her resistance when he was ready.
If Doc or
his brother interfered, he beat them. Depending on his mood, he beat
all of them before he raped her. Most of the time he waited until the
brothers left or he pushed them out the door and locked it. When he
finished, he left to get drunk, then Doc stopped the bleeding noses,
bandaged the cuts and scrapes, and put ice on the swellings. His
sister nick named him 'Doc' and he was never again called by any
other name.
Doc carried his newspapers in a newspaper bag, the
other boys carried their papers under their arms. Doc kept his
medical supplies in a small draw string bag. He put it and his
library books in the bottom of the newspaper bag. He carried the
newspaper bag everywhere, even to bed, for two reasons. First, to
prevent his father from throwing out his medical supplies and library
books and second, so they were always available.
Doc added new
items to his medical bag as a new need arose and after he learned how
to use them. He replaced his library books as often as he could. His
father didn't touch the newspaper bag, he knew Doc would bring him a
bottle as long as Doc was able to sell newspapers. The other children
were not as dependable as Doc, so he left Doc's newspaper bag alone.
Also, Doc always handed him a bottle as soon as he came home so his
father wouldn't have a reason to get into his newspaper bag.
It
became a nightly ritual, when their father came home, to offer him a
drink and then another until he passed out, so he was incapable of
inflicting any more harm. The ritual continued until Doc's last
summer at grandparents farm. While Doc was at the farm, his brother
finally convinced his sister, "I have to leave or I will kill my
father. You had better come with me."
"I can't leave
Doc."
"We'll send a letter to Doc and meet him at the
station."
No one met Doc, he didn't expect anyone because he
came home three days early, they didn't receive his letter and he
didn't receive their's. He got off the train and walked home. When he
arrived, the door was open and the rooms were empty. He asked the
neighbors and each told a different part of the story. His parents
came home drunk as usual and fought at the top of the first flight of
stairs. She lost her balance and he tried to catch her, but lost his
balance and instead of preventing her from falling, he fell into her,
pushing her faster. She landed on the third step from the bottom and
he rolled all the way to the bottom, over her to the wall. She was
dead before the first floor residents could reach her. He recovered
and listened to the residents tell him, "She's dead and you
killed her." He got up and pushed through the crowd, never to be
seen again.
His family didn't keep records, so no one knew how to
get in touch with the other family members, many years later, Doc
located his brother and sister. Doc didn't know what to do, he paced
the floor until he was hungry, went and got something to eat and
returned. When night came, he lay on the floor. He cried, he didn't
know why. It was a relief to be free of his parents, he certainly
didn't have any respect for them and he wasn't sure he loved them,
but still he cried. He didn't cry long, he suddenly felt very tired
and fell asleep, his grief for his parents lasted less than a
month.
The noise of another family moving in woke him after a very
restless night, obviously, he couldn't stay in the apartment. He
returned to his old jobs of selling newspapers after school and
cleaning offices at night. He faked leaving and hid until the rest of
the cleaning staff left and found a place to sleep. He bought an
alarm clock so he could sleep longer and still leave before the
office workers arrived.
Weekends were more difficult, he slept in
unlocked cars or trucks.
The weather was turning colder and he
knew he had to find away to stay warm on the weekends. He went to the
library when he was not working, partly to read and partly to keep
warm. Doc read the want adds every day, one reappeared several times,
'Wanted a man to work in a warehouse on Saturday.' The owner of a
small pharmaceutical warehouse was unwilling and unable to pay very
much.
Doc got the job when the owner learned that Doc could read
and pronounce all the labels in the warehouse and was willing to work
in exchange for a place to sleep. "You can start Saturday."
Doc walked away feeling very relieved. On Saturday, the owner told
him, "Your job is to help me unload any freight cars, load any
trucks not finished on Friday or that came in on Saturday and to keep
the stove going during the weekend."
The loading dock was
empty so the owner showed Doc how to make out the paper work for each
transaction. The owner was amazed at how fast Doc learned. When he
was finished with the paperwork lesson, he walked Doc through the
warehouse. On the way back to the office, Doc told him, "You
have many duplications in the warehouse."
"That can't
be." Doc told him the total inventory. The owner stared at
him.
"Get your inventory sheet and I will show you."
When
the inventory records didn't agree with Doc, they took a physical
inventory. Doc walked directly to the item while the owner checked
each stack until he found the item. When the count agreed with the
inventory records, Doc took him to one or more stacks of the same
item at different locations and the new total agreed with Doc's
count. When the count disagreed with the inventory records, it did
agree with Doc's count. The owner was flabbergasted, Doc was right
every time.
Before he could recover, "I'll put all like items
together and update the inventory records. The owner went back to the
office and Doc didn't see him the rest of the day. Doc was oblivious
to time, when he thought he had done a days work, he stopped and
walked back to the office. On the desk was a note, 'The little room
behind the office is yours. The two keys on the desk are for the
padlocks on the door and the fence gate. I will see you Monday
morning at seven.'
Doc checked the gate and all the doors. He
locked the open ones and turned off the lights except for the little
room and the front entrance. In the little room, he found an old cot
with a thin mattress, a sheet, and a wool blanket. He made his bed
and used his newspaper bag filled with packing material as a pillow.
He ate the food he brought, went to bed, and slept. He slept until
past noon, the first good sleep since he returned from the farm, he
felt good. He got something to eat, returned, finished rearranging
the inventory, and slept until the warehouse men came the next
morning. They were standing in the entryway drinking coffee, waiting
for the owner when Doc came out and introduced himself.
"I
rearranged the warehouse to save steps. If you like the arrangement,
I will make more changes, if not I'll rearrange it until you do. See
you next Friday before you leave." Doc left as the owner came,
they said, 'Hi and good bye'.
Doc rearranged the warehouse, the
work, and the office procedures, sometimes without the others
realizing a change had been made. The owner prospered and the workers
got small raises. Doc worked at the warehouse for seven years.
Doc
arrived at the warehouse before the men left on Friday. The foreman
understood what Doc had tried to do and suggested some changes of his
own. None of the workers could read or write. The owner told them
about Doc's inventory count and it was standard procedure for them to
test Doc's abilities. Doc liked to show off and he did it in a way
that didn't offend anyone, it was like a joke everyone enjoyed. After
the men left, Doc walked into the little room, a locker and a pillow
had been added, he slept very well.
The front part of the
warehouse was heated to prevent the inventory from freezing. The
little room had two vents which let some heat in from the office,
keeping it somewhat warmer than the front part of the warehouse, it
was better than sleeping in unlock vehicles. The following week the
owner told him, "You can stay all week if you keep the stove
going, my night man quit, he found another job."
"I'll
be glad to." Doc quit the office cleaning job when the owner
gave him a small salary. He sold newspapers after school, bought
something to eat, and went to the warehouse before the men left. This
new arrangement raised Doc's spirits, so much so, he helped anyone
without thought of compensation.
While selling newspapers one day,
he heard a cab driver exclaim, "Why me, lady? Why my cab?"
Doc turn to see if he could help. A young woman was about to deliver.
"Is this your first one?" She hesitated until a contraction
let up, "No, my third." Doc timed the contraction, it was
long and strong and timed the interval between contractions. The next
one came very quickly and again it was long and strong. "We
don't have much time. Do you remember what we have to do?" She
nodded. "We'll help you," he looked at the cab driver who
shrugged his shoulders.
Doc spread his unsold newspapers in the
gutter and put his medical bag on the front seat. He removed
scissors, a towel, and a small rubber sheet from his medical bag. He
put the scissors in his shirt pocket, the towel over his shoulder,
and spread the rubber sheet on the edge of the back seat and let the
rest fall to the newspapers.
He told her to remove her skirt and
underwear and sit on the rubber sheet and lie back. He opened the
back window all the way, place his folded newspaper bag in the
window, place one leg on the bag, and handed the other leg to the
cabby.
It was a textbook delivery, everything happened the way the
medical books depicted. He held the baby on one arm, cut the cord,
and let everything else fall to the newspapers. A woman brought some
water, he washed and dried the baby, the mother, himself, and the
rubber sheet. He rolled up the newspapers, threw them in a trash can,
put his things in the medical bag, and the medical bag into his
newspaper bag. After the cab left for the hospital to finish what he
couldn't, he went to the warehouse as if it was just another routine
day.
A small crowd gathered during the delivery, Doc didn't
notice, he was in another world. The cab driver never forgot Doc and
they met many times. Some of the people in the crowd didn't forget
either. They ask Doc to help with other deliveries and other medical
problems. Slowly at first and then more frequently. They asked him to
help with a delivery, to splint a broken limb, or to put stitches in
a bad cut, until he was averaging one or more a week. Some he
referred to the hospital or a doctor for further treatment. When they
asked, they would not believe a teen age boy had done the preliminary
work.
This was the first delivery for Doc, there would be so many
more he would lose count and the memory of them would fade, but he
marveled at the miracle of birth, each and every time. This was the
beginning of Doc's career, another chapter closed and another began.
Return to Doc Table of Content
After Eve and Joe finished telling
private jokes about Doc, they retold the story about the minister
claiming sex was just for procreation. Joe was in the audience and
had a better view of both men than Eve, who was at the speakers table
with Doc. The look on the minister's face as Doc backed him into an
untenable position was something to see, but the look on Doc's face
was something else. You would have thought he had just saved the
Titanic from sinking. Joe couldn't help himself, he burst out
laughing. Doc's facial expression and his body language were so out
of character that it was humorous to Joe. Obviously the rest of the
audience couldn't understand the humor that Joe could and they turned
toward him with disdain. Eve knew when Joe began to laugh that the
source was Doc and not the minister, she turned immediately to Doc
and had to use every ounce of strength to keep from laughing also.
Now they both laughed.
There were humorous events through out
Doc's life, like everyone else, but they were few in number and most
occurred during his school years. The rest of Doc's childhood was
pretty sad. They turned to stories about Doc's school days.
One
day his regular teacher was absent and a substitute didn't follow the
regular teacher's instructions. He told the class to read the section
on the constitution of the United States. As he walked around the
classroom, he noticed Doc was reading a different book. He went up to
Doc, "Why aren't you reading the textbook?" The other
students knew Doc was receiving special consideration and they turned
to see what would happen.
"I read it once and I don't need to
read it again."
"OK, wise guy, recite the constitution
of the United States."
"Do you want the preamble, too?"
The substitute was losing his temper, but he restrained himself and
said calmly, "Yes."
"And you will not interrupt me
and will let me finish?"
"Yes," this time with
anger as he walked back to the teacher's desk.
Everyone in the
room followed in the book as Doc spoke. He spoke rapidly and without
error. When he was halfway through the substitute stopped him, but
the students said almost in unison, "You said you would let him
finish." He had no choice, but to let Doc finish. When he did
the class let out a cheer and went out of control.
Lunch hour
saved the substitute from further embarrassment. After lunch the
substitute walked up and down the classroom trying to regain control
and repeated his first mistake, he challenged Doc, "I'll bet
that is all you can recite." He no sooner had the words out of
his mouth and the room was silent.
"Would you like the
Lincoln - Douglas debate?" The class said, "No, that's to
boring." The substitute opened his mouth, but Doc began the
ballads, 'The Shooting of Dan McGrew and the Cremation of Sam McGee'.
At the end of each the students let out a roar.
Doc was now in
charge of the class and the substitute knew it. He walked back to the
teacher's desk and listened and before Doc finished the first ballad,
he was enjoying the performance as well. When Doc finished the second
ballad, he suggested, "Let's sing songs the rest of the day."
The substitute had a fine voice and led them in many songs, they
joined with enthusiasm. With each song the volume increased, so much
so the principle was outside the classroom door when the students
came pouring out. He stopped one of them, "What was going on in
there?"
"The best day I have ever had in school,"
and the student ran down the hall.
After Doc had settled into the
warehouse he changed his routine. The warehouse was on one side of
the slums and where he sold papers was on the other side and where he
went to school was even further away, he changed schools. It was in
the middle of the slums. He didn't use his real name, that was one
reason his brother and sister couldn't find him, although they didn't
think of the obvious way to find him.
Doc didn't learn much at
school, he already knew more than the teachers, but Doc liked school,
if for no other reason than it gave him access to another library.
Many times Doc said, "You can always learn something from
anyone, anywhere, anytime if you want to, the student has to want to
learn, a teacher cannot teach, a teacher facilitates learning. You
can lead a horse to a book, but you can't make him read."
Doc
talked with each of his teachers before the beginning of the school
year and got them to agree not to ask him questions in class and not
to tell or display any of his work or his grades and he would not
correct their errors in front of the class or disrupt the class by
displaying his abilities. Every teacher agreed after only one
meeting. If he needed to he displayed his skills to the teacher, but
most of the time the teachers had talked to one another and they were
more than willing to ignore Doc while he was in their classroom.
Not
only that, they were glad to have Doc in their classroom. If a
student was goofing off or talking when they shouldn't, Doc gave the
student, 'the evil eye', as some students would say and order
returned to the classroom. After two weeks the attitude of a
classroom changed the instant Doc walked in. The teachers thought it
was funny, they told stories to one another and laughed about how
different the students behaved when Doc walked into their rooms.
Sometimes a teacher had to turn to the blackboard to prevent the
students from seeing the look on their face.
Doc sat in the back
of the room and said very little. He was friendly to his classmates,
but he didn't try to make friends. He was like the man who was not
there. The other students eventually learned he was the smartest kid
in school, his name was always at the top of the honor roll.
When
Doc first came to this school there were many fights. Doc didn't like
fights, he avoided them and he stopped others from fighting. The
others learned very quickly not to mess with him, some always have to
learn the hard way. Also, they learned not to threaten Doc because he
would call their bluff right then and there, he never waited until
later. Doc told them, "Stop or you will get hurt," and if
they didn't, they did.
Fights with Doc ended quickly, with the
other person disabled, even if they had a knife or a club or if there
was more than one. When Doc fought, he fought to win, he didn't fight
for the fun of it like some men do and he never gave an opponent a
second chance. One mistake and it was over and his opponent had more
than a bruise to remind him of his mistake.
Some boys were picking
on a smaller boy in the shower by pointing at him and laughing. They
were making fun of his small penis. Doc brought them up short, "If
you dunces knew anything about female anatomy you would know the size
of your penis does not matter unless it is to short to deposit sperm
in her vagina.
Besides, you dummies, have you not noticed your own
penis and scrotum shrink when you are cold and elongate when you are
hot. Your body is conserving or eliminating heat and at the same time
protecting your sperm from to much heat." Doc finished his
shower in silence much to the consternation of the others and the
gratitude of the small boy.
By actions such as this, Doc gathered
a very loyal following of those he had protected, he considered them
to be his friends. If you were his friend you automatically received
his protection if he thought you needed it. This pattern continued
through out Doc's life. These people would do anything for Doc,
anything.
They knew Doc would risk his life against all odds to
protect them and they reciprocated. They learned to listen carefully
and to ignore his venom when Doc was on the attack because when Doc
was mad his brain was working at its best. Problems he was unable to
solve during more peaceful moments for some reason he could solve in
an instant during those outbursts of anger. Unfortunately, the
bitterness of his words and the violence of the attack created many
enemies.
A few days later Doc was sitting with a group of boys in
the gym bleachers waiting for the class period to end. It was a habit
for them to sit and talk after taking their showers. Usually, Doc
didn't pay attention to what they said, but one sentence caught his
attention, "You have to talk girls into having sex." It
agitated him so much he had to say something. "The trouble with
you guys is you're all virgins and you don't know what you're talking
about. You are just repeating a bunch of junk you have heard from
others."
Doc stood and walked down the bleachers, as he did
so it crossed his mind what was going on. This was how men gained
information from other men, men rarely asked direct questions of one
another. They joshed and bantered around until the information they
wanted came out. As Doc reached the floor one of the boys broke with
tradition, "So tell us, Doc."
Doc turned back toward
them, "When women want sex they want it more than you do, but it
is also the time they are most likely to become pregnant. Women want
sex, they want a baby, but not with out a husband. A husband may not
do much, but a woman needs all the help she can get to raise a child.
She wants someone who will stay with her. How would you feel if after
the baby was born, she came up to you and dumped it in your lap and
walked away. What would you do? Think about it, what would you do? So
stop trying to have sex before you're married."
Doc walked
away before they could respond. Doc sat in a different place in the
bleachers each day thereafter and sure enough that is where the other
boys sat. Now, Doc was certain, the other boys made outlandish
remarks on purpose. They were deliberately trying to get Doc to tell
them about sex. They wanted to know what he knew that they
didn't.
This and other similar events convinced Doc that our
schools were not teaching students what they wanted to know at the
time they were willing to learn. Doc realized that our
Puritan-Victorian Judeo-Christian heritage had a lot to do with the
situation. Doc would rant and rave for hours over the shear stupidity
of that heritage. So much guilt, so much misinformation and a
perverted life style. Especially the knowledge and attitudes towards
sex.
Where he wondered, did men ever get the idea that sex was
their right. Surely, the wise men of the ages had observed the sexual
pattern of all animals including man. Yet, Doc couldn't find one
reference in all the books he read that put the male sex role in its
true position. It was obvious to Doc, why not to everyone, he
couldn't understand it.
Doc was completely intolerant of
ignorance, even his own, he detested ignorance. Yet, he was very
tolerant of ignorance in his people, he continually tried to teach
them, but he was completely intolerant of ignorance in anyone
else.
He would say every now and then, "I can understand that
people cannot understand what I cannot understand, and I can
understand that people can understand what I can't understand, but I
can't understand why people can't understand what I understand, it's
to simple."
Between what Doc had read and his own
observations on the farm and of his women friends and of the women he
had helped, Doc came to the conclusion that the male sex role was to
deliver sperm to the female when SHE wanted it.
He couldn't
understand why every man with half an once of brains had not come to
the same conclusion. Where in hell did men ever get the idea that sex
was their right and that they could demand it. Sex was a man's
responsibility, not a right.
Most men will not do what a women
does not want, so instinctively they do treat sex as a
responsibility, why Doc wondered, can't men transfer that instinctive
knowledge to their rationale.
Doc was well aware of the male
problem. In all other species there was some kind of cue to tell them
when their females wanted their services and they would respect the
females wishes when they no longer needed their services. Without a
cue, men have only two options, first, to wait for a woman to ask for
sex in some manner, which most women are abhorrent to do as a
conscious act, or second, to test women in some manner to see if they
were ready. Because females are cyclic and because men have no cue,
the male must be ready all the time or at least be ready on very
short notice. Our species would not have survived if this was not the
case.
Doc thoroughly understood the male frustration of being
ready for sex all the time and being stimulated by every move a woman
makes, any women when a man is young, but still a man must respect a
woman's needs and rights. A man wants sex when he wants it, why can't
a woman have sex when she wants it.
Thank God women are willing to
have sex more than once a month, what a bunch of frustrated men we
would be if that were not the case.
The thing that puzzled Doc the
most about sex was the fact that women raise men, women teach men,
and women live with men, why don't they teach men some where along
the line the needs of a women. He was aware of the socialization
effects on women and the effects of our stupid heritage on both men
and women, but still he couldn't understand why women didn't teach
men about women. He knew that men and women do not communicate very
well and that men didn't listen to women very well, but still through
the ages the message should've been delivered. He just couldn't
understand it.
Another thing Doc couldn't understand, was how
little women knew about men. A man was the most important thing in a
woman's life and yet she knew nothing about this creature. After all
these years, why hadn't at least one woman understood and passed it
on to her daughters.
From his own observations and conversations
with both sexes, Doc was positive that men knew more about women than
women knew about men. In almost all interactions with men, women were
responding instinctively, very few women were consciously aware of
what they were doing and why they were doing it. Where as men, in at
least some situations, were very much aware of what they were doing.
They were not relying on instinct alone, they were using all of their
resources, mainly in their attempt to get sex from women.
When
long term interactions are considered the roles were reversed, men
didn't even know the name of the game. Women knew they wanted a
husband and a family and they spent hours thinking and planning for
it. Men seldom thought about a wife and family until they were much
older. They rarely thought about a woman as a potential wife, they
thought about her as a sex partner.
When Doc was an under grad,
the university sponsored a panel discussion on 'The Monkey Trial
Revisited'. Several speakers from each side of the topic were invited
to speak and afterward the audience was invited to ask questions or
to contribute to the discussion. Doc thought most of what was said
was inane.
When one speaker said, "We are not the descendants
of monkeys," he had to correct that statement, he stood, "The
theory of evolution does not say we descended from monkeys, our
analysis using the theory indicates that monkeys and humans have a
common ancestor.
If anyone has any doubts, take a close look at
me." Doc raised one arm as if he were holding on to a branch and
scratched his ribs with his other hand, the students laughed.
"I've
read Darwin's works and the works of others on the subject and the
theory of evolution does not violate anything said in the Bible. The
theory just explains what happened between the time God spit in the
dust and the time Adam was created. The speakers for the creation
side responded with various quotes from the Bible and one said,
"Evolution could not have happened in four thousand years."
Doc
responded instantly, "The four thousand years is a stupid
number, calculated by a stupid jerk, based on stupid assumptions
about statements written long ago that can not be verified."
One
of the speakers said, "How can you doubt the word of
God."
"Who's God yours or mine?"
"There's
only one God, the God of the Bible."
"Which
Bible?"
"There is only one Bible." Doc proceeded to
name some of the others and was interrupted by another speaker. "I
have studied the Bible all my life, there is only one version, the
King James version."
"By using the word version you are
admitting there is more than one and if there is more than one
version then there is more than one God or else none of the versions
are true or one of them is true and the rest are false. If the latter
is the case, then how do we know which one is true?"
Another
speaker changed the subject. "Have you ever read the Bible?"
"I
have read all the versions I mentioned, once," and the students
in the audience roared with laughter for ten minutes before the
discussion could continue. The other people didn't understand why the
students laughed, but they soon found out. As each speaker quoted
from the Bible in an attempt to support their position by drawing
conclusions from the quote. Doc quoted the verses on each side of
their quote and pointed out that the conclusion could only be true if
they were willing to use the quote out of context or he quoted a
contradicting set of verses. The speakers thumbed through their
Bibles to check what Doc said.
It was obvious to many people and
to the moderator that some of the speakers were beginning to show
signs of shell shock or battle fatigue as two later generations would
have described it. There was no way they could keep up with Doc and
with each foray the students became more boisterous.
Finally, the
moderator stood, "We have run out of time. I would like to
thank, etc., etc." The students let out another roar, drowning
out the rest of his words and only stopped because after a while
everyone began to leave.
Two people attacked Doc verbally, the
students surrounding Doc slowly departed, not wanting to be present
when their attack turned physical. Suddenly, his attackers left, Doc
looked around and saw one of the speakers for the creation side
approaching.
"I apologize for those members of my
congregation. I've failed to teach them and they have failed to learn
to forgive anyone who disagrees with them in the quest for the truth.
I hope I'm successful before they injure someone because if they do,
the hounds of their hell will chase them forever.
Your comments
disturbed me greatly and I cannot accept your conclusions, but I will
pray for you. You will need God's protection on your journey for the
truth."
"Thank you."
The minister left Doc
standing in an empty auditorium thinking, "That's an odd comment
about the hounds of their hell," but some years later, Doc would
come to a similar conclusion.
One sunny afternoon a group of young
men were sitting around a tree watching the coeds walk by. Another
young man walked up to the group with a dejected look on his face.
Someone asked, "What's wrong."
"My girlfriend, the
stupid broad she went and got pregnant."
