The Alcoholics Part 9

"Oh"-Doctor Murphy shrugged-"Why don't you-what? When would I like to?"

"Yeth, thir," said Miss Baker demurely. "You did thay leth, didn't you? You thaid I should do it for your . . ."

"Why, you"-Doc stammered-"you know d.a.m.ned good and well I-"

His mouth snapped shut, tightened into a thin white