"That's a very
stupid statement and you are supposed to be an educated person. I
suppose you didn't have anything to do with it. She swam in the
ocean. Why did you call her stupid, you're the one who is stupid and
your statement proves it. Women are supposed to get pregnant, that's
their biological role. Good grief, you jerk."
He swung at
Doc. Doc caught his fist and squeezed, the pain brought him to his
knees and Doc let go. "Are you not man enough to be responsible
for your actions?" The young man was to ashamed to stay, he got
up and ran away.
Doc was thoroughly convinced that women were
smarter than ninety per cent of the men. He thought men and women
thought differently because their brains were different. There were
many differences between the sexes, they had different capabilities,
different strengths, different perspectives, different roles, why not
different brains. The most striking difference besides the different
physical characteristics, was sexual arousal. Men responded much more
strongly to visual stimuli and women to verbal and body heat.
The
day after the students were given a tour to introduce the students to
the hospital, their professor was showing them a routine case. As
they walked down the hall to visit another routine case, a young
woman was wheeled passed them into the elevator. As they passed the
nurse said to the Professor, "We have an emergency delivery and
no one else is available."
"Prep her and I'll be there
as soon as I can find some one to take these students. The professor
didn't notice that Doc was not with them as he continued down the
hall, he was in the elevator. The nurses didn't think anything about
it until he followed them into the delivery room.
"You're not
supposed to be here, you'd better leave." When he didn't, one
left to get someone to make him leave. Doc asked questions of the
other nurse like he had delivered babies all his life. The nurse,
stunned, followed his orders. Doc placed his hands on the young
woman's abdomen to feel the position of the baby. As he did, the
young woman changed from frighten to one who felt like she was in
good hands. The nurse was very much aware of the change and she
gained confidence in this imprudent young man. Doc timed her
contractions and checked her dilation. As he did she delivered. Doc
talked her through the delivery like a professional.
His professor
walked in as he was cleaning up. In a stern voice, "Young man,
go to my office right now and wait for me." Doc did and while he
waited he read everything in view. Doc had not had this professor for
any previous class and neither knew the other. The professor told him
in no uncertain terms he was not to do that, ever again. His voice
changed from stern to one of amazement, "Where did you learn how
to deliver a baby, the nurse told me, 'As far as I could tell he
followed all the proper procedures'."
"I read your book
six years ago and have been delivering babies ever since, in the
neighborhood."
The professor turned and pulled a book from
the shelf and before he could speak, Doc told him the page number,
the name of the chapter and began to quote it. It was a long chapter,
but he didn't stop Doc. The professor was stunned, like everyone else
who had seen Doc display his memory of written material, but he
didn't let it show. He was gifted himself and he had taught many
gifted students, but none like Doc. "Tell me, how did you know
she was going to deliver very soon?"
"I timed her
contractions when I first saw her in the hall and again in the
elevator."
"By the way, I checked mother and child and
they are both doing well. I filled out all the necessary papers and
as far as the records go, I delivered the child. But, tell me another
thing, the young mother said she felt a strange sensation when you
placed your hands on her. Can you explain that?"
"Maybe
it was my confidence coming through."
"When did you
deliver your first child?"
"I assisted when I was
fifteen in the back seat of a cab."
"Why did you use the
word assisted?"
"Well the women do all the work, we just
help unless something goes wrong then we go to work."
"What
are you planning to do with your degree?"
"I would like
to be a GP with emphasis on OB. I enjoy working with women." The
professor looked at Doc's hands. "You certainly have the hands
for it. Why don't you take the exams and graduate?"
"There
is always something to learn and it's a pleasure to work in a well
equipped environment."
"You know I will have to make a
complete report to the Dean don't you?" Doc nodded. "You
can go now." As Doc walked to the door, "Do the people in
the neighborhood call you Doc?"
"Yes."
Doc could
see a gleam in his eye and could feel a bond forming between them.
The professor had seen some of Doc's work. He made a full report to
the dean as soon as Doc left. The Dean was impressed and disturbed at
the same time. He was very impressed with Doc's memory after the
professor told him Doc not only quoted the whole chapter verbatim, he
also indicated the errors and typos and the changes made in
subsequent editions. He was disturbed by Doc's total disregard for
regulations and by the young woman's comment about the strange
sensations, something the Dean would hear about again.
"What
do we have here?" he asked the professor.
"I don't know,
but I would like to be his adviser."
"I will make the
necessary changes, but you keep him under control."
"I
don't think that's possible."
By the end of the first month
everyone knew Doc. Many had seen Doc's work and some of the hospital
staff lived in the neighborhood. They knew him or knew of him. When
Doc broke the rules, someone would cover for him. Officially, Doc
didn't get into any more trouble.
The following spring, a train
derailed and the hospital couldn't handle all the patients. The
professor told his students, "This is an emergency, you will
have to help." When they arrived at the receiving room, one
glance told Doc the ambulance drivers and the rescue workers were
sending the wrong people to the hospital.
The two men looked at
each other, both knew what the other was thinking. Doc grabbed two of
his fellow students by the arm and dragged them into an ambulance
before it returned. Doc didn't have to say anything, by the time they
reached the accident they realized why they were going. There was no
point in sending dead people to the hospital or those with minor
injuries, they could wait.
It was a long day and when they
finished at the scene of the accident, they rode back to the hospital
and helped with the minor injuries. That incident strengthen the bond
between him and his adviser. Doc knew what had to be done and did it.
His adviser liked that trait in anyone.
During a lecture on female
sexuality, based on Freud, Doc had had enough and got up and started
to walk out. The professor stopped in mid sentence, "Where do
you think you are going?"
"I've had enough, I don't
understand why the medical profession has adopted Freud without
questioning what he claims. It's even less understandable because
work being done right here refutes what Freud claims. Freud is a
quack. Freud's conclusions are a synopsis of the Greek tragedies and
his work is a tragedy. It will be a century before we recover from
his influence.
On human sexuality, he must have come to his
conclusions by examining cadavers in a dark room while wearing
mittens." The students snickered.
"What makes you an
authority."
"When we are ignorant, everyone is an
authority."
The lecture hall was silent, dead silent. "No
person, no organization, no document has any more authority than we
give them.
Because current research and Freud's own data does not
support his conclusions, I choose not to give Freud any authority and
anyone who does, I consider them to be a fool."
"Is your
nick name Doc."
"Yes."
"Class
dismissed."
It took Doc's adviser two weeks to placate the
professor.
The medical profession's attitude toward death was
another topic that gave Doc problems. It seem to Doc that the medical
profession viewed death as an enemy. One that could be conquered and
when we lost, we always lost, everyone was so dejected.
If a
doctor was not personally involved with the patient and if he didn't
make any mistakes, why should death have such an impact on the
doctor. Was it the ego? He had seen doctors have depression when
their patients died.
To Doc death was an event, a necessary event.
Without death, evolution could not proceed. Without death, evolution
could only dilute the current population. With death, evolution could
change the current population in few generations. We can prolong
life, but we can't prevent death. In some cases we should welcome
death.
Doc agreed that a doctor should prolong life when possible,
but he felt even more strongly that a doctor should prevent pain and
suffering. If he could not then he should invite death. These views
were antipodal to the medical community and Doc never espoused them
except in very special company. Still, when Doc witnessed this
conflict, it disturbed him.
Sometime later, the students witnessed
a protracted delivery. The woman was in hard labor for more than
eight hours. Before she delivered she became hysterical. The
professor reviewed the case to make sure they recognized the problem
and knew what to do if they had to deal with such a case.
After
the professor left the students continued to discuss the case. Slowly
the discussion turned to sarcasm, to derogatory. Doc had had enough,
"You sissies wouldn't have lasted half an hour, give her credit
for lasting as long as she did."
"Why are you so
defensive about women."
"Women have an extra burden and
nature has given them more capacity to handle the burden. If the
burden becomes to much to bear there is no reason for anyone to
ridicule. What does your ego gain by belittling someone else.
Nothing. In my opinion you lose by doing so. Besides, men are
supposed to protect women and as far as I'm concerned that means
verbally as well as physically."
Doc got up and left. The
others sat and stared at one another, then one by one they got up and
left, in silence.
Return to Doc Table of Content
After school Doc went to a leper colony
for a year and a half. Life was very routine, except for four
significant conclusions. A reason for pain was the first conclusion.
Doc had difficulty excepting the reasons given by other people, he
wasn't satisfied with any of them.
The first thing that struck
Doc, at the colony, was the complete disrespect lepers had for any
disfigured part of their body. When nerves die, a person can't fee
bumps and bruises or scrapes and cuts in that part of the body. If a
part looked ugly, the lepers destroyed it. The worse it looked, the
more they tore at it, making it look worse and a vicious circle was
formed. They continued until they reached live nerves and stopped
because of pain. Without pain, a person cannot distinguish self from
non self. With pain there is respect for the self. Doc wondered if
the same analogy applied to social interactions as well. He didn't
know how far it would apply, but there seemed to be some correlation,
he did not pursue this line of thought.
After observing the lepers
for a year, Doc came to a second conclusion. We create our own hell
here on earth, if not physically, in our mind. Doc reviewed people he
knew and it was clear to him that this was the case, some people did
both.
The third conclusion flowed naturally from the second. Satan
did not exist, except in our minds. Eve questioned Doc on this point,
"How would anyone know if it was true?" Doc replied half
jokingly, "When I die you will know. If I have a smile on my
face and if I am at peace, you will know that even I was forgiven and
that what I have told you is true."
"Do I have to wait
for you to die to find out?"
"Some questions can only be
answered by faith, for me, only at death will I know."
If
satan did exist and if he had all the power Doc's childhood church
community said he had, people would not stand a chance. So logically,
from Doc's point of view, satan could not exist. Doc though satan was
the weakest part of Christianity. Now Doc reinterpreted the verse,
"Get behind me satan," to mean, that was the end of
satan.
One more shackle of his inherited religion was removed. Now
people had to take responsibility for their actions, they could no
longer use the excuse, 'The devil made me do it'.
God was speaking
to us, Doc thought, in the verse, 'seek the truth and the truth will
set you free'. Doc was free of another shackle and he was glad.
A
natural extension of the third conclusion was that all abstract
words, such as, beauty, justice, love, truth, even God exist only in
our minds. Doc was not prepared to go that far, but the thought made
him cautious about his own view of the world and his interpretation
of it.
The fourth conclusion was that we were all slaves, slaves
to our biology, our instincts, and our environment. We are bound to
our biology like the moon to the earth and the earth to the sun. Our
orbits differ only by the changes caused by evolution.
We are
bound to our history by an invisible tether, we are what our parents
were. A good back ground in history at least allows us to know what
errors we have made and what we are fighting against.
We are
incarcerated by our instincts, prisoners of our passions. We are
deluded by our rationality, thinking we can be free. Only by
satisfying our instincts is the prison enlarged. We may delay or
avoid our instincts, but we must obey or forever be frustrated.
Our
passions own us instead of the other way around. We are bound by the
maintenance and protection we provide them more tightly than anything
else except our instincts. We follow erroneous paths trying to find
happiness, some fools seek thrills, other fun, when the only course
is to enjoy the satisfaction of preserving and perpetuating our
species.
Herein lies the only justification for capital
punishment, it guaranties faulty instincts will no longer be passed
to the next generation.
Who among us can teach another person a
lesson or can dole out the appropriate justice. Our current system of
justice is only publicly acceptable retaliation. Every society gets
the behavior it condones, boys will be boys, isn't that cute, I was
drunk, I was mad, etc. That child doesn't listen to a thing I say,
you're right, but he acts just like you. Children ape everything
their parents do, is it any wonder why we have the problems we have,
our children have such wonderful examples. You can lead a horse, but
you can't make him obey the rules.
We can't escape our
environment, we take it with us everywhere we go or recreate it. We
can change it, it is the area of our greatest freedom, especially the
environment of our minds. We can change our thoughts and our actions.
With care we can change anything that we have created. We must be
careful, we may not get the change we expected.
Our habits do not
imprison us, we are a bunch of weak willed wimps, we cling
tenaciously to our habits to keep them from escaping. The flesh is
strong, it's the mind that's weak.
Another shackle fell to the
floor. The fourth conclusion brought another chapter in Doc's life to
a close and he rarely used his mind on abstract thoughts again,
instead he turned to practical matters.
When the United States
declared war on Japan, Doc left the colony to enlist. The staff and
patients didn't want Doc to leave, but they had to let him go, to do
other wise would be unpatriotic. This allowed Doc to leave the colony
gracefully, he had had enough and didn't want to stay. They asked him
to come back after the war, "Thank you, I consider it an honor
to be asked to return." Doc continued to correspond with several
people in the colony for the rest of his life, but he never returned,
not even for a visit.
On his arrival in the city, he and Joe had a
joyous reunion. Joe tried to enlist when the war broke out in Europe,
but he was 4F. So was Doc, but the army hired him as a civil servant
to perform physicals at the city induction center. The work was
routine and very repetitious, but it offered Doc an opportunity to
observe a large number of young men, an experience that can be
obtained in no other way.
This new position worked quite well
because the induction center was within walking distance of Joe's
apartment on the top floor of an old seven story office building with
very low occupancy. The building was on the edge of the neighborhood,
near the business district, very close to Doc's old school. Joe and
Doc settled into a routine as if Doc had never left.
Within a year
Doc rented the other apartment on the seventh floor. It had two more
rooms than Joe's. Those extra rooms were his first office. The large
room was his waiting room and the smaller, the examination room. Doc
didn't need a waiting room, but he had one anyway.
Slowly, he
furnished the office and the apartment. All the furnishings were
necessary, most people would describe his apartment as spartan. Just
as slowly he acquired patients. Most were working women, they could
only come after work. Since that was the only time Doc could conduct
his own practice, everyone was satisfied.
Doc kept his fees low.
The word got around about Doc's hours and his practice increased. The
number of unwed mothers increased dramatically. The women gave their
men something to remember them and the men gave them something to
remember them. Venereal disease also increased.
Doc was assigned
several home bound vets to oversee. The government paid most of the
expense and Doc paid the rest. Joe asked Doc to take a very special
case. A man came in contact with a very toxic chemical being produced
for the government. Everyone one concerned wanted as little publicity
as possible. They kept the man at the chemical plant. He had no known
relatives and his only friends were coworkers.
Only a few people
at the plant knew about the accident and they wouldn't tell anyone.
The small plant was already under tight security because it produced
many different toxic chemicals and each had to be handled with
special equipment. Since Doc was under a government contract and was
sworn to secrecy, the parties involved agreed to let Doc handle the
case.
The chemical plant was in the marsh country, surrounded by
two large oil refineries. The refinery parking lots were adjacent to
one another. They shared a common security check point and a common
drive way with each other and the chemical plant. A two track road
from the back of the parking lot, twist and turned between the tank
farms of the refineries to the chemical plant. It could not be seen
from the highway. Only a very observant person would have known the
chemical plant was located there, it was very isolated.
Doc was
given a special pass, a government car and driver, and all the
release time he wanted from the induction center. He could go
anywhere at anytime. The owner of the plant paid all expenses. He
converted a small storage shed into a patients room with all the
equipment Doc wanted. The man had all the symptoms of rabies. Doc
research for antidotes, there were none. He tried everything he knew
and nothing worked.
In desperation, he investigated the accident,
hoping to find a clue, he didn't find any. The accident was caused by
poorly maintained equipment. If it hadn't been for the war, the owner
would have closed the plant and retired, he let the plant run down in
anticipation of closing it. He agreed to continue production when the
government told him they needed the chemicals and he kept the money
the government gave him to modernize the plant.
Doc walked through
the plant with the same hope, that some how it would give him a clue.
On one of those walks as he looked through a lab window, a lone
workman was standing at a hood deliberately putting a small amount of
a chemical on the back of his hand. The chemical was absorbed very
quickly leaving no trace and another person could not be contaminated
by touching his skin.
Doc couldn't believe his eyes, "Why
would anyone put a toxic chemical on their hand knowing there was no
antidote?" Doc waited until he was finished, entered the lab,
and asked, "Why?" The man panicked. Doc assured him, "I'm
a doctor and anything you say will be in very strict confidence."
The old man agreed to tell his story.
"Many workers had
similar accidents over the years. If the accident involved a large
amount of chemical, they died very quickly. If the amount was small,
the symptoms came after several days. If the symptoms did not appear
within seven days nothing happened. If the symptoms appeared they
died.
I had an accident with a small quantity of a chemical. I was
so nervous when the symptoms appeared I spilled a small amount of
another chemical on my arm and the symptoms went away. When the
symptoms reappeared, I put a small amount of the first chemical on
the back of my hand. I alternated chemicals each time the symptoms
appeared. Two other workers had similar accidents, I told them what
to do and they had similar results. We told your patient what to do,
but he wouldn't listen." Doc listened in amazement realizing the
significance.
The worker pleaded, for obvious reasons, "Please,
Doc, buy the plant and keep it running. I'll give you what little
money I have and I'm sure the other two will do the same. The owner
will sell and the government will agree since you were allowed to
work on this case."
Doc applied many different amounts and
combinations of chemicals, but it was to late, his patient died after
twenty horrible days.
Doc and Joe bought the chemical plant, it
was their second acquisition and the beginning of the organization.
Doc managed the plant and Joe sold the products. They rented an
office on the floor below their apartments to serve as the chemical
plant management and sales office. The previous owner operated out of
the trunk of his car.
By the end of the war the plant was
modernized and out of debt. Many disabled vets couldn't do physical
work, but could manage or sell. They hired as many as possible and
soon they were free of the daily operations and had a small cadre of
loyal employees.
Doc's attention returned to medicine, he decided
to start his own clinic. His practice had grown and there was a need
for low cost medical care, the economy was in recession. Profits from
their organization were used to buy the office building in which they
lived and worked and later to buy the two other little used buildings
in their block.
One was a manufacturing building, the other a
warehouse. The office building and the warehouse were on the same
side of the block with an alley between them. The manufacturing
building was large, it occupied the rest of the block. Another alley
separated it from the other two buildings, the two alleys formed a
'T".
They converted the office building into a clinic with a
reception room, a receiving room, and patient examinations rooms on
the first floor and a cafeteria in the basement. They moved the
medical equipment from the chemical plant to the clinic.
As money
allowed, they put convalescent rooms on the next three floors and
sleeping rooms and offices on the other floors. They hired doctors
returning from the war and let them stay at the clinic. Turn over was
high, the doctors stayed until they could establish their own
practice and could afford their own apartments. Doc encouraged them,
he helped them become established.
At first, his practice was
mainly unwed mothers, now with the returning vets, it was families.
He referred the families to the returning doctors and they referred
special cases to Doc, such as heroin addiction. Some vets brought the
habit back with them, instead of it being a rare case, it was more
common.
The clinic served three types of patients, indigent, unwed
mothers, and addicts, alcohol and heroin. The addicts didn't respond
to standard therapy. Doc tried many different approaches, none were
very successful, more than two thirds returned to their addiction.
One addict was in Doc's treatment program three times. When he
returned the fourth time, Doc asked, "Would you be willing to
try something very risky."
"Why not, I'm going to kill
myself anyway, it's just a matter of time."
"Once you
start you can never stop."
"I don't care," but like
most people, he didn't realize what never means.
Doc tried one of
the toxic chemicals, by accident he applied the chemical just before
the addict would have gone into withdrawal. Doc later learned, the
amount of heroin in the body had to be very low, else the
administration of either chemical 'A' or 'B' was fatal. Later the
chemicals were simply called A and B and the patients were called
AB's.
"Come back in one week, sooner if you don't feel well
and don't be late." He came back in one week, "It's great,
no withdrawal and I don't crave heroin." Doc applied chemical
'B' and told him to come back in one week. He did with the same
results, Doc was elated. He couldn't wait to try the treatment on
other intractable addicts. Over the next few years Doc perfected the
treatment. He and the addicts learned, this treatment had to be the
treatment of last resort. Many an addict died because they would not
stick to the regimen.
One told Doc, "I want another
high."
"Do you crave heroin?"
"No."
"It
might kill you," it did.
His buddy came to Doc, "Help me
go cold turkey. I was with him when he died. It was so violent and
happened so fast, it scared the daylights out of me. I want to quit."
Doc helped him.
Doc kept a small amount of heroin at the clinic,
he used heroin in a treatment program designed to wean addicts from
the habit by giving them smaller and smaller doses of heroin. It did
not work. Several times addicts broke into the clinic and stole his
heroin. One addict robbed the clinic, prompting Doc to create his own
security service.
Fortuitously, Doc was treating a referral
patient for combat stress. "I'm desperately trying to find
something to calm myself down. My former doctor told me you had a
chemical that might help."
"The AB treatment might work,
but I would rather try other methods first because of the long term
commitment required and its risks."
The man had served in
special services and had participated in many hand to hand combat
missions behind enemy lines, he couldn't adjust to civilian life. Doc
discussed the security service with him, "If you did this kind
of work could you transfer your anxieties to work and away from your
home life?" He though for a while, "It might work, the work
would be similar and I could use some of my skills." The more he
thought about it, the more his mood changed, he even began to smile.
"I have two comrades, they are having difficulty, too. Could I
ask them to join me?"
"I think that's a great idea. Pick
your own people, they can report to you and you can report to me or
Joe."
His mood change was dramatic, he was in charge, he
could use some of his skills, he could choose and train his own
people. Five years would pass before he was adjusted enough to marry
and have a family.
Thus was born the Men in Black, an elite
security service. They didn't carry weapons, they didn't need them
and no one called them boys in black. As their name implies, they
were dressed in a dull black, everything, not a shine on any part of
them, not even their faces, everything was dull. In shadows they
nearly disappeared. Their clothing fit tight, but it was designed to
allow complete freedom of movement. In winter, they wore black
jackets, gloves, and caps.
Doc and Joe attended his first training
sessions. He was surprised by the capabilities of his two employers
and even more surprised when he learned how they acquired them.
The
top floor of the manufacturing building was converted into the
security service facilities with all the latest equipment, a complete
training area, offices, and living quarters. Within three years they
needed three floors. The security service activities expanded quite
by accident and became one of the most profitable divisions of the
organization. The security service turned out to be everything Doc
had envisioned and more. They were hired by other people, companies,
and government agencies as body guards, security guards, to protect
VIP's and property, and even for special assignments. Doc was
delighted with their performance. His first satisfaction came shortly
after they were formed.
After examining a beaten woman, Doc said,
"Let me talk to your husband."
"No. I don't want
you to do that, I...."
"You can't go in there,"
said a nurse from the hall as her husband burst into the exam
room.
"Get you clothes on we're leaving." He threw and
ill timed punch at Doc, but his fist never reached its target.
"Do
you want us to eliminate him?" asked one of the two Men in Black
standing on each side of him. Doc smiled with pleasure at their fast
response.
The husband was still belligerent even as pain forced
him to his knees. Slowly the meaning of their words sank into his
angry brain. He worked on the water front and had heard stories about
the Men in Black. He turned from defiant to cringing, from beat red
with anger to bloodless white with fear. His eyes were wide as Doc
responded, "No, I think he will listen very carefully to what I
have to say and I'm quite sure he will do exactly as I tell
him.
Thank you, men. Shut the door as you leave.
Sit down,"
he nodded toward a chair. Her husband couldn't move fast enough.
"From now on you will be a thoughtful and loving husband and you
will take care of your family like a man." He turned to her,
"And you will be a good wife and you will help him be a good
husband.
I want to see you in a week. Make an appointment on your
way out." Doc left as they clung to one another in an embrace of
relief. He instructed his staff, "Let them have as much time as
they need to regain their composure."
As the Men in Black
worked with Doc, it became apparent to all that Doc was not
practicing medicine to make money. Doc enjoyed the challenge of
medicine, he was always learning, and he genuinely wanted to help
people. His attitude of enjoying a challenge, of constantly learning,
and being genuine, was contagious, it infected any and everyone who
knew Doc. This was another reason why his friends over looked his
short comings.
A Man in Black helped Doc patch up a man beaten by
loan sharks. After the injured man left, Doc said offhandedly, "There
should be some way to eliminate this type of misery." The Man in
Black responded as they walked down the hall, "What if we had a
bank for poor people?"
"That's a good idea. Why not?"
Doc didn't realize what he had set in motion, but soon he was so
pleased with the results even he was encouraging it. The Man in Black
talked with others in the service, the talk turned to action, they
created a bank. It followed two of Doc's many philosophies.
First,
when Doc treated a patient who claimed they couldn't pay, Doc always
checked their story, later he had the service check their story, but
Doc often said, 'Always check every message you receive'. If their
claim was true, Doc found away to pay for the treatment even if he
had to pay for it himself. If the claim was false, the patient
paid.
Second, Doc always listened carefully to everyone. The
difference between Doc and other people was his action. He acted very
quickly on what he had learned, in medicine, many times, he had to
act fast when he learned something, but he did not limit his action
to medicine.
The bank did make money, but most of the time it lost
money on its lending operations, not very much, but still a loss. The
bank made money by listening carefully to the little people as Doc
called them, in the process valuable information was gathered.
A
customer mentioned the cabby, "He wants to start his own cab
company." The bank evaluated the possibility, their analysis
indicated a new cab company could not pay off a loan. They suggested,
"Would you manage a cab company for the
organization."
Surprisingly, the cabby was very successful,
the bank had under estimated the growing market. The fringe benefits
of the organization were so good, the cabby declined to become the
owner when the bank suggested he could.
Now the organization, not
only had the eyes and ears of the little people, it had the eyes and
ears of every cab driver in their company. The organization would
give away a hundred dollars on Monday to help someone and it received
a thousand by Friday. The organization used the extra money to buy or
start another business. The expansion was very rapid, the more it
grew the faster it grew. Soon, the bank handled all the financial
transactions of the organization and oddly, the service became the
accounts receivable and accounts payable department for the
organization, they collected all debts and paid all debts.
Years
later, the service provided Doc with body guards. Almost everywhere
Doc went, five Men in Black went. When he walked down the street, one
in front, one in back, one between Doc and the buildings, one between
Doc and the street, and one across the street. They used hand signals
to communicate with each other. Most people didn't pay attention to
them, they seemed to blend into the background. They appeared to have
no connection with Doc, except the one next to the curb, sometimes he
talked with Doc.
Doc participated in a television panel discussion
on sex education. Doc didn't want to do it, but he couldn't wiggle
his way out of it. Obviously, Doc was not in a good mood when the
discussion began and it soon became apparent to everyone else.
The
discussion took place on the stage of an old theater. His body guards
went with him and disappeared into the crowd. Each speaker was to
present their views in five minutes and to ask questions of one
another afterwards, followed by questions from the audience.
Two
TV cameras were on the very front of the stage. A series of small
tables were placed on the arc of a circle near the back of the stage.
The cameras had a front view of all the speakers by rotating, no
other motion was necessary. If two speakers were debating, a camera
was on each one.
The moderator was in the middle and introduced
the topic and the speakers. Doc was at an end table, he spoke first
followed by each of the other speakers around the arc. The last
speaker began with a quote from the bible.
Doc said loud enough
for everyone to hear, "More biblical BS." The moderator
frowned at Doc and the speaker continued as if nothing had been said.
When he finished, Doc didn't wait for the moderator. "It's
obvious you have never studied human anatomy or you would never have
said, 'In the beginning, we were perfect in every way, physically and
mentally'.
Evolution does not create perfect creatures, only
creatures good enough to survive. We were never perfect. We have not
fallen from grace, we were never perfect to begin with and we are
still improving."
The starting shot was fired in a two man
debate despite the efforts of the moderator and the other speakers.
Every time he made a statement, Doc destroyed what he said with
increasing venom, until they were shouting at each other, faces red
with anger. He pulled a pistol from his brief case and came around
the table toward Doc.
Instantly, Doc's male ego took over, he
jumped up and met him halfway, right in front of the cameras. A
collective gasp came from the audience and everyone froze except for
the camera operators and Doc's body guards.
TV sets around the
nation tuned in, as people called their friends. Those who reacted
fast enough, remained glued to their TV screens as this real life
drama unfolded. He kept talking and so did Doc. He waved his arms
around as he talked, but he kept his distance. People in the
direction of the pistol ducked. When Doc made a signal, he noticed
the Men in Black, "Who are they?"
"My men."
"Call
off your dogs." The men moved closer, but Doc signaled and they
retreated. Doc walked around him, "Look over my shoulder and you
will see, they have moved back."
Doc walked around him a
second time. "Where'd everyone go?"
When Doc focused his
attention in one direction, the Men in Black removed the people, the
tables, and chairs from the opposite direction. When the stage was
empty except for them and the camera crews, a barely audible sigh of
relief came from the audience.
The police arrived followed by a
contingent of photographers. The Men in Black told them, "Stay
out of sight, we don't want anything to cause him to shoot before Doc
can get his pistol."
The police agreed, but two photographers
learned to listen when the Men in Black spoke. The first went onto
the stage with his flash camera, he was grabbed by the neck and
removed. He would not be able to take pictures for a week because of
the pain in his neck when he turned his head.
Another followed him
and was dealt with even more severely. He was raising his camera,
when a sharp blow caused him to collapse like a wet dish cloth. The
Man in Black calmly caught his camera when he fell, to keep the noise
level as low as possible. The other photographers went scurrying like
a bunch of rats. The Men in Black pointed to the orchestra pit and
that is where they went.
Doc continued to walk around him, he
slowly closed the gap between them. He slid his right hand up the
side of his face as if to wipe away the sweat and at the same time he
slowly extended his left hand, keeping his palm toward him. He
increased the speed of the left hand while he watched his eyes. His
eyes instinctively followed the largest surface area moving the
quickest. In that instant, Doc pivoted on his left foot and struck
with his right hand.
The blow nearly broke the man's wrist as the
pistol went flying, a Man in Black pounced on it. Doc made a mistake,
he thought it was over and relaxed. He grabbed Doc by the throat and
bent him backwards. The Men in Black converged, again Doc signaled
and they stopped. A very loud scream was heard as Doc grabbed his
wrists. This image was fixed in everyone's mind, Doc bent over
backwards screaming as he was choked.
Suddenly he collapsed, Doc
let him fall to the floor, dead from a heart attack. As Doc
straightened and bent over to check him, another collective sigh came
from the audience, quickly followed by a sense of satisfaction on the
verge of joy.
Eve and Joe chuckled as they finished this story.
They had told enough stories about Doc, now they could talk about the
accident. They pieced together what Joe could remember and what Eve
could understand of Doc's incoherent mumbling in the hospital.
Return to Doc Table of Content
Doc was happy with his decision to
drive the big car back to the city, his chauffeur would follow later
in another car. Joe was asleep on the other side of the glass, he had
one to many the first thing in the morning. Doc enjoyed the feeling
of power as he accelerated up the hills and the feeling of
weightlessness as the big car lift from the road as he crest each
hill, he coast down the other side, giving a roller coaster effect,
to be repeated at the next hill.
It was a beautiful day, cool
light breeze, a clear sky except for a few cream puff clouds, an
ideal day to drive. To Doc it was a perfect way to cap off a perfect
weekend at the mansion. The only mar was that Eve had stayed in the
city. He missed her and thought about her often during the weekend.
He would tell her he missed her and thought of her when they met, as
he always did.
These weekends were few and far between with his
busy schedule. He enjoyed sitting on the balcony over looking the
pool. He liked to watch the guests and employees swimming and sun
bathing and at the same time to look over the manicured grounds with
beautiful flowers and if he chose to look further and see horses
running in the far pasture and cattle beyond.
The mansion was 'U'
shaped with the open end looking south down a valley. The bottom of
the 'U' contained the main entrance, a greeting room, and a dinning
room on the first floor. The second floor had a large ballroom and
his and Joe's apartments were on the third floor. The west side had
apartments for guests on the second floor, with the library and
offices on the first floor. The east side was designed for families.
Employees could reserve an apartment on the east side for vacations.
All the apartments on the first floor opened to the pool in the
center of the 'U'.
The guests had been very cordial, each had
given him a gift to add to his various collections, one a rare book,
another a block of stamps, another a painting. Only one had given him
money, how vulgar. The staff performed very well and the employees
and their families behaved so well the guests didn't realize they
were employees.
Who said you couldn't find good employees. He was
very satisfied with his people. They were very loyal and very
dependable and everyone tried to do their best. He had given each one
a little something extra. Anyone could have good employees if they
paid them well, had good benefits, and treated them with respect. Doc
couldn't understand it, why didn't every employer have good
employees. A good employee was inexpensive, a poor one could cost a
bundle.
"Oh well."
Doc decided to enjoy the drive and
he didn't think about any thing for several miles. But as he rounded
a curve and new fields came into view, something about the lay of the
land reminded him of his grandparents farm and with it came a flood
of memories.
"Ah, what bitter sweet memories." He could
hear his grandmother, "Be a good boy or you will go to that
other place." His grandmother never swore, in fact she never
said anything bad about anyone or anything, like Thumper, if she
couldn't say something good, she didn't say anything at all.
He
could see her, she was shaking her finger at him, "Be a good boy
or you will go to that other place." She said this when ever he
did something she didn't approve.
If she could only see him now,
how proud she would be, to see how successful he was, how many
obstacles he had over come and still had achieved so much. She would
have been especially proud that he was a doctor.
She would not be
happy with the wealth he and his best friend, Joe, had acquired, or
the organization they had created, to her wealth and power were evil.
But she would have admired what they had accomplished with their
money and with their organization.
She would have liked the clinic
to help heroin addicts and to provide health care for the indigent
and unwed mothers. She would have smiled at the number of committees
he served to support the arts and charities. The only thing Doc could
think of that would make her sad was that he didn't have any
children.
That thought led to the memory of his first sex, it
changed his life. It happened the last summer at his grandparents
farm. It was an annual ritual, the second week of summer vacation,
off he went to grandparents farm, every summer since he was six. He
looked forward to going, he liked the change of pace, the change in
environment, and home cooked food. His grandmother was an excellent
cook, so was his grandfather. He helped his grandfather with the
chores and his grandmother with the vegetable and flower gardens. The
neighbor girl, Dawn, helped her almost every day. His grandmother had
a special bond with Dawn, Doc never knew for certain what it was.
One
day in June, as they walked back to the house after working in the
flower garden all afternoon, Dawn remembered, "My parents will
not be back until after supper." Of course, grandmother said,
"Stay and have supper with us." After supper the women did
the dishes and the men did the evening chores. By the time they
finished it was dark.
When the men returned to the house the women
were still talking, they completely forgot the time. Grandmother
turned to Doc, "Why don't you walk Dawn home." Doc didn't
want to go, after all, Dawn was three years older and she had walked
home many times by herself even when she was much younger, but he
didn't want to confront his grandmother, so he did.
The sky was
clear, without a moon, so many stars could be seen it was hard to
make out the constellations. They had been friends for nine years and
conversation came easily. The time passed very quickly and they
arrived at Dawn's home in what seemed like an instant even though at
least eighty acres separated the two farm houses. He had to go in and
say hello to her parents, that hello ended after an hour long
conversation. As he said good bye, he realized that Dawn was not
downstairs and hollered to her and left.
Both farm houses were a
long way from the road, to save time, Doc decided to walk across the
fields. He like to walk through fresh mown hay and he was looking
forward to the second field, the first was corn. The light from the
windows allowed him to avoid the flower beds.
To miss one large
flower bed, he had to turn toward the back of the house before he
could enter the corn field. As he stepped between the corn rows, the
light intensity changed. Instinctively he turned his head and froze
in his tracks. For some reason Doc couldn't make himself move, he
didn't know why.
Dawn had stepped between one lamp and the window
as she removed her blouse. Dawn never wore a bra and Doc never
noticed how large she was, she always wore loose fitting clothes that
didn't accent her figure. He was erect in an instant, bursting at the
buttons on his jeans. His clothes were tight to begin with because
like most families he wouldn't get new clothes until school
started.
He stood transfixed, watching her undress. All the farm
houses in this area had low ceilings and floor to ceiling windows to
let in as much light as possible and no one had shades on their
windows, so Doc could see everything but her feet. She turned to go
to the door, but stopped and returned to her bed. She put her foot on
the bed, turned her knee out, and her leg over to look at something
on the underside of her thigh. As she did so, her labia parted, it
was to much for Doc's uninitiated sexuality, he ejaculated.
Dawn
left the room, out of Doc's sight. He couldn't move for more than
five minutes and then he had to force himself to do it. All the
muscles in his body were sore. His neck was stiff and didn't function
properly until he reached the hay field. He went straight to the
pump, removed his pants and underwear, and rinse them as best he
could in the dark. Now he understood the other boys when they said,
"Creamed your jeans did ya."
Doc knew as much about sex
as most doctors did, but it was intellectual, now it was personal.
Until now, Doc had not had any symptoms of maturing. That night he
had a weird erotic dream and spurious erections the next morning,
followed by wet dreams every night for the next two weeks.
Doc
peeked in the windows, his grandparents were in the living room
listening to the radio. He went in the kitchen door and up the stairs
as quickly as he could, hollering, "I'm home."
"You're
late, what took you so long." He replied down the stairs, "We
were talking and forgot the time."
Two weeks later, both
grandparents went on an errand and left Dawn and Doc to weed the
vegetable garden on a hot afternoon. They went to the pump after two
rows. They took turns pumping while the other took a drink and of
course teasing one another all the while. As they walked back to the
garden the wind picked up and the sky turned dark. Dawn said, "Let's
go to the barn before it rains."
A wise suggestion because it
started to rain as they reached the barn. They looked out the door
and watched it rain for a while. It rained harder and they both knew
they would have to find something to do because it was going to rain
the rest of the day. They amused themselves by climbing on the hay
wagon and the beams of the barn, but soon became bored and returned
to watching the rain through the door.
Grandfather was a
progressive farmer, he had all the modern gadgets, one of which was a
hay fork on a rail. The rail ran the full length of the barn just
below the roof and out a door high on one end of the barn. Three
ropes controlled the hay fork, one tethered the car, one the hay
fork, and the last one was the lift rope. It ran through a set of
pulleys that raised and lowered the hay fork from the car to the
floor.
Doc decided to ride the hay fork. They experimented with
several options until they found the one that was the most fun. They
raise the hay fork until it cleared the bottom of the door and tied
the lift rope to the fork and wrapped the rest of the rope around the
hay fork.
One of them climbed on to the hay fork and the other
pulled the rail car tether rope from one end of the barn to the
other. As they became more daring, they ran from one end of the barn
toward the door high on the other end and let go of the rope, the one
on the hay fork traveled out of the barn until the rail car hit the
stop at the end of the rail and swung out in a large arc before their
momentum brought them back and caused the rail car to move back into
the barn.
This was great fun for the person riding the hay fork,
but very tiring for the person doing the pulling so they traded
positions after three trips. They continued until they were
exhausted. They went up in the hay loft over the hay wagon to
rest.
The hay was almost level with the door so they piled the hay
so they could lie at an angle with their feet on the bottom edge of
the door and their heads high enough to look out over the fields
through the door. They had to lie close together to get both pairs of
feet in the door. They lay with their hands behind their heads
watching the rain fall.
When they were rested, they nudged and
tickled one another and in the process Doc's elbow hit Dawn in the
head. Jokingly, he said, "Let me kiss it and make it all
better." As he did she put her arms around him and that kiss led
to another and another. Dawn was responding to the kisses but Doc was
not stimulated, he became bored and stopped. He let go of her, put
his hands behind his head and watched the rain fall.
Dawn
continued to kiss, to nudge, and to tickle him, but Doc didn't
respond. Dawn wanted his attention. She pulled her shirt tails out of
her jeans and tied them together in front creating a pocket between
her breasts, the shirt and the knot. It also accented her bustline
and bared her midriff.
She returned to tickling Doc even though he
wasn't responding, it was a diversion while she took Doc's pocket
watch. She put it between her breasts and lay back in the hay. Doc
moved to get the watch back until he saw where she put it. He lay
back in the hay and ignored her. Realizing the ploy hadn't worked she
sat up, removed the watch, spread her legs, and dropped the watch
into the hay.
Now Doc responded, he didn't want the watch to sink
into the hay. He sat up and reached for the watch, she closed her
legs. When he tried to go under her leg, she spread them, blocking
his hand from going underneath. Doc tried several feints in an
attempt to reach the watch and didn't pay attention to what Dawn was
doing.
With each feint, Dawn moved her body closer to the watch.
When he made his final move she intentionally spread her legs to let
him have access to the watch, but when he reached, she closed her
legs on his hand.
Doc finally got the message, Dawn wanted his
attention and she was going to get it. He didn't struggle to remove
his hand, instead he pushed against her body and felt the softness of
her labia, instantly he was aroused.
When she knew he wasn't going
the remove his hand, she spread her legs. Instinctively, he slid his
hand up and down her labia and down the inside of her thigh and up
the outside and gently squeezed her hip. While she kissed him
passionately, Doc picked up his watch and put it in his pocket. He
placed his hand on her midriff and slid it across her waist.
She
surprised him by suddenly pushing him away, standing up, and removing
her clothes, Doc followed. She spread their clothes on the hay and
lay on them. She beckon and Doc lay on top of her. She wrapped her
arms and legs around him and moved her hips until he entered.
Immediately he ejaculated, but kept moving in, and instinctively
began a rhythmic thrusting motion. He ejaculated three more times
before she relaxed her grip and let him roll off. They dressed, lay
in each others arms, watched, and listened to the rain. It was still
raining when the dinner bell rang. They broke their embrace and ran
to the house. The rest of the day was routine.
They had sex at
least once every day for the rest of the summer and every interlude
began the same way. Dawn placed Doc's hand on her bare waist. For all
of Doc's intellectual and observational power, he never understood
the significance of that gesture.
Dawn came to the farm everyday,
Doc went to her house every night. Once together they went anywhere,
one of the barns, the pastures, the fields, the orchard, the woods,
taking a horse blanket with them.
Her parents and his grandparents
wondered what was going on because neither talked to the other when
someone else was near. They displayed no signs of endearment other
than bumping hips or shoulders when they met and laughing. His
grandfather was worried, but when he shared his concerns, his wife
said, "Leave them alone, they're just friends."
Sex had
a profound affect on Doc, he changed from ignoring women to paying
very close attention to all women. He wanted to learn more than he
already knew, he listened to women and watched them. He learned how
to talk to them and how to help them talk to him. He tried to please
or to satisfy women. Doc was not a charismatic person, but he learned
to meet and talk with women with great ease and confidence.
Doc
was very disappointed when he researched the libraries, most books
were about their medical problems, a few about their psychology, but
nothing about women.
Two weeks after his first sex, the most
embarrassing event in Doc's life occurred. It was a very hot day,
even his grandfather went to the house for nap. Doc didn't feel like
sleeping and Dawn had gone to town with her mother. He decided to go
to the pond for a swim.
He wasn't alone, when he arrived many boys
were already in the water. No one wore a swim suit or brought a
towel. After they finished swimming they stood on the shore and let
the wind dry them. They put on their clothes and sat on logs or the
ground and told stories. Eventually the stories turned to sex and
each boy bragged about his exploits. Everyone told a story except
Doc.
One said, "What about you, Doc, you haven't said a
thing." He didn't want to say anything, but they razzed him
until he did. When he said he had, they wanted to know who. Again he
didn't want to say anything, but they chanted, "We don't believe
you," until he told.
He no more than said Dawn's name when
the others burst into roaring laughter. When they calmed down a
little, one said, "Dawn don't count, she laid every man over
fifteen in the county, even your grandfather," and they laughed
again.
Doc turned beet red and couldn't think straight for a
while. The others went on talking. When Doc's blood pressure and
temperature returned to normal, he got the courage to ask, "How
would you know about my grandfather?", and the boy told his
story.
I went into your grandparents orchard to check the sweet
cherries. I climbed high in the tree and ate a few, but they were
still green. As I climbed down I saw your grandfather and Dawn
weeding that special patch of his, at the corner of the orchard. I
didn't want them to see me so I climbed to the other side of the tree
and put as many branches as possible between them and me. I couldn't
see them, but I could hear every word.
From their talk, Dawn was
bumping and poking him every chance she got. If he moved to another
row to get away from her, she moved to the row next to him. He
scolded her several times and told her to behave herself, but she
kept at it.
After weeding the rows, they went back on hands and
knees to remove the weeds from between the plants. Dawn continued to
bump and poke him, he gave up and stopped scolding her or moving away
from her, he ignored her. From what he said, Dawn was rubbing her
breast against his arm or shoulder. He got mad, "If you don't
stop, you will have to leave."
"What kind of weed is
this?"
"Dawn button your blouse."
They repeated
such talk many times. He got mad again, "Go to the house."
She got up and left, but didn't go to the house, she went under the
old apple tree in the corner of the orchard. She unrolled a blanket
and took off her clothes and lay on her side facing me. I could see
her and I was afraid she would see me so I kept very still and even
tried not to breath hard.
Dam she has a beautiful body.
She
waited for your grandfather to reach the end of the row, then she
made a sound. When your grandfather looked at her, she rolled on her
back and spread her legs. He stood up and just looked at her, he was
going to say something, but she raise up on her elbows, pulled one
foot toward her body raising her knee, and slid her leg back
down.
Without a word he unfastened his overhauls and walked toward
her. When he reached her feet he dropped them and his drawers and
fell on his knees between her legs. She reached up and grabbed him
and pulled him on top of her.
Boy did they go at it. They didn't
say a thing, but I never heard so much moaning and groaning my whole
life. When they stopped, he rolled on to his back and pulled her on
top. He held her, rubbed her back, and kept saying over and over,
"You poor little girl."
When he stopped talking Dawn got
up, dressed, and went home crying. He lay there a while longer then
he got dressed and wandered around the fields like he was lost. I
last saw him under the big tree on the knoll in the pasture and I'd
swear he was praying. I climbed down and ran. I was sure glad to get
out of the tree without them seeing me.
The boy sang a song Doc
had heard before and the others joined in immediately, "In the
shade of the old apple tree that's where she first showed it to
me."
Doc didn't hear the rest of the song because he had
jumped up and ran away muttering to himself. He was mad at himself
for saying anything and vowed never to tell anyone about his women,
ever again. A vow he kept until he helped Eve quit heroin.
That
night he confronted Dawn with the stories, Dawn cried, "Yes,
they're true, but please Doc, don't let that come between us, I love
you. Those other men meant nothing to me. Please Doc."
She
sobbed. Doc pulled her to him and held her. He didn't tell her he
loved her because like most young men he didn't know he loved her,
but he did.
She stopped crying, "I know I will never see you
again after this summer. Don't ask me how I know, I just know. Please
let me have the rest of the summer with you as if you had never
known."
Dawn's statement was prophetic, he never saw her
again after he left the farm in September. When she was calm, she
took Doc's hand and placed it underneath her blouse against her bare
waist. It was the best sex he would ever have, sex with Eve came
close, but somehow it lacked something. He felt a compassion for Dawn
he would never feel for another woman. She had been his first
woman.
There was something about Dawn he didn't know and no one
was going to tell him. He knew his grandparent's knew and he tried to
over hear their conversation especially her's with other women, but
she always whispered in such a manner he couldn't understand what she
said.
Doc returned to the present boiling mad. "Damn the
prudish views of this country, even the Canadian were more tolerant
of sex and they had our same stupid heritage. Every adult does it,
when ever they can, it was perfectly normal, in fact you were
abnormal if you didn't, but don't you dare talk about it.
Sheer
Stupidity." Doc ranted and raved for the next couple of miles.
Doc was not paying attention to his driving, it was a good thing no
other cars were on the road. He drove like he was on autopilot.
Because the big car was so powerful, he didn't notice the slight
increase needed to maintain his speed up a long gradual hill. He
crested the hill and began a very sharp decline when the missing
piece to Dawn's puzzle hit him like a ton of bricks.
He had sex
with Dawn at least once a day for more than two months. She didn't
have a period during that time. He certainly wouldn't have forgotten
something like that if he had not been so naive. She was desperately
trying to find a man who could make her pregnant to prove she was a
woman.
"MY GOD," Doc yelled, "Poor Dawn. She was suffering from....."
Reality broke into his thoughts, to late, the long gradual hill hid a train crossing the road at the foot of the steep decline. Doc slammed on the brakes and turned the wheel in a frantic effort to avoid a collision. The last thing he remembered was the steering wheel broke from his strength and that last surge of adrenaline. He never felt the impact, it was to fast and forceful.
Return to Doc Table of Content
When Doc regained consciousness, he
found himself in a very familiar setting. The drab walls, the smell
of ether and alcohol, the lights, and the bustle of people. He hurt
all over. He tried to turn his head, he couldn't. He tried to move
his arms and legs, he couldn't. He tried to speak, he couldn't. He
stared at the ceiling until he fell asleep. When he woke the nurses
were fussing over him. He couldn't see or feel what they were doing,
he just hurt. They noticed his eye lids move, "You finally
decided to join us. Eh?"
He couldn't talk so he blinked his
eyes as a response. They finished and left. Doc didn't expect anyone
to be at the hospital, yet. He was a long way from the city and it
would take time to get in touch, but he knew his people would find
him, soon. He was not concerned and fell asleep. This pattern
continued for what Doc thought was several weeks, but he knew time
seemed much longer under these conditions. The wake periods became
longer and he could speak a little. A doctor told him about his
condition, it wasn't as bad as Doc expected.
"You have a
serious concussion, but you are out of danger now. Your leg is broken
and some ribs. You were immobilized and put in traction. You are
doing remarkably well considering the force of the impact. Your car
was completely destroyed." Doc tried to ask about Joe, but the
doctor said, "I'll tell you more when you are better."
"That's
bad news," and fell asleep. He didn't fight sleep, he knew sleep
was the best thing he could do for himself. Doc was patient, but each
time the doctor returned, he was asleep according to the nurses. They
were trying to notify someone, they didn't understand why, but they
were having difficulty.
The next time Doc awoke, a man was
standing beside the bed. "Hello, Doc," he said cheerfully.
"You don't know me, but I know a lot about you. I'm a recruiter
for a world wide organization and we would like you to join us. We
are very impressed with your record. We like how you handle your
people. We are especially impressed with your ability to recruit and
retain people."
"Anyone can do it."
"Not
the way you can. You can pick your own staff and choose your location
and you would have a very generous expense account. You can almost
name your own salary plus we have many fringe benefits."
"Thank
you, but I enjoy what I'm doing, I'm not interested in money."
"Would
you mind if I came back each day and gave you a sales pitch?"
"No,
but the answer will be the same." The recruiter came every day
and Doc's answer was the same. Doc told his life story, almost the
same as Eve and Joe had shared. Many times Doc became incoherent or
fell asleep in the middle of a sentence. The recruiter told him, "Eve
is on the way. You and Joe are in different rooms because those were
the only beds available at the time. It would be unwise to move
either right now, Joe isn't doing very well.
The next time the
recruiter came, "I won't give you a sales pitch any longer, I'm
between assignments. Would it be OK if I continue to visit you? Your
story was fascinating and I would like to have you clarify some
points to satisfy my curiosity. I want your side of the story because
I have received conflicting reports on some aspects of your
life."
The recruiter marveled at Doc's academic record.
"Don't be so impressed. In our school system more than eighty
per cent of a grade is based on memory, it doesn't indicate the other
important qualities of a good student." The recruiter changed
the subject. "Tell me about Doc's disciples."
"That's
an early version of McCarthyism. It was a depreciating name some
people used to misdescribe a group of students who were searching for
the truth. After the 'Monkey Trial Revisited' some students wanted to
know how I arrived at the conclusions I expressed that day. After I
told them what they wanted to know we never met again. They were
never my disciples." Doc mumbled.
"When did you break
with the religion of your family?"
"At my grandparents
farm I had to go to church every Sunday and prayer meeting every
Wednesday night. They read verses every night before bed time.
Something happened during one of those events, I don't remember which
one, I can only remember I was disturbed and I didn't know why.
When
I was twelve, I read grandfather's Bible, that only increased my
disquiet. I had a heated discussion with them, during which, my
problem became apparent. My church family kept telling me Jesus was
sweet, the Bible was consistent and complete, and God was steadfast.
Yet the verses they kept repeating didn't support those conclusions.
I confronted them with the contradiction that bothered me the most
and the only answer I got was, 'You don't have to go with us
anymore'."
"What a terrible response. What was the
contradiction?"
"How could God kill those who disobeyed
and yet give the Israelites the commandment, 'Thou shall not
kill'."
"Pretty good for a twelve year old."
Doc
fell asleep, when he woke he continued as if nothing had happened.
"Later, I found more than one version of the Bible, I read as
many as I could find. That didn't help, it only added to the
inconsistency. I discarded the religion of my family and began a
search for a replacement. It was a futile attempt, the more I read
and learned the more it became evident, religion is a matter of
belief not logic. It could neither be proved nor disproved and
religion shouldn't be used for logical purposes, hence the error of
many debates, like the Scopes trial.
I still become agitated when
one of three points are brought to mind. First, Jesus is sweet, I
never found a verse to support that statement. At best, Jesus was a
bitter pill to swallow and at worst, He was a vehemently hated
enemy.
Second, Jesus was a pacifist. Most of my church family held
that belief. My grandparents frequently said to me, 'turn the other
cheek Doc, turn the other cheek', they completely misunderstood those
verses. Everyone concentrates on what Jesus told us to do and no one
considers what we are not doing when we follow His advice. When we
turn the other cheek, we cannot retaliate. To me that's the most
important part of the message. If you don't retaliate, most fights
will end. To end a fight, one of the combatants must absorb the last
blow. Jesus gives us even better advice, in that, we should make the
first blow the last one.
Third, Jesus was an activist. Only a few
of my church family believed Jesus was an activist. But unlike Jesus
these modern day activists are attacking sinners. Jesus didn't attack
sinners, He ate and drank with them. Jesus attacked the
self-righteous.
He showed how the priests and scribes were to
concerned with the letter of the law and ignored the spirit of the
law and how the spirit of the law was far more important. Many times,
He made His point in an unkind manner. To me, Jesus was more than an
activist, He was an antagonist. He forced people to examine their
values, to make a decision." Doc fell asleep again.
Of all
his foibles, Doc was aware of only one, indignant self-righteousness.
He was very aware, he carried on a constant battle with it and lost
most of the time.
When he woke the recruiter continued. "What
about the tabloid report, 'Doc hates Jews'?"
"What a
beaut.
Talk about writing a story about a statement taken out of
context and then not quoting it correctly. That one sure takes the
cake.
I was participating in a panel discussion on sex education
when a man from the audience said, 'remember the holocaust'. The
statement was so incongruous, I lost my temper and shouted 'I don't
want to remember the holocaust, it was to gruesome and I hate the
Jews for reminding me of it.'
The next day a tabloid front page
read 'Doc hates Jews'. The following day the others carried the same
story. The first tabloid would not print a retraction, but the others
did. I don't hate Jews, I don't hate anyone, I hate ignorance. The
words 'the' and 'for' were very important to the meaning of my
statement.
I don't want to be reminded of the holocaust and I
didn't know what made me so angry, but in that split second during my
out burst it came to me, it was stupidity. If we are continually
reminded of the holocaust and never reminded of the error, the
holocaust will be repeated."
"What error." Doc
mumbled and the recruiter repeated his question and Doc tried
again.
"The error of allness. It's the most common error we
make. We limit and simplify to much. When someone speaks, that's All
they had to say, when we read something that's all there is, and if a
solution is presented, that's all there is and if the solution is
accepted,
'ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS ....'
The German people accepted Hitler's
statement that the Jews caused ALL of Germany's problems. His
solution was, 'All we have to do is eliminate All the Jew's. Unless
people are made aware of the error of allness, the holocaust will be
repeated.
Now, when someone repeats that stupidity, I immediately
translate it to 'remember the error of allness' and I can keep my
self-righteous indignation under control and I don't get angry. My
blood pressure went up when I remembered that incident and caused me
to mumble." A glazed look spread over Doc's face. The recruiter
waited and then asked, "When did you get your self
confidence?"
"When I was selling newspapers. I had just
won my first fight with one of the bigger boys, one who chased me
away from any corner I chose. I was feeling pretty good about myself
when a punk, who was trying to impress his friends across the street,
took one of my papers and refused to pay me. He put his hand on my
head and said, 'What are you going to do about it little man?'
The
big ape turned to see if his friends were watching. I ducked under
his hand, kicked his knee cap, and moved out of his reach. He started
for me, but the pain in his leg stopped him. When he put his hands on
his knee, I kicked the other knee cap. He switched one hand to the
other knee. I went around behind him and kicked him in the crotch, he
fell. When he didn't move, I took his wallet out of his pocket, took
a bill from the wallet, made change, and put his wallet back.
Lucky
for me his friends were still on the other side of the street,
laughing very hard, I didn't think about what they would do and
didn't check until I heard them laugh. Some friends, they didn't even
come across the street to help him, they walked away, laughing. The
punk groaned and cursed me between his groans, 'I'll get you if it's
the last thing I do.' I walked to another corner.
I've never
doubted any of my abilities, since. I made a vow to myself, I would
never be controlled by anyone, any organization, or any
thing."
"Didn't anyone pay any attention to what had
happened?"
"No. I even sold some papers before I left
that corner, the people just walked around him."
"Did
you ever meet him again?"
"No."
Eve walked into
the room. The recruiter got up, "I'll talk to you later,"
and left. Eve took Doc's hand and Doc fell asleep. When he woke the
recruiter was sitting next to the bed, "Where's Eve?"
"You
slept a long time, she finally went to get something to eat. Tell me
another part of your story until she returns."
"What
part?"
"How did you get into the construction
business?"
"One of our men was dating the daughter of
the owner, he married her later, but that is beside the point. During
their courtship, he learned her father was a gambler and owed a lot
of money to the mob. He confronted his future father in-law who
nervously told him the whole story.
He liked to play the ponies
and he went to the track when ever he could. He won a little money,
not enough to make up the money he could have made if he had been
working, but enough to keep him gambling.
A bookie approached him,
'You don't have to go to the track, all you have to do is call me and
I'll place your bets for you. If you win you don't have to do a
thing. If you lose you will have to pay the loss plus ten per cent.
Since you're a winner, you don't have a worry. You can work and still
play the ponies.'
It sounded like a good deal to him so he placed
his bets with the bookie. It worked very well the first three
months." Doc paused for several minutes. "He won more than
half the time.
Then the bookie suggested bets, they were winners,
too. He had a streak of bad luck, the bookies picks were his only
winners, but not enough to cover his losses. His losses were small,
but he couldn't pick winners.
The bookie said, 'Just bet my picks
and you'll be back in the black in no time'. He did and over the next
three months he was a net winner each day and each day the winnings
were bigger. The bookie said, 'Increase your bets'. He did and he won
even more, so much more he was making more money on the ponies than
at his business. He started placing his own bets again as well as the
bookies picks and the money kept coming.
The bookies picks started
to lose, 'Bet smaller amounts on my picks until I can pick'm again'.
He thought that was good advice so he followed the bookies advice.
His bets kept winning and the bookies picks kept loosing, now he had
a small net loss each day. He increased the size of his bets. He
couldn't explain it, but he still bet the bookies picks. Then his
bets began to lose and soon he was loosing on all his bets. Instead
of cutting back, he increased the size of all bets in an attempt to
recover his loses.
'That's a good idea, you're so far ahead your
luck will surely turn before you lose it all. His luck didn't turn
and before long he owed more than his business was worth. He didn't
know what to do, he knew the bookie would be asking for his money,
soon.
Our man discussed the situation with the acquisition
committee and they came to a solution. If the owner agreed not to
gamble any more and would continue to manage the business, the
organization would buy his company for the amount of his debt and the
accounts payable department would pay the debt. The owner agreed to
the terms and signed the papers with a sigh of relief."
"I
suppose that company became very profitable, too."
"Yes,
as the manager, he did all of our remodeling and new construction, he
did excellent work. When other people saw his work, he received more
and larger jobs."
"Did everything your organization do
turn to gold?"
"No." Eve returned. "Well, I
have to go, but I'll be back."
As soon as Eve held Doc's
hand, he became incoherent. The recruiter only came when Eve was
eating or taking a nap. The next time the recruiter came, Doc asked,
"How did you learn so much about me? The questions you have
asked imply you know a great deal about me."
"Some of
your people work for us. They all recommend you. Very highly, I might
add."
"My own people?"
"Don't sound so
surprised. Your people work for others and report to you. You have
people at city hall, in the police department, in every hospital, and
many other places, even at the state capitol. Why would you not
expect the same?"
"I guess you're right."
"As
your organization grew, the crime rate in the city fell, was that a
coincidence?"
"Not exactly, our bank took customers away
from the loan sharks and because we had an investment in the property
that served as collateral, we provided the protection, that
eliminated another racket. As long as our people were so active in
the neighborhood, it was only natural that we handle all the betting,
too.
Since, only a healthy customer is able to pay back a loan or
a bet, we had an interest in the well being of the people. If our
people working in the neighborhood found someone was ill or had a
mental problem, they were quickly encouraged to visit the clinic so
our medical staff and counselors could help before a problem got out
of hand." Doc drifted off, the recruiter could barely understand
the last sentence and left.
Eve was with Joe and as they began to
tell a story, 'The Recruiter' entered, he politely excused himself.
They said, "You know a lot about Doc and it's obvious you want
to learn more. You might find this story humorous."
A wealthy
patient complained to Doc, "My husband gets mad after we have
sex and yells at me and calls me names. 'You've had sex with another
man, yesterday, I can tell'."
"Hog wash."
He was
a stereotype macho man, he claimed he could make any woman he wanted
and he did. "I can tell if a woman is a virgin, they're the
best." He bragged about his conquests to anyone who would
listen. He especially enjoyed telling his wife, but his wife had
better not look at another man. She did, she was that type of woman,
like the one in the old joke about the golfer.
After a round a
golf, playing as a visitor, he showered and didn't pay attention to
the locker room he entered. After his shower, he was about to return
to the locker room when he heard women's voices. He realized his
mistake and knew he had to do something fast. He debated, should he
cover his body or his face with his towel. If he covered his face,
they wouldn't be able to recognize him. So he gathered his things,
covered his face, and left for the men's locker room.
Each woman
in turn, said, "That's not my husband," except for the last
woman of the foursome. She said, "He doesn't even belong to this
club." That was the type of woman she was, if you belonged to
the club and paid attention to her, you could have her.
"I
would like to shut him up."
"Would you
really?"
"Yes."
"I remember reading a novel
as you told your story, here's my plan." She agreed with
enthusiasm, she could hardly wait.
Doc invited her husband to a
weekend at the mansion and had dinner with him when he arrived. Doc
barely finished introducing himself when the man began to brag about
his conquests. Doc led him on until made the same claim his wife said
he made. Doc challenged him, "I'll bet you can't." His ego
wouldn't let him back down and Doc didn't give him the opportunity to
back down gracefully. Doc egged him on until he said, "I'll bet
you ten thousand dollars." He was baited and Doc sprang the
trap.
"You can prove it right now. If you agree, I'll make
the arrangements after dinner." He agreed, he had to.
After
dinner Doc made the arrangements and rejoined him for desert. After
desert Doc took him upstairs and introduced him to twelve women, from
sixteen to thirty six. All were the same size, each was wearing the
same long dress and shoes and the same perfume.
He took him into a
bedroom, "Check anything you like, I want you to be completely
satisfied with the arrangements. The room is empty and has only one
door." He turned off the light, "There's enough light to
move around the room from a small red light behind the desk, but not
enough to recognize anyone. If you turn on any other light you
forfeit the bet. Here is a padded platform to cover her upper body, I
don't want you to see or touch her any more than necessary. She can
breath easily and you will not be to uncomfortable."
Doc
asked the women to go into an adjacent room and placed a screen on
the opposite side of the bedroom door, with a chair behind it. "Sit
on the chair. Tell each woman something special, that only you and
the woman will know. She will not talk to you." Doc got a woman
and took her into the room and came out, "Go to her."
From
the chair, he could see shoes and the hem of a dress, he knew someone
went into the room and later someone came out, that was all. When he
came out and sat on the chair, Doc went in and got the woman and
exchanged her for another. After the third woman, Doc said, "Had
enough."
"Yes."
"Stay on the chair."
Doc removed the screen. "Tell me which one was a virgin, which
one was the oldest, and which one had sex yesterday."
He
paused, he knew Doc had set a trap and he knew if he said one was a
virgin and she was not, it didn't matter if he answered the other
questions correctly or not. He doubted that Doc could get a virgin to
participate in the test, but then, Doc was a powerful man.
"I
know what you're thinking and your pause told me you don't know,
otherwise you would've answered without hesitating."
"They
were all very good, but they can't all be virgins. I have to admit, I
can't answer any of your questions."
Doc asked the women to
come out and go downstairs. "Count them." Doc watched his
face, he looked puzzled.
"I counted twelve, who did I have
sex with last?"
"A better question would be, who did you
have sex with all three times?"
You should've seen the look
on his face when his wife walked out. "I didn't know you had
that much stamina, honey." She and Doc laughed out of
control.
"You tricked me, you tricked me."
After Doc
brought himself under control, he said between chuckles, "No, I
didn't, you tricked yourself by making such stupid statements. You
couldn't even tell she had sex five minutes before.
You see, the
sexual satisfaction anyone receives is their own. Your partner can
detract from it, but can not add to it. Satisfaction, pleasure, pain,
happiness exist only in our brains and nowhere else. It's internal,
not external.
That's why it's just as important for a man to be
ready as it is for the woman. If a man wants satisfying sex then he
had better make sure his wife is ready, when he is. That's his
responsibility, not her's."
His wife told him the three
special things and they laughed again. He joined them when it finally
dawned on him how absurd, he had been. They went down stairs for an
after dinner drink, arm in arm. He told the story at the bar and
joined the laughter. Later when everyone had quieted, "How do
you want your bet."
"You have been so gracious about
loosing, you don't owe me a thing, I've never laughed so hard in my
life."
He never bragged and he never accused his wife
again.
At her next check up, she threw her arms around Doc and
kissed him, "I can never thank you enough. My love life is so
improved, it's like having a honeymoon all over again."
'The
Recruiter' left to check on Doc, chuckling to himself.
Doc was
alert and the recruiter asked, "You mentioned your second
acquisition before, but you didn't mention your first, did it have an
influence on the crime rate, too."
"Well, yes."
"Tell
me about it. How did it develop after you first met the girls?"
"You
know about that, too?"
"Yes, come on, tell me."
Doc
reluctantly told him, "After the pimp died, Joe took over his
responsibilities. I kept them clean and educated them as much as
possible and Joe taught them how to talk and act. Joe moved the girls
into high priced hotels and bars. He took one or two girls into a
hotel bar and if any man showed an interest, Joe took him aside and
made the arrangements. When he found escorts for each of them he got
one or two more. Joe handled all the money, the girls liked that, it
was more like a date. The self deception helped them have a better
image of themselves and their attitudes improved.
We provided the
girls with protection, that's why Joe was in so many fights. At
first, I didn't realize what was happening. After I taught him how to
fight, he asked me to help. By the time I was in college, we had a
dozen girls, contacts in many bars and hotels, and many regular
customers. We eliminated six very mean pimps and cleaned up a small
fraction of the city."
Doc became incoherent and fell asleep.
When he woke the recruiter was still there. "Tell me about the
second time you saved Joe's life. He told me his version the other
day, when he was feeling better. I want to hear your side because he
didn't know what you did."
"I didn't save his life, I
prevented his premature death."
"OK. OK. Tell me the
story."
"Joe asked, 'Keep me company, I have to meet
some people at an old warehouse near the water front.' When we
approached the warehouse, 'Wait at this end, while I meet them at the
other end. I'll only be a few minutes.' He was more than a few
minutes. I went in the back way, if everything was OK, I could leave
the same way I came without anyone knowing.
There was just enough
light for me to see my way between the crates. As I approached the
other end I could hear threatening voices. The end of the aisle was
blocked by a large crate set diagonally between the rows, that
allowed me to get closer without being seen. I peered between the
crates.
Two men held Joe's arms in a hammer lock while another man
beat him. Another man out of my sight asked Joe, 'Are you ready to
talk.' Joe wouldn't or couldn't talk.
'Can I hit him? Can I hit
him again, boss?'
I moved to the left of the crate, the boss was
leaning back in a chair with his hands behind his head keeping his
face in the shadow cast by the reflector on the only light in the
building. I turned sideways, raised my right hand above my head, and
inched my way silently between the crates. When I could go no
further, I lowered my upper arm. When my forearm cleared the crates,
I let my elbow rotate, allowing my fore arm to fall like the strike
of a cobra. I squeezed his adam's apple as hard as I
could.
Instinctively he struck out and hit the crate. He lurched
forward and tore himself from my grip. When he couldn't breath
normally, he panicked. He put his hands to his throat and fell to the
floor wrestling with himself. The commotion distracted the others and
they slackened their hammer locks.
Joe freed his arms, grabbed
their collars, and let himself fall, two heads crashed together.
Before they recovered, Joe disabled the one who was beating him and
then dispatched the other two. Joe didn't know where I was until I
came running around the other end of the aisle and back to where he
was. He grabbed my arm and pulled me out the door."
"Was
he the first man you killed?"
"I didn't kill him, he
killed himself. He hyperventilated when he panicked, other wise he
would've survived."
"Did you or anyone in your
organization ever kill anyone?"
Doc thought for a while,
"Yes, I can recall one incident very well," and told the
following story, punctuated by incoherence and falling asleep. The
recruiter asked him to repeat until he received the entire story.
The
brother of one of our men was killed in an auto accident. Our man
went to visit his widow, Candy, three months after the accident at
lunch time. Shortly after he arrived, she received a phone call from
a man claiming to be a friend of her husband, "I have to see
you, I'm having difficulty with your husbands death, I just have to
see you."
She didn't recognize his name and she thought she
knew all of his friends, all had come to the funeral. "No, I
don't want to see anyone now, maybe later."
"I
understand, I'll be over in a few minutes that will be later, OK,"
and he hung up. Puzzled, she walked back to the patio to finish lunch
and told her brother in-law.
"I heard most of the
conversation, he will be here within five minutes. I'll stay on the
patio out of sight. Here's what I want you to do. Don't worry."
Candy
was upset, but when a six foot four, two hundred plus pound brother
in-law says, "Don't worry," there is a tendency to
relax.
The door bell rang and Candy answered it. A frail good
looking man about five years older than Candy introduced himself,
pushed the door open, and walked in.
"My, what a large
apartment you have you won't mind my staying here a few days, will
you. I'm between jobs and I need a place to stay."
He walked
into her bedroom, placed his suitcase on the bed, "Would you
take what you need with you, you can sleep on the couch, my back
won't take a couch, and I don't like to be disturbed when I'm
sleeping, you understand, don't you.
Of course, you could sleep
with me and we'd both be more comfortable."
Candy couldn't
believe the man's audacity, but she did as her brother in-law said,
"We'll take care of that later."
"Well be a good
little girl and fix me something to eat.
I understand you have
received your husbands life insurance. I have a wonderful place to
invest it, we'll go and get the money out of the bank after we eat
and I'll invest it for you."
As Candy walked to the kitchen,
"Why don't you go out on to the patio while I fix something,
I'll bring it out."
"What a splendid idea," and he
walked out on to the patio. Then Candy went into the bathroom and
locked the door. When the man stepped out on to the patio, he saw her
brother in-law sitting to one side, "Candy and I would like to
be alone, would you mind leaving?"
Her brother in-law stood,
"I was just leaving."
He walked to the patio door, but
instead of leaving, he closed the door. The con man asked, "What
are you doing?"
"I forgot my manners." He walked
back to the table and pulled out a chair, "Take this seat it has
an excellent view."
"Well, thank you very much."
As
the con man began to sit, he slid his left hand into the con man's
left arm pit and pulled up and to the right. At the same time he
pivoted like he was throwing a right cross. The heel of his right
hand hit the con man just above his right ear with all the force he
could deliver. The sound was slight as the con man's neck broke.
He
let the body slump into the chair and went to the phone. When he
received an answer, "Code black," and gave Candy's address.
"You can come out now, Candy, but don't go on to the patio."
He
went to the bedroom and searched the con man's possessions and put
them back into his suitcase and put the suitcase next to the door.
When a truck came, "Would you go to the bedroom until we
finish?"
"OK. Candy, let's finish our lunch. Everything
is OK."
Doc stopped talking and the recruiter shifted
uneasily on his chair, "What a story, but how did you explain
his death to the authorities?"
"People die every day at
the clinic. We called the police and the coroners office and filled
out the paper work. We put down 'accidental death' with no current
address and noted he had thirty thousand dollars in his suit case. We
kept the body and turned his possessions over to the police. They
found a log book with all of his victims and even potential victims,
so at least one woman got some of her money back."
"That's
enough for now. I'll see you later."
Return to Doc Table of Content
A steady stream of people came to visit
the second week of waiting and hoping. Eve spent more time with Joe.
She held Doc's hand for five minutes, visited Joe for awhile, and
returned to Doc. The initial shock was wearing off and being in the
hospital reminded her of a story. She mentioned it to Joe, Doc had
told him the story, too and they told it to each other. 'The
Recruiter' stepped in to say 'hi'.
"Has he said anything to
you?"
"He hears me, but doesn't recognize me and he
ignores me, he talks to the ceiling."
"Now that you are
here, stay and hear another story."
Joe and Eve agreed, it
was ironic, funny in a way, and displayed the contrary nature of Doc.
Contrary because Doc preached every chance he could about not having
sex outside of wedlock and not having unwanted children, but
according to Joe Doc held the worlds record for both.
The dean of
the nursing school met with the dean of the medical school to discuss
a very serious problem. After the formalities, she said, "You
have to do something about that man."
"Who?"
"You
know who."
"Why?"
"We had a class of
fourteen student nurses, now we have seven."
"Why?"
"They're
pregnant and all made the same request, to leave school at the end of
the semester. They wouldn't name the father, they didn't have to,
after they told their story, I knew who the father was. They didn't
want to marry him and didn't hold him responsible.
You know we
keep the students apart during training. A student nurse dared
another to get a medical student to kiss her. She lured one with a
false message, she didn't succeed, but the next time she did. Then it
became a bet she couldn't do it again. She did, but let him stroke
her arm as well as kiss her. She said, 'I felt very calm and
peaceful, I wanted him.' She couldn't remember what happened next,
but she knows she asked him to have her, she pleaded with him, she
even said, 'Please.' She met him in the dirty linen room, after
school, in the halls, anywhere.
She challenged the other student
nurses, 'I'll bet you can't let him touch you and walk away.' The
others laughed and said, 'It'll be easy, he's so ugly.' All seven had
the same experience and they convinced the rest not to try.
Obviously, if all seven were pregnant, they had sex more than
once.
When I confronted each girl, they admitted to not only
having sex more than once, but to several times each week. When I
asked, 'How could you?', each girl said the same thing. They
cooperated, one or more stood guard while another was with him, in
the dirty linen room, the janitors closets, the clean linen closets,
empty rooms, room that were being cleaned, you name it."
"You
can't be serious, I don't believe it."
"Well, I didn't
either, but when each girl told me they stopped wearing slips under
their uniforms so he could easily slide his hand against a bare
waist, which each one claimed put them in the seventh heaven, I
decided to check for myself. If you don't believe what I've told you,
you won't believe what I'm going to tell you.
When I asked
questions, I received very little response, but enough to cause me to
change my questions. Then I couldn't believe the answers, until I
witnessed it myself. The nurses, the aides, and the students nurses
all told similar stories. If a patient didn't respond to sedatives or
was hysterical, they got him to touch the patient and the patient
relaxed.
I followed him and saw it several times. Once, it was a
burn patient and I could not believe what I was seeing. The patient
was in extreme pain and after he touched him, even I could see the
patient relax."
There was a long pause. "OK, I'll see
what I can do."
The dean wondered if he could observe Doc,
without his knowledge. The dean didn't have to wait long, it happened
by chance. He was showing some dignitaries the hospital and as they
entered the pediatric ward, they were greeted by the sound of a
screaming child. A professor and five students were making rounds. As
the professor left, he turned to the floor nurse, "Would some
one give that child a sedative." He left the ward with only four
students and didn't hear the nurse say, "We gave him one and he
didn't respond." Suddenly, the child became still.
The dean
walked quickly to the partition and looked around it to find Doc
stroking the child's bare stomach and talking to him. He walked just
as quickly back to his guests, guided them into a room, and waited
for Doc to leave. Doc didn't see the dean and left to join the
others. The dean checked the child. Everything was normal, he
couldn't find anything out of the ordinary and the child was asleep
before he finished. He repeated an earlier statement to himself,
"What do we have here? What are we going to do?"
He met
with the nursing dean and Doc's adviser. They thought of as many
solutions as they could and discussed them, they were all wanting.
The adviser said, "We must remember, he is enrolled here, but he
is not the student, we are. We aren't teaching him, he is teaching
us. He has read all of our publications, our procedures, he knows our
methods. He is using us to perfect his own techniques and correcting
our mistakes while doing it. I know he doesn't want to graduate
early, he claims he is still learning. He probably is, but not from
us. Our options are limited."
They decided to have the
adviser talk to Doc and the nursing dean talk to all females, both
student and staff. From now on, no female was to let or encourage Doc
to touch them at any time in any manner. The adviser told Doc what
had transpired at the meetings. He asked Doc not to touch any staff
or students. He could touch patients when following procedures.
Doc
agreed and added, "Everyone is reading to much into what has
happened. I don't have any special power, I just help people relax
and I can't say 'no' to a woman."
Eve said, "I can
empathize with the student nurses, in fact I can empathize with all
of Doc's women. When I was withdrawing from heroin I couldn't feel
Doc's power, but as the addiction lessened, the power of his touch
increased. He massaged my arms and legs to help my circulation, he
could have had me any time he wanted. He never tried and I never
asked, until I was as recovered as I was ever going to be and I knew
I was in love with him. His touch communicated, 'I know what I'm
doing. I will protect anyone in my care', so completely, it was over
whelming.
During withdrawal, he told me about his problem with
women. At first I was jealous, then angry, and then sorry for him. He
told me, 'I never try to attract women. I don't understand why they
come after me. I have analyzed my actions, but I can't find the
cause.'
After I had worked with him and knew him very well, I
realized he was telling the truth. He did not take advantage of any
of his women. He, just, could not say 'no'. He said, 'Men were not
built to say "No" to a woman. I know I'm an extreme case,
and it's probably the weakest flaw in my character. I did the only
thing I could do, I tried to educate them.'
I confronted him many
times about his power and he always said, 'The other person relaxed
because I touched them, it has nothing to do with me, anyone could
have done it.' He would not believe me when I told him how he
affected me. He dismissed what I said with, 'You're in love with me,
that's why you respond the way you do.' Doc would not believe he had
a special gift and by denying it, he would never abuse it."
'The
Recruiter' shook his head, "That man has had more women than
anyone I have ever heard about," and Eve added, "yes and he
will have more." Joe chimed in, "Have Doc tell you about
the iceberg," and laughed. 'The Recruiter' said, "I'll see
if he is a wake.
After the recruiter entered Doc's room, his first
words were, "Tell me about the Iceberg."
Doc almost
laughed, "You have been talking to Joe, it's a private joke. He
would say, 'You could thaw an iceberg', and laugh.
I had several
cases of frigidity and they all turned out the same way, much to my
dismay and Joe's amusement. I don't know what I did to change the
women. I gave each one a routine physical and counseling. I can't
recall doing anything different than I did with any other patient.
But, here's the story."
I was invited to speak to a women's
club. Afterward a very wealthy woman said, "When you have time I
would like to talk with you."
"I have time right
now."
"I want to donate to your clinic. I admire the
work you are doing for unwed mothers."
"Thank you."
"If
you had an office in a more fashionable location, I would like you to
be my doctor. I will not go to the clinic in the neighborhood. I'm
very concerned about confidentially, I don't want anyone else
present."
Her offer was so generous I couldn't refuse. She
was my first patient in my new office. I called her, "You can
come anytime you like and I will be alone." Her first
appointment was to get acquainted, I didn't examine her. She had
difficulty talking about her problem. She relaxed a little when I
said, "Your problem was not a common problem, but it was not
uncommon either."
She was afraid her husband would have sex
with another woman if she didn't get help soon. Divorce was out of
the question. Both were from wealthy families and he owned and
operated a large bank. Images were important to both of them.
He
was wounded and discharged in the first year of the war. Both were in
good condition and both were large people, she was six foot and he
was six five, she was one eighty and he was two twenty, neither was
fat. They married late, she was twenty five and he was thirty. She
enjoyed their courtship. They were both virgins, both naive. She was
a happy bride, everything was going according to plan. She had
trouble continuing, I got up and moved toward her.
"Please
don't touch me," and cried.
"Would you rather wait and
finish your story another time?"
"No, if I don't tell
you now I will relive it all over again as I am now and I don't want
to do that."
"Lie on the couch and try to relax."
She
did and I pulled a chair next to her. I leaned forward with my elbows
on my knees, my hands clasped together in front of my face. As she
struggled to continue, she raised her hand in front of me. When she
let it fall, I caught it and stroked her fore arm with my other hand
before she could react.
She relaxed and told her story. "I
was raped on my wedding night during an aborted kidnapping attempt.
We couldn't identify the men or their car. We were both so ashamed,
we decided not to tell anyone, we carried on as if nothing had
happened.
All went well until I was alone one night. I thought I
heard someone outside my sitting room window. The thought occurred to
me, 'Those men were never caught and they might try again.' I checked
outside, but I couldn't see anyone.
I dismissed the thought, that
night, but it kept coming back, even when I was with someone. I
became more and more paranoid. I avoided all contact with men. I was
frightened by every sound at night and I didn't go out alone. I hired
a personal secretary to keep me company and to go with me at night. I
could continue a normal life style without requiring special
arrangements that might cause suspicion.
Slowly I with drew from
my husband. I had sex less and less, and then not even kisses or
caresses. I knew I had to do something, my husband was irritable and
sullen. But I couldn't tell my story to anyone, not even my minister.
My maid must have sensed that something was wrong from the beginning,
but it took her a long time to get the courage to approach me.
I
dropped something when I heard a strange sound and she must have seen
the terror on my face. Finally, she confronted me, but I couldn't
tell her my story. She told me to talk to you, you could put me at
ease. She was one of your patients and recommended you, very
highly.
After I saw and heard you talk with the women at the
meeting, I knew she had given me good advice." She paused, "Why
would I reject my husband, it was not his fault."
"We
don't know why the brain does what it does. Obviously you and your
husband carried on as if nothing happened and that prevent you from
grieving your loss and without grief you cannot heal. Something DID
happen and you need to come to terms with it. Every woman expects her
man to protect her and yours didn't, one of your expectations was
destroyed, even if it was unrealistic it is a normal
expectation."
"Yes," she said calmly, "Something
did happen." The intensity of her voice increased almost to a
scream. "I was raped. I was raped on my wedding night." Her
whole body heaved with each sob.
I continued to stroke her arm and
she relaxed. "The physical act is not the most damaging part of
rape." She stopped crying and looked at me quizzically.
"Every
person wants to choose their mate, that choice was taken from you
that night and only that night and you can never get that night back.
That's what hurts the most. You did get that right back."
"I
thought it was the loss of my virginity to some one other than my
husband that caused the most damage."
Now she was calm and
analytical and wanted to know why.
"I don't know, but I feel
that people and society place the wrong value on virginity. From what
I've been able to conclude, virginity has the value we place on it,
where as the expectation of protection and the right to choose are
innate values. Virginity guarantees, you will not have unwanted
children and certain diseases. Learning and experiencing sex together
for the first time, I feel, is the most important value of virginity.
Obviously your husband was able to ignore the fact that you were not
a virgin and from what you have told me, he has also respected your
right to choose."
There was a long moment of silence, she was
thinking and reevaluating. She sat up with a start, threw her arms
around me, squeezed me very hard, and held me for a long time. She
relaxed and I returned to my desk. "Thank you."
"You
will need some time to finish the grief process, but remember you
have your protection and your right to choose back. When you become
paranoid, think about it and see if it helps. Also, no one can
protect you all the time."
"I'm aware of that, but
that's an intellectual, not an emotional conclusion."
"I
would like to check you to make sure there are no organic problems.
Would you be willing to come another time for a complete
physical?"
"I'll check my calendar and make an
appointment." She did and she was in excellent physical
condition.
"Remember to be patient with yourself, it will
take time to heal, you are making progress."
"I agree, I
do feel better. I have someone I can talk to, but I'm still uneasy at
night."
"Hire a security service to keep an eye on you,"
and of course I recommended our people.
"I've missed
something. Why did Joe use the word iceberg?"
"She was
big compared to most women, rather than being an ice cube, she was an
iceberg."
"OK, now tell me how you thawed her."
"I
don't know, but here is the rest of the story."
She called
and made another appointment. I didn't think anything about it when I
saw her name on the schedule. I assumed she wanted to talk some more,
that's not what she had in mind. I thought she would be in my office,
she was in an exam room. When I entered, she was alone. I told her it
was standard procedure to have an nurse present. "I told her to
leave. Examine my abdomen, please. I think I have a lump." I
slid my hand under the exam gown. "More to the left, now down,
more to the right, up a little."
"I have examined your
entire abdomen and I don't feel anything, you have nothing to worry
about."
"I hired a security service, I sleep better and
I feel much better."
"I'm glad to hear that. Anything
else, before I leave?"
"No, but can I come again next
week?"
"Come as often as you like until you feel you
have recovered. We can talk about anything you would like to talk
about." Her next appointment was the same, except she wanted me
to examine her abdomen twice before she was satisfied. "I'm
sleeping with my husband and he has returned to normal." Her
next appointment was the same and she said, "My sex life is very
satisfying. I don't know how to thank you." Her spirits had
definitely picked up. Her next appointment was very different. It
started the same way and I humored her, I examined her abdomen three
times.
She caressed me and I didn't move away fast enough, she had
not tied the exam gown, she threw it off, wrapped her legs and then
her arms around me, and pulled me to her. In a demanding tone, "I
want you, here and now, right now." Then sugar sweet,
"Please."
I was in trouble, I tried to talk, but she
kissed me. I put my knees against the base of the exam table for
leverage and tried to put my hands on her shoulders to push her away.
She tightened her legs and pushed my hands down on to her breasts.
She unbuttoned my coat and shirt all the while saying, "Please,
Doc, Please."
"Who told you the magic word." She
released her legs and with a sly smile, "I'll never tell."
I
capitulated and took off my clothes. When she was satisfied, she
asked me to stay and listen while she washed and dressed. I did.
Before she left, "I will be back next week. Please don't fight
so hard next time."
"I think you should find another
physician."
In a sweet feminine tone, "No, you will see
me again, won't you?
Please."
She had me, I, just can't
say no to a woman, especially if they say please.
When I left the
exam room, my staff was no where to be found. I went down the hall
and a nurse came out of a room and turned my direction, but as soon
as she saw me she reversed directions. Another came through a doorway
and she also reversed directions, but I caught a glimpse of her face,
she was trying to hide a smile. I went to the reception area and I
could hear them giggle. When they saw me, one covered her face with
her wrist and another faked a cough. She handed me the file for the
next patient, trying very hard not to smile. Now wasn't that a nice
thank you, my own staff was conspiring against me.
"That's
not how Joe tells it. He says they more than conspired. How long did
this continue with the iceberg?"
"It took me three
months to convince her she didn't need me and I could not keep up the
liaison. She kissed me several times before she left. Two months
later she made another large donation to the clinic. She still comes
for her annual check up, but she doesn't ask for my services any
more. I'm thankful. I still don't know what I did to turn her on. She
sure was a hot potato."
"You had similar cases?"
"Yes,
several and they all progressed the same way."
"I heard
more than several and it involved your own staff, too. Is it
true?"
"Boy, you sure do know a lot about me. If you
know so much, why are you asking questions?"
"I want to
hear your side as I've said before. What about your staff?"
"They
took turns at each office. They even had a calendar, I discovered it
by accident one day."
"You have to be kidding? How many
women did you have each day?"
"Three or four, some times
five."
"What capacity. How could you keep it up?"
"I
couldn't, literally. Some days the only way I could get the women to
leave me a lone was to tell them, 'I don't have anything left.' They
would feel me and say, 'Not today, huh?'
I don't understand why I
have this problem. I don't go after them, they come after me. I've
reviewed everything I did when I examined them the first time and I
don't know what promotes their amorous feelings toward me."
"I
know many men who would like to have your problem."
"That's
what they think. It's a nice thought, but that is all it is, a nice
thought. It's a reflection of a man's biological role. It's only a
small part of life."
"When did your problem start?"
"I
tried to determine that, too. To the best of my recollection it began
after I assisted with my first delivery."
"Do you mean
the woman in the cab? How did she find you?"
"She told
the cabby, 'I need help'.
When I came to her apartment she met me
at the door in her bathrobe. Her husband was at work and the kids
were asleep in the bedroom. She went to her bed at the end of the
living room, 'It's easier to examine me on the bed'. She removed her
robe and lay naked on the bed. She lead me through the same routine
as the iceberg. I was younger then and she didn't have to do much to
have me."
"How did you get them to stop?"
"I
tried to educate them about sex. I pointed out, 'You tell or ask me
to do what you want, why not tell or ask your husband to do what you
want.'
'I can't tell him anything.'
'Then move his hands to
where you would like them or at least move them away from where you
don't want them. If you are not ready, stall him, ask him to hold
you. The male ego has great difficulty with rejection, so avoid,
"NO," or any other negative word. If you have to say "No,'
make sure he understands you are not rejecting him, just his actions.
A woman doesn't like to be rejected any more than a man, but a woman
seems to be able to handle rejection much much better than a man.'
I
tried to explain that men do not know what a woman wants, even if
they think they do. A woman's sensitivity changes so often and so
fast a man can't keep up, a woman has to guide them in some manner.
If a woman doesn't learn how to guide her man, she is doomed to a
life of dissatisfaction.
I suggested phrases they could use and
showed them how to move their bodies. Most knew how to do it, they
were, just, not making the effort. The common excuse was, 'I'm to
tired.'
'You weren't to tired to do it with me.'
Slowly they
changed. They agreed, their men didn't know as much as they thought
and when they put some effort into it, they could change their
husband's actions or at least guide them.
'Remember, the male ego
makes it difficult for a man to accept the fact that he is a poor
lover. Don't tell him that, take the time to teach him subtly, after
all it's for your own benefit. You should be willing to make the
effort otherwise you only have yourself to blame'."
"You
won't admit that your touch had anything to do with it? Only the
women you touched responded that way."
"Not all the
women responded that way, only a small fraction. I can't believe my
touch had anything to do with it."
"Maybe only the
aggressive women responded, the others were passive, but if you had
tried they would have let you."
"That's another point I
tried to make when they complained that their men were always bugging
them. A women's natural response to a man is passive. The only way a
man can know what to do next is to try until you stop him. So
indicate what you would like. Sex is not a dirty topic, you can talk
to your husband about it. You can ask him to do what you would like.
More often than not he will do what you want because he wants sex
from you. For all his bravado, he wants you, not another
woman.
Remember, he will be ready the minute you remove your hat.
You will not respond that fast, so slow him down, until you are
ready. Try to think about love making with your husband beforehand
and do not tell him until the time is right, otherwise he will get
excited to soon and you will have a little more time to get ready
while he is becoming aroused. Contrary to what men think, they need
time, too. They, just, don't need the same amount as a woman.
Pay
more attention to what he does and be careful to distinguish between
what his ego is saying and what he is saying. You may have to live
with a man who has a male ego, but he has to live with it all the
time. The poor bastard doesn't even know what he is fighting
against.
Be patient with him, he is fighting a losing battle. He
will not be aware of why he does things, many of which will be
stupid. You will be bewildered, because you and he, think he is
rational. He will be mad if you do and he will be mad if you don't.
He will be, just plain frustrated because he cannot win the battle
with his ego or with his unrelenting sex drive, thank God, it cools
off as men get older. He will refuse to admit he is behaving
instinctively. He tends to think when he wants sex it was a rational
decision, when you want sex, you were following your instincts.
The
other side of the coin, when he wants sex, you will have a tendency
to think of him as a dirty old man and when you want sex, you will
think you are, just, satisfying your needs. So, be careful, don't be
judgmental.
Along this same line, men do not need as much sex as
they think and women need more sex than they think. The problem is,
men and women do not communicate well and if either makes a mistake
the result is embarrassment and neither wants that, so this further
inhibits the communication process."
Doc blamed our heritage
for most of the problem. He was thoroughly convinced that prior to
its influence, women did tell or at least guided their men and
mothers taught their daughters how to subtly communicate with their
men. "What a bunch of rubbish, the idea that nice girls should
not talk about sex, want sex, or enjoy sex, they were supposed to lay
there and not react during sex. I know most of them did and then had
guilt feelings because they were behaving naturally or because they
were denying natural responses. Either way they were losers."
Then
he went into a tirade about our heritage, the shear stupidity of it.
His face turned beet red and his blood pressure rose. The recruiter
did what he could to calm him down. When his color returned to
normal, the recruiter continued, "You still will not admit that
your touch had anything to do with your problem?"
"Come
on, I don't have any power." The recruiter walked away shaking
his head.
Return to Doc Table of Content
The next time Doc awoke, a doctor was
standing beside the bed. He said, "I have some bad news for you,
you are not progressing as well as we had hoped. We are going to move
you to another division of the hospital, to give you special
treatment."
"What about my friend Joe?"
"Your
friend is not doing well at all, I'm afraid we can't move him at this
time."
Two orderlies walked in to move the bed. When they
reached the hall, the recruiter walked up, "Where do you think
you are going, to the city for the hospital bed races?" An
orderly gave him the new room number and told Doc, "You'll be
there in a few minutes." The trip took ten minutes, down the
hall, down the elevator to the basement, down a long hall, up another
elevator, down a hall, and finally into to his new room.
It was a
private room, other than that, it was, just another hospital room.
Doc did not feel very well when the bed stopped moving. A nurse
asked, "Do you want something for pain?" When Doc
responded, "Yes," she smiled.
She returned in a few
minutes with a syringe and smiled as she gave him the injection. When
she finished the smile disappeared. Doc thought, "That's an odd
reaction," a fleeting thought, because instead of decreasing,
the pain increased. Almost to much when it began to subside.
When
the recruiter arrived, Doc felt pretty good.
"Eve is with
Joe, I'm afraid we're going to lose him, but enough depressing talk,
I would really like to know why you didn't graduate from medical
school. I heard it was because of an abortion."
"Just
look at what happened to me because parents do not ask the proper
questions of their children; therefore their children do not ask the
proper questions, they jump to conclusions, they assume they are at
fault. A parent should ask, 'What happened?', instead of 'What did
you do?'"
"What does that have to do with an
abortion?"
"Well, nothing to do with abortion, but
everything with what happened after an abortion. Let me tell you a
fairly long story.
Several weeks before graduation, Joe came to me
with a very special plea. He wanted me to perform an abortion on a
friend's girl friend, the circumstances were very unusual. His friend
was deeply in love with the daughter of a very important man. His
friend was poor, from the wrong side of the tracks, and from the
wrong religion. The girl's father forbade her to see him, if she did,
he would disinherit her and disown her. That did not stop them, it
only made their romance more desperate and passionate.
To
guarantee, they did not see each other, her father demanded, she
accompany her parents on a Caribbean tour. They were sailing the week
after school was out. She was in the third month as best she could
tell and she was hysterical about it. She was sure her mother would
know before long and her father would before the tour was over. She
was in a desperate emotional state. Joe was holding something back,
but he would not tell me anything more.
Reluctantly, I agreed,
after he said, 'Do it for me, Doc. Do it for me." I told him my
schedule, he chose the next night and made the arrangements. 'I'll
pick you up at eight.' The next night he took me to a second story
old office in the older section of the business district. The room
was dark except for a single bright light over the end of long table.
The light shade focused the light on the end of the table.
When we
entered the room I could barely see two people huddling on a couch in
the corner. As my eyes became adjusted to the dark, I saw a young
couple dressed in old clothes. I didn't recognize the man. She wore a
scarf over her head, covering her forehead as well as her hair, and
dark glasses, obviously, so I would not know who she was. Tears were
streaming down her face.
'You want this baby, don't you?'
'Yes',
she said very weakly, I could barely hear her.
'Then why are we
doing this?'
'I can't, I can't,' she screamed and sobbed out of
control.
'OK. OK.'
After she recovered a little, she stood and
removed her skirt and underwear. Her boyfriend and Joe lift her on to
the end of the table. She was very embarrassed and very afraid. 'Do
you want to know what I'm going to do?'
'No,' she screamed and
then more calmly, 'PLEASE, do it quickly.'
Her boyfriend put
pillows under her head and shoulders. He stayed by her head, holding
her hands and kissing her. Joe put a stand under her feet off to one
side and took one leg and move away to spread her legs. He held her
leg to make her as comfortable as possible. I moved between her legs
and before I began I subconsciously slid my hand over her abdomen.
She shivered and became very calm.
When I finished, I gave her
very strict instructions on what she could and could not do. Her boy
friend said, 'I'll stay with her as long as I can.' If the
hemorrhaging increased or if it didn't stop within a specified time
they were to call me, at any time, day or night. Joe said, 'We won't
call, I'll come and get you. I'm going to stay with them tonight, but
she has to go home tomorrow night. Nothing is going to go wrong, you
do such good work, Doc.' She said the same thing very confidently and
added, 'You were highly recommended.' Nothing did go wrong and I
never heard from them again.
Can you imagine my surprise when my
adviser called me into his office the day before graduation and told
me, I would not graduate. He was very agitated, he didn't want to
tell me why, but he had to. 'She was the daughter of the dean, how
could you?'
'What are you talking about? I know the dean's
daughter died as the result of a horseback riding accident. Everyone
at the university knew, the whole campus was in a pall, but what did
that have to do with me?'
'You have been accused of performing an
abortion on her.' I didn't say anything or show any emotion, he
continued. 'If it wasn't for her stupid boyfriend we wouldn't be in
this situation. When we did the autopsy, we didn't find anything we
didn't expect. It was a clear case of death by concussion. The blow
was so severe there was no doubt. We checked everything that might
suggest she may have passed out before she fell. Everything was
normal.
Everyone said she was OK, no one noticed that she was
anything but normal. According to the other riders she was feeling
fine and riding as well as ever. She and another rider were racing
and when they jumped a low fence, her horse stepped into a grass
covered hole. When the horse fell the motion catapult her into the
air. She landed on a rock almost completely covered by dirt. Six
inches in any direction and all she would have had was a stiff neck
and a headache.
Proceeding the funeral her family received
relatives and friends at their church. Her boyfriend was not allowed
in their home, but he felt less inhibited about approaching them in
their church. He was in an awful emotional state. As he approached
the dean, he kept saying, "It's all my fault, it's all my
fault." The dean asked, "How could it be your fault?"
"She
would not have bled to death if I had not agreed to let her have an
abortion."
"What are you talking about, she died from a
concussion."
The blood drained from the boyfriends face as he
realized his mistake, but it was to late. The dean nearly passed out,
not only had he lost his daughter, he had lost a grandchild as well.
He cursed his own bullheadedness.
When he regained his composure
he had to know for certain. He took me by the arm and led me to a
private room. It took me the better part of an hour to convince him
that we had not over looked anything and that everything was normal.
We didn't find any sign of an abortion. I tried to explain what he
already knew, to much time had passed between the accident and the
supposed abortion.
I will say one thing, if you did perform an
abortion, you did very good work, she healed quickly.
However; you
finally did it, you uncovered an idiot's mouth. I know many people
have covered for you, including myself, when you did not follow the
rules. But, no one can cover an idiot's mouth once it has been
uncovered. I don't understand it myself, but people will believe an
idiot even when educated and trained professionals can not support
the idiot's statements. An accusation has more life than reality. By
supposedly violating our code of ethics the dean will not allow you
to graduate.
Sorry, I tried, but I cannot do anything more for
you. You had a brilliant career ahead of you, what a sad ending.' He
sat and stared at me until I decided to get up and leave."
"What
did Joe do to his friend?"
"Nothing, Joe knew the whole
story before I had a chance to tell him. Joe couldn't go with him to
the funeral, but he made arrangements to meet him at his apartment
after supper. No one answered when he knocked, Joe walked in and
found him slumped over his desk, a pistol in his hand. His note was
long and incoherent, but its meaning was evident. He had bungled
everything and was so guilt ridden he could not face anyone."
"What
a tragic story, I'll see you tomorrow."
Within minutes, a
nurse came and asked, "Something for pain?" When Doc said,
"No," her smile turned to a frown. Again, Doc thought, "Her
reaction was odd," but he looked at the ceiling and fell
asleep.
When the recruiter came the next day, Doc was in a good
mood. He was out of traction and would receive a walking cast soon.
"I'm glad to see you feeling well. But, your story as tragic as
it was raised some important questions for me. The daughter's
statement that you were highly recommended implies you had performed
many abortions before that time. Is that true? If it is true, how
many, when did you start and why? I know you said you would not join
our organization and I said I would not give you a sales pitch, but I
still want you to join. You would be a tremendous asset to our
organization, but this question of abortion is serious. I would like
to know the whole truth. I guarantee everything you say will be in
strict confidence."
"I guess it doesn't matter,"
Doc paused and then answer without further hesitation. "Yes, I
have performed many abortions, so many I can not remember how many.
The first was shortly after I began living alternate days with the
girls. I was not their doctor then, but I became their doctor after
one of the girls had an abortion.
She was in bad condition, she
almost didn't make it back to the apartment, she passed out several
times. She would not get professional help. When she passed out
again, I told the others I would take care of her if they would help.
They were easily persuaded.
I had never seen the result of an
abortion. Who ever performed it, not only didn't know what they were
doing, the result of their work indicated they didn't care, money was
their only interest.
I did what I could and nature did the rest.
Slowly, she recovered. During her recovery, I talked with the girls.
It was obvious to me that they would not change their profession and
they would not carry a pregnancy to term. Every time, I said, 'You
are going against your very nature,' they replied, 'Would you raise a
child in our environment?'
I had no rebuttal. From my point of
view, I had little choice. I didn't want them to be hacked up by a
back alley abortionist again. Birth control was very primitive and
abortion was the highest taboo in the medical profession, I had
difficulty finding constructive literature. I taught them what little
I had learned about birth control. I knew their customers would not
cooperate, the girls had to do it on their own.
When the next girl
wanted an abortion, she agreed to let me do it, I certainly could do
no worse than a back alley abortionist. I perfected my technique
during those years. The girls were very satisfied with my work.
When
I would not accept pay they insisted I take it out in trade. When I
refused they ganged up on me and worked me over. You would not
believe what they did, they had no compunction at all. Then one of
them said, 'Please'.
I had to have sex with at least one of them
every time I came to the apartment, they demanded it."
"Are
you sure it wasn't your touch?"
"Why do you ask that
question again? My touch had nothing to do with it."
"Return
to your story."
"I was not attracted to any of them, but
being a young man, I was more than willing to oblige. They hugged and
kissed me, they pat and pet me, they fondled me and unbutton my
clothes, until I got mad and told them I had to sleep.
They wanted
me to touch them and I didn't realize until much later that I wanted
to touch them, too. A bond had formed, I cared about them, they were
my girls. I wanted to protect and take care of them. I know it sounds
maudlin, but it was true. It was not a strong force, but it was
unrelenting, it was always present. I wanted to know about them, what
they were doing, what was important to them. I tried to help them, to
improve their condition. Looking back, I know now, they must have
recognized my concern right away. I was unsuccessful at trying to get
the girls to change their line of work or their life style. I was
successful in changing their conditions.
Only after Joe and I
changed their mode of operation, did they change. Once they had a
better self image, I could persuade them to get more education, it
was a slow process. It was easier to persuade them to change as they
grew older. Once they had sufficient education, they did change
occupations.
This is not only true of the girls, it's true of
everyone. Some how people get the idea that they are not 'Living'
unless they drive a big car, live in a big house and can spend their
life in idleness, sipping drinks beside a pool.
It's very
difficult to change this self-portrait of success. People need to
work. It does not matter what kind of work, just so they can tolerate
it. If you can enjoy your work so much the better. People can not
live a life of idleness, they will end up in straight jackets or
worse.
When people cannot reach their self-portrait of success,
many seek some form of escape, losing their self-respect directly or
they become pawns of the unscrupulous and lose their self-respect
indirectly. Once self-respect is lost, they are almost intractable.
I
found, by changing the girls attitude toward themselves, I had a
chance to make additional changes. Education was next, then life
styles, and then occupation. It was extremely slow, but it worked and
we made money in the process.
I don't know why it took me so long
before I tried the same approach on alcoholics and addicts. This
approach didn't work on all of them, only on the ones where their
self image was the key to changing their self portrait of
success."
"But, were you not breaking the law by
continuing their, 'occupation,' as you call it."
"No.
Laws are not made to be broken as some stupid people say, laws are
guide lines, so we followed the guide lines. We knew that if we
didn't keep control of them, they would be right back where they
were. We had to change something, so we changed their mode of
operation and kept control of them. Joe set up an escort service. The
girls never carried money and didn't accept money from their clients.
They didn't discuss sex or make offers of sex to their clients."
"Now
who are you trying to kid?
"No one. You claim to know a lot
about me, well how many of our girls were ever picked up by the vice
squad?"
"I have to admit, very few and they were
released very quickly."
"Because they behaved like
ladies and they did not disobey the law.
If they happened to have
sex with their clients, it was unplanned and spontaneous, and it was
not part of the original agreement between Joe and the clients."
"So,
you were on the slippery slope, huh? If you didn't do it, some one
less qualified would, is that the case?"
"Well, I
suppose so, I just couldn't risk having one of them die, needlessly
and I wanted to improve their lot."
"So you took
another's life."
"The way I look at it, being an
unwanted child is worse than death.
Are you aware that less than
one third of all unwanted children ever come close to being well
adjusted, most are basket cases. I figured the odds were in my favor.
Look at my life, the only reason I survived, was the innate tenacity
for life and a very strong self confidence. I was fortunate, I
learned that it was not my fault and I could change things, most
children never learn those two very important points.
Do you know
how many times I wished I was dead. When my parents died, I could not
grieve."
"Do you know what happened to your
father?"
"No. I never found out and no one in our
organization ever did either. He probably killed himself. He was
still very much in love with her even though he mistreated her badly.
That's another thing I could never understand. I knew even as a small
child that my parents were deeply in love, why didn't either one pay
any attention to the children that came out of that love? The only
time they paid attention to any of us was if they could gain some
material benefit from it. I just don't understand."
"That's
enough for now. I'll see if anyone in our organization knows what
happened to your father." Doc fell asleep before the recruiter
left the room. He awoke to the smell of wet plaster, they were ready
to put a walking cast on his leg. When they were done he could look
forward to moving about in a wheel chair, his condition was to
unstable for crutches.
Doc had plenty of time to think. What else
could he do and he couldn't think very well. He thought, "It's
odd, the only time I'm lucid is when the recruiter is present. Every
time anyone else is present, I'm incoherent or fall asleep. I do the
same with the recruiter, but at least most of the time I can carry on
a some what normal conversation.
Maybe the pain killer has
something to do with it." He asked the staff, 'What are you
doing, what are you using?", but they would not tell him
anything.
When they were done with the cast Doc fell asleep. When
the recruiter came, "Would you like to go to the court
yard."
"Let's go." On the way out, "Tell me
why your organization acquired the mansion, especially when you and
most of your people are so frugal. Did it have anything to do with
Middy?"
"It had everything to do with Middy. Eve
suggested the mansion as a solution to my problem with Middy. I tried
to get even with Middy for what she had done to Eve and for
embarrassing me many times over the years, but she won. I have to
concede defeat, she followed a superior philosophy, 'The best revenge
is to lead a happy life'. I followed, 'Don't get mad, get even. But
she won with Eve's help, two against one, that's not fair, especially
two women against one man, the weaker sex never had a chance."
"Then,
you have forgiven Middy?"
"Yes, but don't tell her that,
because I never will."
Doc was silent until the recruiter
prompted him. "Come on tell me the rest of the story."
"About
a year after Eve kicked the heroin habit, she called Middy. Eve had
recovered about as much as she ever would and she felt, she was
strong enough to meet Middy. She did it without my knowledge, she
told me she was going on a short vacation. I didn't think anything
about it and I told her to enjoy herself.
Middy arranged to meet
Eve at her parent's summer home, it was a very emotional meeting. The
two women embraced and cried for hours, before they brought each
other up to date. They sat on two small facing couches. Eve asked
Middy to tell her first, then she told her story to Middy. While she
was telling her story, Middy looked very closely at Eve. She could
see the shadow of death behind what little make up Eve was
wearing.
Halfway through the story the full impact of what she had
done hit Middy. She began to cry and the intensity increased as Eve
continued. When Eve finished, Middy was wailing on the verge of
hysteria.
Eve went to Middy, sat next to her, and let Middy sob on
her shoulder. When she calmed, "I forgave you long ago,"
and Middy started all over again.
For an hour Eve couldn't
understand a thing Middy said. Middy put her hands on Eve's shoulders
and held her at arms length. She looked straight into Eve's eyes and
asked, 'How can you forgive me after what I have done?', she cursed
herself. 'It was not easy, I had to forgive myself first for being so
stupid.
Doc tried to teach me how to get my self respect back,
among other things, and I came to the conclusion that I had to
forgive you in order to forgive myself. Doc did not agree, he was
vehement, he said I should get even and he would if he ever got the
chance. I could not convenience him, he was contradicting his own
logic. He would not admit he was making an error to reach his
conclusion.
Stay away from Doc. What ever you do, don't even come
close to him on the street.'
They spent the rest of the time
renewing their relationship and reminiscing. They met for coffee or
lunch once a month after their reunion."
"How did you
make contact with Middy?"
"I didn't, she made contact
with me. Meeting with Eve didn't help Middy. She went from
melancholy, to morose, to depression. She went to many doctors, had
many treatments, nothing worked. She heard about the AB treatment.
She decided she would kill two birds with one stone. She knew she had
to confront me before she could heal and maybe the AB treatment would
help. She made an appointment under an assumed name at my office in
the high rent district. She told the nurse, 'All I want is a
consultation on the AB treatment.'
She arrived late for her
appointment. The receptionist asked her to wait in my office and I
would be with her shortly. When I walked into my office she was
standing in a corner facing the wall. This was common I didn't think
anything of it. I sat at my desk and she asked questions. I told her
the danger and the strict requirements of the AB treatment and I
advised against it.
She said, 'I've tried many things and nothing
worked, I'm willing to take the risk.' Her perfume drifted to me and
I recognized it, but before I could confirm who she was, she turned.
She had been tactful now she was sarcastic. 'OK doctor quack, quack,
give me the treatment.'
I'm quite sure she didn't understand my
pleasure at that moment. Immediately, I got up and made the
arrangements. I didn't return to my office and didn't see her again
until a month later. The treatment was working, I could not let that
happen. I convinced her that she was in my power and I did everything
I could to disgrace her, to ruin her self image. I wanted to get
even, I wanted revenge for what she had done to Eve, for what she had
done to me. I wanted to destroy her, slowly.
I failed miserably, I
don't know where I went wrong. She became the happiest person I ever
knew. Eve would not let me kill her, but I had to do something, the
very thought of her made my blood boil.
Eve suggested we build a
retreat and keep her prisoner there. She would be out of sight and
out of mind, but still under my control. I didn't like the idea, it
didn't satisfy my need for revenge, but it would do until I could
think of a different approach.
The more Eve though about the idea
the more she liked it. She talked to the acquisition committee and so
did they. Unknown to me, they even put Middy in charge of the
project. Between Eve and the committee, they had Middy out of the
city the next day and I didn't see her again until the grand opening.
They formed a conspiracy against me, every time I mentioned Middy
someone distracted me, until I almost forgot her. Between them,
almost everything I did to Middy, was not only undone, they went to
the opposite extreme, they turned her into a very successful and
contented person.
The mansion was in operation for several months
before the grand opening, they wanted it running smoothly before they
brought it to my attention. I spent a very enjoyable weekend at the
mansion and Middy's parting shot, as I was getting into the big car
to return to the city, was, 'You still cannot forgive me, huh, doctor
quack, quack?'
All I could do was shake my head, I could not argue
with success. I could only compliment Eve and the committee on
another profitable enterprise. And that is how we acquired the
mansion."
"I have a feeling you didn't tell the whole
story but that's enough for now."
Doc didn't have any
visitors for a couple of days. Then the recruiter came frequently,
before lunch, after lunch, and after dinner.
"I get so caught
up in your story I forget what I want to ask you next, you don't mind
if I ask a question I intended to ask after the story about the
Iceberg?"
"You can ask anything you like, at any time.
I'm not going anywhere and I have a lot of time, ask what ever you
like. You know so much about me it doesn't matter what you ask."
"You
had so much sex out of wedlock, how do you reconcile it with your
personal philosophy?"
"I can't.
I consider it a
problem I have to deal with and some how solve and if I can't I will
rely on my faith that I will be forgiven."
"With all the
sex you had, surely there were children, what happened to them? Is
that why you established the clinic to take care of your pregnant
women and their abortions?"
"The reason for the clinic
is obvious. It provided a clean, sterile, and permanent environment
in which to work, I didn't have to carry everything with me and I
could have the best equipment available. At first, all abortions were
performed on the girls. Later, on women they referred to me. We never
encourage abortion, we provided counseling, we encouraged women to
have their babies. We even provide free services. If they didn't want
the baby, we arranged adoptions. Most abortions arose because the
women didn't want the baby and knew they wouldn't give it up if they
gave birth. Abortion was the last option.
To my knowledge, none of
the girls were impregnated by me. None of my women wanted to marry
me, except Eve, and all carried their pregnancies to term. When I
knew I was the father I insisted they use the clinic, but most came
of their own free will. No, the vast majority of the unwed mothers
were not mine.
The clinic provided a haven during the war as you
know for the girl friends of service men who didn't want anyone to
know. I didn't establish the clinic for my benefit."
"What
about your children?"
"Most of the women were married
and I had know way of knowing if I was the father. All my children
remained with their mothers. One service of the clinic is to help
anyone find employment, it is part of our philosophy of keeping the
neighborhood healthy. I provided for all my women, our organization
employed many of them."
"Even the student nurses?"
"Yes.
Our organization located as many as possible. We even helped them
meet potential husbands, another service of the clinic, one we didn't
advertise. Any unmarried person received that service whether they
asked for it or not. We subtly, got them together. Married people are
healthier and live longer, especially men. Again, it goes back to our
philosophy of keeping the neighborhood healthy."
"You've
had more contact with women than any man I have ever known, coupled
with your service as an inductee medical examiner, did those two
factors influence your opinions about men and women?"
"That's
an understatement, it is one basis for my opinions and conclusions
about men and women. You would not believe the level of stupidity in
the inductees. I have met many stupid women, but not even close to
the number and level of the inductees and they thought to man that
they were smarter than women. These opinions were reinforced by my
reading, training and other experiences."
"Did they also
have an influence on your opinions of Freud."
"No, they
only reinforced my earlier conclusions. By the time I read Freud, he
contradicted everything I had learned and experienced. I couldn't
understand why he was accepted so readily, without any checking. If
anyone had even questioned his conclusions, so many never would have
been misled for so long.
It wasn't Freud's fault, the sender is
responsible for making sure the message is received without error,
but the receiver is responsible for making sure the message is true.
As receivers, we are just to damned lazy. Everyone wants to be spoon
fed."
"I'll see you later, I have something I have to
do."
Eve came in a few minutes later and Doc fell asleep.
Return to Doc Table of Content
"How did you get a license to
practice medicine?"
"Joe said, 'I got you into this
mess, I'll get you out.' He did. There is more than one medical
school. Joe found one that would let me take an exam and graduate
with honors. They helped me with the licensing process and arranged
my residency at the colony."
"I assume you make generous
donations to the school."
"Why of course."
"Tell
me about the third time you prevented Joe's premature death."
"I
accompanied Joe and two of the girls to a small bar. The bar ran the
full length of the room with a row of tables on the other side of a
large aisle. Only one customer was sitting at the bar near the door.
Joe chose a stool near the center. I sat at a table behind him. They
had a drink or two before a man came in and sat at the far end of the
bar. He signaled Joe. Joe went and sat next to him and while they
were talking, the man near the door struck up a conversation with the
girls.
I pulled my chair away from the table and sat facing him.
He told and elaborate story about his shoes. He turned on his stool
and crossed one leg over the other so we could get a better view of
his shoe. I had my gaze fixed on his shoe when another man walked
into the bar.
Talk about serendipity. If I had not been looking at
his shoe I would never have seen the knife. He carried it low next to
his leg. I looked at his face as he walked quickly past me. He was
another pimp that Joe had fought and had taken his girls.
I jumped
up behind him, grabbed his hand just before he began his thrust at
Joe. His motion and mine caused his hand to move behind him. I
quickly pulled his hand to the side, grabbed his neck with my other
hand, and pulled him backwards. He struggled to maintain his balance,
but I kept him on the verge of falling.
Joe and the other man
turned. When they saw that I had the situation under control, they
watched. The man had a very large neck and my fingers didn't go all
the way around. He thought it was a stand off. He couldn't break my
grip and he couldn't get his other hand or his feet into position to
attack and he didn't think I could do anything either. He said,
'Sooner or later you will have to let me go and then I will kill
you.' I continued to hold him and he repeated his threat." Doc
paused.
"Well what did you do?"
"I killed the
stupid son of a bitch."
"Why? How?"
"He
triggered my self righteous indignation. I was mad, he threatened me
and he was stupid. He didn't know my fingers and thumb were on the
pressure points of his neck. You know my intolerance of stupidity,
even my own. I simply squeezed the pressure points harder. He never
knew what happened."
"What did happen?"
"I
restricted the blood flow to his brain. He passed out and I let him
fall to the floor. Joe turned to the bar tender and asked for a glass
of water. 'We'll take our friend out side and revive him.' Joe told
the girls to call the cabbie. We each took an arm and dragged him
out. When we got him out side I gave the man a drink."
"You
don't give an unconscious person a drink."
"You do if
you want to guarantee he doesn't live."
"What did you do
with the body?"
"We left him face up on the side walk
with water in his throat until the cabbie came."
"What
did you do next."
"That's a long and boring story, the
gist of it is, we supplied cadavers to the anatomy departments of
several schools. He was a perfect cadaver."
"Was this
another reason why you opened the clinic?"
"Yes. We
eventually had an arrangement with the coroners office. We filled out
the paper work and took it to them and we disposed of the bodies. It
saved a lot of time and the city a lot of money."
"And
you made money in the process. Is that how you disposed of all the
bodies?"
"No. Only the good ones."
"What
did you do with the others?"
"Dumped them into the
ocean."
"Is that why you had a yacht?"
"Part
of the reason."
"In your story involving Candy, your man
used the words, 'Code Black'. Am I correct in assuming that
transporting bodies was a standard procedure? How?"
"It
was very standard. We used in nearly every day. If no other code was
used in addition, our people used a furniture truck. They took the
shell of an old refrigerator inside a new refrigerator crate in with
them and brought the body out inside the old refrigerator shell. We
used different vehicles and carrying cases for different situations.
They returned to the appropriate building and transferred the body to
another case and vehicle until the body arrived at its destination.
To my knowledge our people never made a mistake and they were so
professional, no one ever question what they were doing."
"Why
did you have your own funeral parlor?"
"Sometimes we had
to have a funeral. Usually it was an indigent, who's friends wanted
to say their last farewell."
"Why did you have your own
cemetery?"
"A few wanted grave side services."
"Your
cemetery was small and yet it never became full. Did you dig them up
and then dispose of the bodies?"
"We never buried them,
they never left the funeral parlor. After the service was over and
everyone left the room, we uncovered an identical empty casket and
covered the one with the body and then invited the pall bearers to
enter and carry the empty casket to the hearse."
"Did
you bury the casket?"
"Not unless we had to. If we did,
we dug it up after everyone left."
"You sold the same
casket over and over. Very profitable. Did you use the same grave,
too?"
"We had several graves, spread out over the
cemetery, we placed metal retainers in them to keep the walls from
caving in and covered them with green metal covers. People walked
around them without giving them a thought."
"What did
you do with the markers?"
"As you know we only allowed
small flat head stones that didn't protrude above the grass. We told
people that it was easier to mow the grass. We placed the maker close
to where the grave side service was held and left it until no one
came for more than a year. Then we remove it and stored it in the
caretaker's warehouse. If someone came after we had removed the
marker we stalled them in some manner until one of the workers could
reinstall it, unnoticed."
"So, you sold the same casket
and lot, over and over again. Did you some how make more money on the
markers?"
"We sold markers, also. We turned them over
and used the back side if it was of good quality. No one ever turned
one over."
"Wasn't this dishonest?"
"No.
They received what they paid for, we just, didn't leave it in the
ground. Such a waste. I can't stand burying all that money."
After
a pause, "Where did you learn of this?"
"We have
our methods. Tell me about the tabloid editor. What did you do to
him? I know by know you did get even."
"The day after he
ran that story about me, there was a riot outside his office. Many
indignant people protested his story."
"You arranged the
whole thing."
"How could you say that, I had nothing to
do with it."
"I'll bet. What happened?"
"It
would not have happened if he had listened to the rabbi. The rabbi
pleaded with him to retract his story. The rabbi was present and told
the editor, 'That's not what Doc said and you know it.'
The editor
wouldn't listen. When the rabbi left the building shaking his head
the protesters became violent."
"That was the signal,
huh?"
"During the riot his offices and equipment was
destroyed and his people injured."
"That's why the other
tabloids retracted their stories so fast."
"The riot
probably had an influence."
"What happened to the
editor?"
"Our men helped him escape."
"How
convenient. Then what?"
"I talked to him and asked him
to retract his story. He wouldn't, he was a stubborn man. He said,
'You don't scare me, I've been in tighter spots than this and I've
always managed to get away. You don't dare do anything, I'm to well
known.'
I asked him again and he refused. I took one of our
special syringes and gave him his first and last A treatment. When it
didn't have any effect, he laughed and repeated, 'You don't scare
me.'
'I'm not trying to scare you, you have five days in which to
change your mind. You will be treated like a guest. You can go
anywhere and learn anything you like in the organization, but you
will always have at least one body guard for your own protection.
Some of our people might kill you on sight."
"That's not
true. Your people would not touch him without your consent."
"You're
right, but he didn't know that, he was stupid. He didn't understand
what I was doing, but he was eager to learn about our operation. I
could tell he could visualize the expose he would write.
First he
wanted an explanation of our personnel record codes. He had heard
stories about the 3W and 4W-D people and wanted to know what they
meant. I told him, 'In due time. Was there anything else you would
like to know.'
He asked to be given a tour of our organization. We
gave him a guided tour. He was surprised at how large it was and how
many companies were apart of our organization. Not even he, knew the
buildings next to the clinic belonged to us. We took him into the
second basement and showed him how we could move from the clinic to
the warehouse to the manufacturing building without anyone knowing.
We showed him how each one of our companies operated as a separate
entity. Most of our people didn't have routine contact with one
another, but they did meet at the mansion. He was very impressed with
the mansion and the yacht. He was also very surprised at all the
happy people and how loyal they were.
On the sixth day, he went
over our records. He wanted to know more about the clinic's birth
numbers. He had heard stories, 'If a woman had a delivery at the
clinic she was almost guaranteed a healthy baby.' At the end of the
day he confronted me. He figured out what most of the codes meant. He
knew now why the live birth numbers were skewed. He said, 'Your total
numbers seem normal; therefore you had to be switching babies between
the married women and the unwed mothers. The unwed mothers had all
the still births and all the abnormal babies. What a story that will
make.'
When I didn't offer an explanation, he changed subjects.
'I'm quiet sure you used your yacht to smuggle heroin into the
country.' Again, I didn't offer an explanation.
'How did you get
the yacht? Did a smuggler try to double cross you?'
'No, our chief
of security services, 'The Recruiter'. He and three others met them
at sea beyond the limit. After they brought the money on board, the
smugglers told them, "You're going for a long swim." 'The
Recruiter' said, "No, you're going for the swim." The
smuggler look at them in disbelief, "How can that be, you are
unarmed and only four against twelve armed men."
"You
have been careless, there are five of us and you are alone." He
turned to look where his men had been and they were gone. Naturally,
we commandeered the yacht.'
He changed the subject, but I could
tell, he was thinking, 'What a story.'
'I found many mob names in
your records and I'm quite sure the code, 'D' meant deceased. Another
code, 'P' meant patient, but what did 'E' mean, it was always
associated with a patient?'
'Euthanasia.'
'You mean, you killed
your own patients?'
'No, I didn't kill them. I assisted
them.'
'What do you mean?'
'All were terminally ill, in great
pain, I helped them die peacefully after the next of kin realized
there was no hope. I can't stand to watch my patients suffer. I think
keeping a patient alive only to suffer is ludicrous.
Do you call
that mercy? Do you call that humanity? I call it stupidity. Besides,
I don't like to waste time or other resources, needlessly.'
'You
wasted a life.'
'What life? It depends on what you mean by life.
When it is impossible to return to a quality life then we are not
alive. Just because we exist doesn't mean we are living. When we stop
growing, we become vegetables and we should be removed before we
putrefy the others.'
'How many people have you killed?'
'I
don't keep score. I'm not proud of it and I don't want to be reminded
of my self righteous indignation. Remember, most of the D's died from
natural causes.'
'Give me an estimate.'
'oh, about twenty,
personally. Our organization, I have no idea, but I would guess two
to three hundred.'
'Have you no remorse or regret?'
'Regret,
yes, I didn't have the chance to educate them. Remorse, no. How can
you have remorse when you squash maggots.' He was speechless. I
walked away and called it a day.
The next morning, I took him to
the security service training area. One of our youngest and smallest
men had brought an enforcer in the night before, the editor
recognized him immediately. We told the enforcer, 'You have one last
chance to get even.' He was eager.
The kid was sitting on the
floor in the middle of the room, when the enforcer was turned loose.
He charge at the kid and tried to hit or kick him. The kid evaded his
blows or parried them. After five minutes the enforcer fell on the
floor exhausted. The kid waited until the enforcer recovered and
before the enforcer resumed his attack, the kid looked at me, I
nodded. I made sure the editor saw our communication.
The kid
killed him with three blows. A quick chop to the temple stunned him.
When he put his hands on his knees to keep from falling, a kick to
the groin made him bend lower. A spinning kick to the head broke his
neck, he collapsed.
The editor blanched. He knew the kid was
toying with the enforcer, but he didn't realize how fast a man could
die without weapons. I helped his mental condition, 'You shouldn't
count the first two blows, they were just set up blows.' My people
had to support the editor, he was feeling ill.
We took him to the
tank, undressed him, and lowered him into it. He didn't resist. The
tank is like a small swimming pool without water, ten by ten, except
all the same depth, ten feet with padded walls.
I sat alone and
waited for him to recover. He laid, curled on the floor for a long
time. Finally, he began to stir, stood up, and looked up at me, 'I
will now answer your previous question about the "3W and 4W-d"
codes. When an addict asks for help, we help. When, all an addict
wants is another fix, we give him a fix, one from which he can never
recover. We put him on the AB treatment and label him '3W', that is,
Weak Willed Wimp'.
If he follows instructions and behaves himself,
he is treated as well as any other patient. We help him return to as
normal a life as possible under the constraints of the AB program.
Eventually, they could live anywhere they want as long as they follow
the rules of the treatment. But, as with any group, there are always
a few who will not follow instructions. They know more than anyone
else or they are determined to have another high, or the reason I
really love is they wanted to expand their minds.
Most of these
were affronted by my response, "If you are trying to expand your
mind by using drugs, you don't have a mind worth expanding, you
stupid jerk."
You see, I do know how to make friends and
influence people.
Well, the 4W-D's, were those kind of people. The
fourth W stands for withdrawal and you already know what the D means.
Some died quickly, some died in a week, and some lasted almost twenty
days. We put them in the tank so we could study them and experiment
with possible antidotes. In the tank they could not hurt us or
themselves. The other 3W's were allowed to sit in the bleachers and
watch them die. It did wonders for their attitude. The change was
almost instantaneous.
If any AB patient missed their next shot of
chemical, we did what we could for them, but if the symptoms had
started, it was to late. We let them have their choice, if they could
not, we made the choice for them. Now that describes your situation,
I have made your choice for you.' The editor was furious, he shouted,
'Stop playing games. Give me back my clothes and let me out of here.'
I yelled right back, 'I'm not playing games, you stupid bastard, I'm
going to kill you, slowly. You are next to the lowest scum on earth.
You hide behind a thinly guised veil of truth, when your purpose is
to deceive and destroy. Do you know how many lives you have ruined.
Well, I'm not going to give you a dose of your own medicine, I'm
going to give you a dose of my medicine.'
'I'll get out of here
somehow,' he said more calmly.
'How? No one knows where you are
and even if they knew I had possession of you, do you honestly
believe they could find you? And if they did, do you think my people
would let them in? You had a tour of our organization, you know how
we operate, and you know how well trained our people are.'
He sank
to the floor. After a long while he asked, 'Who is lower than
I?'
'Those who kill in the name of religion. They are so weak and
stupid and their religion is even weaker and more stupid. Like the
old proverb, the truly strong can afford to be gentle. By killing in
the name of religion they prove their stupidity and the weakness of
their belief and their religion.'
'Then you are weak, too.'
'In
a way, but not as weak as them or you, who attack in a way your
opponent cannot defend against. Your victims don't even know what
they did to offend you. They have no chance to change and most
importantly, NO chance to change you. You are so positive you know
the truth, the only truth, that you do not listen to the real
truth.
You also know I'm not stupid and everyone I have killed has
attacked me or threatened me and I gave each of them a chance to
change if I could. You know that.
I have given you many chances to
change, until yesterday. I asked you each morning at breakfast or
have you forgotten.
You are to stubborn and stupid. Did you think
I would let you live to write about me, after I let you read my
records, how stupid can you be?'
He slowly sank to the floor
again. After a pause, 'Will you tell me what to expect?'
'With
pleasure, it will increase your sensitivity and; therefore your pain.
First, your body temperature will rise and you will feel very warm
and you would remove your clothes if you had any, we saved you the
trouble. Then, you will have the DT's. They will begin quite calmly
and increase until you are completely incapacitated and then subside.
You will think you are recovering until the next withdrawal symptoms
begin.
Then you will understand what a addict goes through when
they can't get another fix. You will have a fever and you will feel
cold and no matter what you do you will still feel cold. In the last
stage you will exhibit all the symptoms of rabies. You will go mad.
You will attack your own shadow and we will give you plenty of
shadows so as not to disappoint you. You will even bite
yourself.
During each stage you will want food, but you will not
be able to keep it down. You will have the dry heaves about every
fifteen minutes and convulsions about every half hour. You will not
be able to sleep very long because your body will always be moving
and you will have cramps in all your muscles at one time or another,
they will come and go at will.'
'Can I have my clothes back?'
'Are
you cold?'
'NO.'
'Then what do you need clothes for, to
strangle yourself, now we couldn't allow that to happen could we?
That would be a sin.'
'What about something to sleep on?'
'You
will not be still long enough to stay on a bed, so why waste money on
something you will not use?'
'What about food and a toilet?'
'We
will supply all your needs, we will hose down everything each day and
make sure everything is sanitary.
There is a drain in the corner.
Use it if it makes you feel better. In an hour you will not be
concerned about formalities.'
'Where are you going? I thought you
would stay and watch and make sure I didn't escape.'
'I've seen it
before, believe me, five minutes is enough. But don't worry you will
not be alone, in a few minutes you will have an audience. The
bleachers on all four sides will be full. There are always some 3W's
who need an attitude adjustment. We have not had any volunteers to
teach the course in quite a while. I'm sure you will be an excellent
instructor.
I'm not concerned about escape. There is no escape,
you see, even if I were to let you go, there is no antidote once the
symptoms appear. It would be much better for you to remain here where
WE can take care of you.
I know you are being civil because you
think that some how it will all end as a bad dream or I will stop
playing this silly game. Well, it's not a dream or a game, I WILL get
even, I WILL have my revenge.
By the way, the fact that you are
not cold is the beginning and you should also know that the smaller
the amount, the longer you will last. You might even set a new
record. I'm sure you can appreciate that, you were always trying to
set new records with your tabloid, how many people could you destroy
in one issue, that was you goal. That along with your stupidity and
stubbornness, you deserve what you are going to get.
You will not
see me again, but I'm so glad you came to visit. We will do
everything in our power to make it last as long as possible.' I
walked out, to the pleasant sound of his screams."
"That
story answered a lot of questions for me. Were his suppositions
true?"
"Yes."
"Did you really bring in
heroin? What did you do with it?"
"At first, I used it
in a futile attempt to wean addicts from their habit, as I told you
before. Then we supplied the addicts with heroin until we could
convince them to shake the habit."
"That was against the
law. You told me, you didn't break the law."
"We didn't
break the law, the addicts did in abstention, they would have broken
the law no matter what we did, until we could convince them to start
treatment."
"You were on the slippery slope
again."
"Yes."
"Continue."
"We
enticed them to live in one of our apartment complexes. There we
could take care of them and supply their needs at a lower cost. It
didn't work. You have to let them fall all the way to the bottom
before they will consider treatment.
Our next attempt did just
that, we continued to entice them with the offer of cheap heroin so
they would live in our apartments. Once they moved in, we increased
the price, higher and higher until we exhausted all their resources.
Then we restricted their movement to prevent them from resorting to
crime. We channeled them into one of our enterprises. We hastened
their loss of self respect in every possible way in order to get them
to hit bottom as fast as possible before they lost their health
completely. Then we could start the recovery program. We were quite
successful after we perfected our program."
"They, like
the AB's were your slaves."
"We are all slaves, we just
don't think of it in that light. Yes, their addiction forced them to
follow our instructions, but we never pushed drugs on anyone."
"This
also contributed to the decrease in crime because it took the addicts
off the street. But, if I'm reading between the lines correctly, the
largest decrease in crime was because you literally eliminated the
mob, you didn't drive them out, you killed them and took over their
operations. Wasn't this the main reason for establishing the security
force and not the weak reason you gave me earlier?
Am I
correct?"
"Yes. The accounts payable department paid
them in full."
"Which operations did you keep, I know
you didn't keep them all."
"We only kept those we could
convert into legal operations."
"Don't you mean just
inside the law?"
"Your words not mine."
"Was
the editor Middy's instructor?"
"Yes."
"Well,
tell me what happened."
"Middy was required to watch him
for at least five minutes each day. He did set a record, he lasted
twenty one days. Middy was one of the lucky ones, she got to watch
him die.
You know the trouble with movies and television is that
people die to neatly, to cleanly, to peacefully. If they portrayed
death as it actually occurs, it would be shown once and that would be
the last of that."
"What do you mean?"
"Well
after his last heroic scene, we had to carry almost all of the
audience out of the tank auditorium. The stench was terrible."
"Come
on, come on, stop beating around the bush."
"Almost
everyone in attendance puked their guts out. That is the normal
response to an unexpected violent death. We had to hose down
everything and everyone."
"A job for the junkies, I'll
bet."
"Now you are starting to understand. There is
always work for everyone."
"Didn't the audience know he
was going to die?"
"No, we don't tell them, we don't
want them to be mentally prepared. Everyone thought he would
eventually complete the withdrawal and live happily ever after, you
know the all american fantasy."
"Do you have a problem
with death?"
"Sure, when I have witness it often or when
I have not prepared myself mentally before hand, all professionals
do. It's not only death, it's the suffering as well. Suffering
probably has more impact on the professionals because suffering is
only visible when we cannot stop pain. It's very difficult to watch a
patient suffer and know there is nothing you can do to prevent it.
A
doctor has a slight advantage over the rest of the staff. We can
concentrate on the pathology and be disinterested personally, but the
staff has to take care of the patient for a full shift, every day. We
hold short meetings to discuss the mental effects and what we can do
to off set or at least minimize them so everyone can keep their
sanity."
"What feelings about death did you have when
the man was strangling you on TV?"
"I was never in any
danger. You probably had the same image as nearly everyone else, me
screaming while he tried to choke me. That's what all the articles
and commentators said.
That's what happens when you see what you
want to see instead of observing. Think back, remember the picture,
was my mouth open or was it closed?"
"Why it was closed.
Then you couldn't have been screaming. You're right, I missed that as
well. Now I'm puzzled, what did happen?"
"The Men in
Black knew who was screaming, that's why they did as I signaled. When
he tried to choke me the pain in his wrist was to great he could not
squeeze. I grabbed his wrists, held them there, and squeezed them. He
screamed as I increased the pressure. If you look at the pictures
again you will also notice that his elbows are inside mine. I put
pressure on his wrists and caused his elbows to bend and then pushed
them and mine into his floating ribs. I bent back to increase the
pressure. The audience thought he was bending me backwards.
See
how easy it is to misinterpret what is happening. No one, but our
people were aware that a few seconds before he collapsed he had
stopped screaming and was struggling for breath."
"You
killed him, then?"
"No, but I contributed to his having
a heart attack. I really don't know."
"What about your
reaction when you have killed someone?"
"It's so
variable, there are to many factors involved. I respond just like
anyone else. I'm not special."
"What about the
editor?"
"He was a maggot, I can kill maggots and never
give it a second thought. That is one of our problems these days, if
you dehumanize a person you can do anything you want to them without
a twinge conscience.
Are you aware, that is how all primitive
people handle killing their enemies, they were not considered people,
so the could kill them with impunity."
"While we're on
the subject, I heard that some of your patients died happy, how was
that?"
"Some patients have their complete facilities
even while they are in great pain. They usually have great courage as
well. Instead of helping them die, I put them on heroin."
"Wouldn't
that make addicts out of them?"
"You disappoint me. That
is about the most ridiculous argument, I have heard. The person is
dying, what difference does it make."
"Why did you use
heroin?"
"Regulations, I have to account for all legal
drugs I use. I certainly was not going to report our use of heroin.
If you don't report, no one knows. Besides, it had the pleasant side
effect of allowing them to die happy."
"Return to Middy,
what did you do next?"
"She recovered in a couple of
days. I waited until she felt better, I didn't want her to feel to
good. I took her into an exam room and undressed her, slowly, so she
could anticipate each move. She was very uneasy, but she stood there,
she didn't resist anything I did. I slid my hands all over her body,
she shivered and became calm. I told her to lie on the exam table. I
gave her a thorough physical. I did the pelvic exam, last.
'Why
Middy, you're a virgin. What a facade, all this time. You're
something else.'
She gave me her, 'cat eating canary' grin. 'We'll
have to do something about that right now.' I stimulated her
clitoris. When she lubricated and moved involuntarily, I went into
her. She surprised me, when our bodies met, she was the most
passionate woman, I ever had. Sex with Eve was different, more
fulfilling, more satisfying, but that was later.
Right then I
realized the significance of virginity, not of the women, mine. My
bond with Dawn had been the strongest and so had been my pleasure.
She was my first woman. None of my other sexual experiences compare
to those with Dawn, and yet all were compared to those with Dawn.
As
I continued to think about it I became aware that this was true for
all first experiences, physical or mental. The first new shoes, the
first new dress, the first bike ride, the first ideas, the first
religion. The first experience may have been awkward or embarrassing,
but it was the first, it was the most important, the best or at least
it was remembered that way.
My mind raced, to reevaluate, to
recall past experiences, past observations and those that my friends
and patients had told me. The first experience becomes the most
important because the first experience becomes the yard stick by
which all other similar experiences are compared. It was very
difficult to replace that first yard stick even when something better
came a long.
Now, I was thoroughly convinced, that, those who were
virgins when they married had the strongest bonds, those who had sex
before marriage had slightly weaker bonds, those with a few different
sex partners had weaker bonds, and those who had many different
partners had the weakest bonds, all else being equal. There was a
tendency for their passion, enjoyment, and satisfaction to follow the
same pattern. I was brought back to the present by a nudge from
Middy.
'I don't know where you were, but you certainly weren't
here. We'd better get dressed before we get chilled.' While we were
dressing, 'I assume, I'm to be your personal prostitute. If that is
the case, I will be the best you ever had. Do what you want with me,
Doctor Quack Quack, I'll do it with pleasure. I want to live, I never
want to go into that tank, so do what you want with me.'
I did and
she did. Her smile was genuine. She actually enjoyed everything I
made her do. Instead of loosing her self respect, it increased. Her
confidence increased. Her ability to help me recover from a hard
day's work was extraordinary. I couldn't help myself, I couldn't
maintain my hatred for her.
I had to have my hatred to justify
what I was doing to her because I was violating all my principles
concerning women. I had to go into seclusion to revitalize my hatred.
I became very frustrated. That's when Eve intervened, she was afraid
I would do something worse than I had already done. She knew she
couldn't stop me, but she could divert me. She did."
"When
did you admit defeat?"
"A year after the mansion was in
operation, I entertained several contributors at the mansion. One of
them was an old family friend of Middy. She entertained him the
entire weekend, I asked her about it later. She said, 'Did you think
I would deny him the services of the best whore this side of the
Mississippi just because he was a friend of the family?' What could I
say. All I did say was, 'Thank you for another job well done.' She
responded, 'Thank you doctor quack quack.'
I didn't notice the
change in her tone until I contemplated the events of the weekend as
I rode back to the city. Her tone had changed so slowly I was not
aware of it. It was more than admiration, but I didn't know what it
was. I talked to Eve about it.
'Middy is in love with you, she has
forgiven you. Middy has been converted just like everyone else who
truly knows you. After she learned about you, she knew that behind
that ugly face and in spite of those violent reactions was a very
intense and caring person. She's trying to live up to your standards,
that's why she's striving so hard for perfection.'
I had to admit,
to myself, Middy had won. She had the mansion running like a well
oiled machine. Everything happened when it should and how it should.
I could find no fault with anything even the smallest detail. This
same spirit pervade the entire organization. I was so pleased with
their performance, I gave them gifts, new clothes, anything I could
think of that they might desire. They in turn donated or sold the
items to help the patients at the clinic or for some other charitable
enterprise.
Finally, I stopped giving them gifts and asked them,
'What would you like me to do?', and if I could, I did."
"Is
that when you became a philanthropist?"
"I was not a
philanthropist, they were, I was merely their agent. Give credit
where credit is due. Why do you think I was so humble at those
presentations, the ones I could not avoid. It was not what I was
doing, it was what they were doing. I started out trying to inspire
them and in the end they inspired me. Eventually I had to live up to
my own philosophy, my own standards. I really mellowed out after I
admitted to myself that Middy had won. Were you not aware of the
change?"
"Yes." The recruiter got up and left with
a sullen look on his face.
"That's odd," Doc thought,
but he soon fell asleep.
Return to Doc Table of Content
The next day the recruiter said, "I
checked the pictures of you being strangled on TV, to make sure my
memory was correct. It was and so were you, your mouth was closed. I
reread the articles and they all said the same thing, you were
screaming as he bent you backward.
I was able to find one picture
showing the position of your elbows. It agrees with what you have
told me. But after reviewing the incident again I would like to know
what you said that made him go berserk?"
"I refrain from
telling the story because people accuse me of being anti-Semitic."
"I
know, I know," the recruiter said, smiling all the while, "Eve
and Joe told me you are not anti any religion. You, just, think they
are all stupid and if they leave you alone, you will not attack
them."
"People believe everything they read without
questioning or checking to see if it is true and they sanitize it.
Religions are stupid because they don't have a formal procedure for
change."
"Enough caveat, I promise I will be
objective."
"The only reason jews are involved is
because of our stupid heritage. The whole problem arose, because he,
like the rest of us commit the error of allness. He believed the
bible, literally. That was all God had to say and it was all recorded
without error or bias. Even religious people can't record without
error or bias and certainly not everything.
The shear
stupidity.
This type of person becomes so involved with what has
been written that they completely miss the message. What has been
written was written by men, not God. God knows our state of
evolution, God knows we go out of our way to make everything fit what
we want to believe. God knows we can not handle God's logic, so God
has been telling us to try to understand the spirit of the message.
God does not want our rituals, ceremonies, or celebrations, those
things are for us, not God. God wants us to try to understand The
Message.
The second coming is already here. It occurs for each one
of us when we realize that God is with us now, always has been,
always will be. God has communicated with us, is communicating with
us, and will communicate with us. Have you listened, are you
listening, will you listen?"
Doc paused, "These stupid
fools, they have eyes to see and ears to hear, but they only see what
they want to see and only hear what they want to hear and they don't
understand what they do see and hear. They don't use their brains to
understand The Message.
What do they think we have brains for, to
weigh us down, to keep us from floating into space?
A nation of
idiots. What other nation promotes stupidity and ridicules
intelligence. As a nation we don't know the meaning of wisdom, we
aren't even at the second level.
Our country is unique in the
history of the world, but everyone is trying to beat the system. If
we spent half as much time making our system work, what a country we
would have, instead we are pissing it away."
In a continuous
stream of venom, Doc cursed the stupidity of it all. He had started
in a very gentle tone, but as he continued he became louder and
louder until he was shouting. At first he was talking to the
recruiter, but as he progress in his tirade, he was talking to no
one.
"I didn't expect this from you. I've had enough,"
the recruiter said with a snarl and left.
The next afternoon, the
recruiter took Doc outside to have some sunlight. The hospital was on
the north side of a large circular park, contained by an outside
perimeter sidewalk with a smaller circle side walk half way to the
center. Two straight side walks divided the circles into quadrants.
Where they crossed from north south and east west was a small cement
circle twice as wide as the side walks. A small gentle rise ran east
and west just south of the center.
The recruiter took Doc to the
top of the rise, it was a pleasant place, the entire park could be
seen. They exchanged pleasantries and the recruiter said, "I
Would like to try again, do you think you can remain calm and tell me
the rest of the story without another tirade?"
"I think
so, I'll try." Doc paused, "He became angry when I
questioned his word as authority because he was quoting what was to
him the ultimate authority. He said, 'All I need to know is here, it
tells everything God has said and everything that God has done.' He
held his bible toward me.
'Is your God so small that everything He
has said and done can be contained in one book?'
He quoted the
verses about eyes to see and ears to hear. I said, 'People like you
make me laugh, you only see and hear what you want. You can quote the
verses, but you don't understand. God would not use words limited by
our understanding. God would use timeless words, not dated words, if
He did, He would have us update the bible as we learned. Since
neither condition is met the only conclusion I can draw is that the
bible was written by men. I will be very parochial about it, I don't
know about your God, but my God would never make a mistake like that.
There are many similar errors in the bible.'
'It's the word of
God.'
'It may contain some words of God, but it has to many errors
to be the word of God. Modern research indicates that portions were
not even copied faithfully, but people like you are not willing to
recognize the short comings of men, even holy men make
mistakes.'
'You're wrong, the bible is consistent and
complete.'
'Consistent? Let's start right at the beginning. When
does your day begin and end?'
'At sunset.'
'You'd sure make a
good straight man.
In the beginning there was no light so how
could anyone tell how long a day was.'
He stammered and was
unintelligible.
'Don't tell me, we made God in our image and He
took out His swiss pocket watch and called it a day after twenty four
hours.'
He became very angry with my juxtaposition. He became even
angrier when I said, 'I know it's not complete because I wrote
it.'
He yelled at me, 'Blasphemy.'
'Well, look who did write
it.'
'What do you mean?'
'Look at what is going on in
Israel.'
The papers and TV were full of the latest blow up there.
He knew what I meant because he and several others were talking about
it as they walked into the auditorium. I had overheard part of the
conversation and repeated a question he had answered to see if he
would be consistent.
'Do you believe anything either side
says?'
'No.'
'Did you believe either side in 1973?'
'No.'
'How
about the fifties or sixties or 1947?'
'No.'
'What are you
driving at?'
'Well, they're not a fine wine, they don't get better
with age, do you think either side has changed during the course of
history?'
Now he was very angry again, 'Tell me what you're
driving at.'
'Well, you claim to have read the history of one side
and you told me you believe them and just now you told me you didn't
believe either side. How can that be? Either you believe them or you
don't. Which is it?'
'What are you talking about, I haven't read
the history of one side.'
'Yes you have you keep quoting
it.'
'What do you mean?'
'Who wrote the bible?'
'Men of
God.'
'They were jews. Jesus was a jew. The old testament is their
history. You know they haven't changed, their history is replete with
the same things over and over and it is happening again and you just
told me you didn't believe either side.'
That's when he went
berserk. I forced him to face a logical contradiction. He probably
reexamined all he kept sacred in that split second. Obviously, his
belief would not tolerate the slightest hint of doubt. In that
instant, I forced him to destroy the basis for his belief and his
whole world came crashing down.
Instead of rethinking and
reevaluating, he lashed out, murder the messenger, it's a common
human response. It takes to much effort to do what should be done.
It's easier to remain where we are rather than grow and change. I
understand his reaction, I've been there myself.
He pulled pistol
from his brief case and came after me. I don't remember what I said
after that except for the last sentences, just before I knocked the
gun from his hand, I asked him, 'Have we met before?'
'Yes.'
'With
the same result.'
With a snarl, 'Yes, and God told me to kill
you.'
'That's your ego talking. God never told anyone to kill
another.
Are your words so weak that you have to kill to defend
them?' He hesitated for a fraction of a second that was all I
needed.
"Were you afraid?"
"If I had been
afraid, do you think I would have been discussing theology with him?
He was so shook up, if he had fired, he would have hit me only by
accident. That's why I signaled my men, they knew what to do to
protect the other people."
"Your story is something
else."
"That's true, but it's an illustration of the
many errors we make. Most people are not aware that their religion
doesn't contain a procedure for change, they don't want it to change,
they want something unchanging in this ever changing life. Sad,
because then the only way change can occur is by death and
destruction.
I often wished I had learned to be wiser much earlier
in my life, it took to long. Since that time, I have been more
careful about chopping down other people's trees. We need our trees
to keep us afloat on the sea of life. That's why he went berserk, I
led to the destruction of his tree, he was drowning and lashed out at
me.
Everyone grows their own tree. We water it, feed it, and tend
it all of our lives. Each tree must have its share of sunlight. Some
trees stop growing, other need pruning, other remain bushes. If the
forest becomes to crowded, some trees will be stifled.
In the
shadow of our trees we have peace, all our questions are answered.
When night comes everyone climbs into their tree for protection. Our
trees are our shelters when a storm comes. Everyone sees the sun
through the leaves and branches of their tree. Everyone likes to
listen to the wind blow gently through their tree.
Some people
look at another's tree and some climb another's tree. Some may prune
or tend their tree differently after looking or climbing another's
tree, but most just return to their own tree. Only a few trees are
tall enough for a person to see the rest of the forest. Some may
climb high enough to see sun more clearly than others, but no one
leaves the shadow of the forest and ventures into the plains where
the sun shines unobstructed.
Now some take pleasure in shaking or
chopping down another's tree. I don't understand their pleasure. What
good is the lumber, what can be built with it? If you shake a person
from their tree, what kind of fruit do you have? When a tree is being
shaken, we cannot care for our tree, all we can do is hang on
tighter.
If our tree is chopped down, we must find shelter
somewhere else until our tree regrows. If to many trees are chopped
down the soil will be exposed to erosion. If the soil is protected by
neighbors, new trees will grow. If the soil is removed from growing
trees, they will lean for lack of support. Some will become sick and
some will die. When a storm comes, the sick, the dead, and the
unsupported trees will fall against the others. The other trees must
be strong to withstand the weight. Only trees with strong roots can
hold the soil in place and prevent the forest from complete
destruction."
"That's enough," and the recruiter
wheeled Doc back. But Doc continued, "Just look at this country.
Do you know of any other country that makes fun of intelligence? Wise
people get even less respect. How can we educate people when one of
the goals of education is to promote intelligence and wisdom. There
is no incentive to obtain these goals. If a person achieves those
goals, they get little or no help from the general public and then
they are ridiculed. The problem is that Stupid thinks educated people
should not make any mistakes. What a bunch of jerks. The sheer
stupidity." He repeated himself several times and went into
another tirade about stupidity all the way back to his room.
The
next day began the same as the previous day except the recruiter took
Doc over the small rise to the far side of the park next to a small
lake. He chose a bench near the water. He pushed the wheel chair
along side the bench so both had a view of the lake. They sat
watching the wind blow small ripples across the water.
The
recruiter jumped up, "We have to return." He pushed the
wheelchair faster on the return. Doc could see someone signal,
briefly, from the top of the rise and then disappear behind the rise.
As they crossed the outside perimeter sidewalk a strange image
appeared to Doc. The shadows on the buildings made them appear to be
sharp spikes and the inside circle sidewalk appeared to blend into
the east and west buildings and the north south side walk into the
center building, forming a trident.
The illusion disappeared as
they crest the small rise and he could see the rest of the sidewalks.
When they reached the center cement circle the recruiter pushed Doc
into the northwest quadrant, but he failed to push the wheelchair
completely off the north south side walk, one wheel was just over the
crack.
"I'll run ahead and find out what they want and return
to get you."
Doc was feeling good so he didn't mind. He was
content to wait for the recruiter rather than wheel himself. He
enjoyed the green grass, shrubs, and trees. It was the best day since
the accident. Shortly after the recruiter disappeared another figure
approached him. There was something about his gait that made Doc's
hackles stand up. As the figure came closer Doc could see that he was
dressed in black leotards and black patent leather shoes. He had a
small pointed beard. Now, Doc recognized the feeling, he was
rebelling to the man's arrogance, everything about him, exuded
it.
When he was very near Doc, "What are you doing blocking
my path? Out of my way." He shoved the wheelchair to the side,
almost tipping it over.
Doc had never hated anyone so intensely,
so quickly. The man underestimated Doc's long reach. Doc lashed out,
hitting his knees, sending him sprawling. Doc was a sitting duck as
the man got up and attacked, but again he misjudged Doc's
capabilities. Doc grabbed his fist, twist slightly, and redirected
it, just enough to cause him to trip over the foot supports and land
on the edge of the sidewalk.
Doc held one wheel of the chair as
the force of his blow spun the chair around, ending up facing him.
The man got up slowly and as he turned toward Doc, Doc could see some
blood on his chin to the right of his beard and some blood on his
right knee, visible through a tear in his leotards. "Do you wish
to make it three out of three?", Doc said angrily. His blood
pressure was up and his bald head was a deep red.
"I've
wasted enough time on you already," and walked away as if
nothing had happened, just as arrogantly as before.
The recruiter
came running as the other man disappeared over the small rise. "That
was not very smart."
"I know, my male ego, it prevents
the mind from working, it never crossed my mind that I might not have
the strength to continue or that I might reinjure myself."
"That's
not what I meant, that was my leader. While you have a clinic, he has
many hospitals, you have an organization in the city, he has them in
every city in the world. He has much more power than you. You do not
realize what you have done."
He didn't say another word until
they reached Doc's room. The recruiter was very upset, "I though
I had better wait until you were back in your room before I told you,
we lost Joe." He continued before the shock hit Doc. "Eve
will be gone a few days." Doc said very weakly, "I
understand."
Doc was unaware of what happened next, he was so
depressed about Joe, he didn't respond to anyone or anything. All he
knew, was he hurt, he hurt all over. He didn't know how long he was
that way when his mind began to respond. He awoke to the sharp gab of
a needle, a nurse was giving him 'something for pain.' He fell back
into a comatose state. The next time he was aware, he knew he was in
a different room. Doc recognized the recruiter as he elevated the
head of his bed. He could see some of the staff flitting by the door,
they were all smiles. One came in and gave him a shot, she was
smiling.
He thought, "That's odd, I don't remember the staff
being so happy," and he mentioned it to the recruiter. He said,
"You were moved to the special case wing of the hospital. First
you were in the admitting wing, that staff was at the first level of
training, next you were in the general care wing, that staff was at
the next level. Here, the staff has had special training."
"I
don't remember the admitting staff ever smiling and the general staff
only smiled when they gave me 'something for pain.' Here they're
smiling all the time."
"You smiled more when you
finished training, it's the same for them. Changing the topic, would
you like to talk about Joe?"
"No."
"I'm
afraid, I have more bad news for you, I have another assignment and I
don't know when I will see you again. Are you sure you won't join my
organization?"
"If that man I met on the park sidewalk
was your leader it will be a cold day in hell before I would even
consider
joining your organization."
"I was afraid of
that, although I hoped you would let me give you one last sales
pitch, I won't bother now. You're a stubborn man. I'll see you some
time later. Bye."
He didn't wait for Doc to respond. Doc had
never felt so depressed, Joe was gone, Eve was gone, and now the
recruiter was gone. He was an enjoyable stand in for the rest of his
people. Come to think of it, where were the rest of his people, he
couldn't remember anyone besides Eve.
A wave of pain racked his
whole body. While it lasted, he couldn't think. As the pain subsided,
his mind cleared. Then another wave of pain. It lasted longer and was
more intense. His mind didn't have time to clear after it subsided
before the next one hit, even more intense. Doc passed out.
Doc
could hear some one asking him questions, but his vision was blurry.
Slowly, a male form came into focus. He repeated his question, "Are
you sure won't change your mind?"
"What are you talking
about?" Doc drifted off, but not before he heard him say,
"Nurse, when he wakes up give him another shot." When he
woke the next time, "They wired me to a monitor."
A few
minutes later a nurse entered and gave him another shot. The pain
returned almost immediately. 'Some thing for pain' took on a new
meaning for Doc. He swore the shots caused the pain. Again the pain
came in waves, again he passed out, and again the male figure asked
him the same question. Only this time, Doc could make out the
question, it was, "Will you join our organization?"
"What
has that to do with you?", Doc asked incoherently. Then, Doc
noticed an IV in his hand. The figure responded, "The IV is so
we can administer the mental reconditioning medicine at a steady
flow."
"What does that have to do with my joining your
organization?"
"You are a stubborn man," he
released the clamp and let the IV flow. The pain was steady now. He
returned after what seemed like an eternity and asked the same
question and received the same answer. He increased the flow and now
Doc was sure the medicine was causing the pain. He couldn't move, he
could only look at the ceiling and talk, other than that he was
immobile. The same procedure was repeated until Doc passed out.
Doc
awoke to a cold bare floor, he was naked. The room was bare, he could
see, but he couldn't see any lights. The door had an open window with
two bars across it. Other than that, the door was bare, no hinges,
handle, or latch. He pushed against it, it didn't move.
As his
mind cleared, his first thought was, "I'm in their 'tank'."
He got up and looked out the window, he could see down a long empty
hall. He turned to inspect the room. The side walls had an odd
texture, it felt almost like skin. The end wall and the floor had the
same texture, but only on a strip the same width as the door, running
directly from the door to the back wall and then up the back wall,
like an odd looking aisle.
He could hear doors shut with a metal
clang, but when he went to the window, the hall was empty. If he
continue to look out the window, nothing happened. If he looked away
or sat down or paced the floor, he heard the doors again. He had no
concept of time. Finally, the same male figure appeared at his
window.
"Have you changed your mind, yet. This is your last
chance and like you we have given you many chances."
"No,
I will not change my mind, but why am I confined, I'm normal, let me
out of here."
"Not a chance. Nice pun don't you think?"
He walked away laughing almost hysterically.
Doc moved quickly to
the door, but he disappeared, a metal door clanged shut, but that was
all, he was in isolation again. He sat on the floor with his back
against a wall. He was not sleepy or hungry, he just sat there. He
knew, he could not do anything, he could only wait and see what their
next move would be. He was glad of one thing though, the pain was
gone. He checked his body. As far as he could tell, he had completely
recovered, everything was working properly, even his brain.
With
nothing else to do, he began to reminisce. Odd thoughts passed
through his mind and he laughed and cried according to the thought.
Suddenly he moved with a start, "The wall moved." He turned
and looked at it closely. It looked the same as before. He checked
the distance to the aisle and from the aisle to the other wall, they
appeared to be the same distance as before.
"What had he
felt?" He slid his hand along the surface. Every now and then,
he could feel a small bump form right under his fingers. He checked
the other skin like surfaces. They were still smooth. He moved across
the room and sat with his back against the other wall. He sat,
transfixed on the bumpy wall. Slowly, the bumps enlarged.
Doc
couldn't believe his eyes. Each bump grew into a penis, an immature
penis. He went to the wall and checked it closely, he was seeing what
he thought he saw, "I must be going insane." He shook his
head and shut his eyes, but when he opened them again they were still
there. No testicles or pubic hair, just hundreds and hundreds of them
covering the entire wall.
Time was still meaningless. Slowly, they
matured, each one was circumcised, they began to erect. Something was
odd about them, he examined one. He moved it to one side with his
index finger, "My God, it has calibration marks." When he
released his finger, he didn't move his hand fast enough. As the
penis resumed its prior position, the end of it brushed his finger
scratching him.
He looked closely at the urethra and as he looked
a hypodermic needle protruded from it. He looked at each of the
others, the same thing was happening, only each one had a different
style point.
"I must be loosing my mind." He moved to
the other wall and sank to the floor.
"It is almost if not
impossible to distinguish perception from reality. But, it sure looks
and feels real to me."
The wall moved toward him. He was
confident it would stop at the aisle and it did. He was relieved when
it did, but not for long. He felt the wall behind him move. Again, he
jumped up with a start. He knew what was going to happen next so he
sat with his back to the door rather than the end wall.
"I'll
have to save my strength."
The side wall completed its
metamorphosis much more quickly than the other wall and after it
moved to the edge of the aisle, the remaining portion of the back
wall went through the same metamorphosis. The aisle began to change.
Doc stood up. It felt funny to walk on them, but not for long. When
the needles began to stick his feet, he grabbed the bars on the
window, placed his feet against the door, and walked his feet up the
door until his feet were nearly to the bottom of the window. He
didn't know what would happen if he slipped and fell on all those
needles and he didn't want to find out.
He stopped looking at the
needles and looked out the window down the hall. The recruiter and
the man in black leotards walked slowly toward him. They were
talking, but he couldn't hear what they were saying because he was
screaming. He was on the verge of hysteria and was not aware of what
he was screaming.
The man in the black leotards said with his
beard accenting every word, "I knew I should not have let you do
it your way. You failed again."
"It was all that damn
Eve's fault, she was the one who convinced Joe that he would be
forgiven. That's why we lost him, we had him until then, damn that
Eve. What could I do?"
"I don't know, but it was your
responsibility and you failed and now it looks like you are going to
fail again. I knew I should have taken over sooner, but you insisted
you would succeed. You completely misunderstood and underestimated
him. Your methods didn't shake his faith, in fact, your methods
didn't even cause him to question his faith, he didn't doubt for one
second."
"Most people fall apart when they are reminded
of their errors before they die. He wasn't even phased. What could I
do?"
"You were supposed to destroy his faith. You didn't
even draw a line on it, let alone make a dent."
"He's
still ours. He is anti religion. He plays God and follows that stupid
philosophy, 'Don't get mad, get even."
"That's what you
don't understand about him, he has a very strong faith. He's just
vehemently opposed to the self appointed protectors of the faith. He
doesn't know they work for us."
"I wish he had tried to
change more of them maybe I would have succeeded."
"You
keep forgetting, he has changed, his people changed him, along with
Middy and that Eve."
"We still have one more shot. Nice
pun don't you think," and they laughed.
"You're right,
lets make the most of it."
Doc was screaming, "Let me
out of here, let me out of here," as they walked up to his door.
As Doc continued to yell, he recognized the man in the black
leotards. He knew where he was and his sanity returned to him. He
felt calm and peace sweep over him, a smile spread across his face,
he knew what was going to happen next. As he let go, he could see the
look of defeat on the man's face even as he made one last feeble
attempt to snatch victory from defeat by yelling back at Doc, as Doc
involuntarily yelled his last words.
"Let me out of here. Let me out of here. Send me to THAT OTHER PLACE, but let me out of here."
"Where in hell do you think you are?"
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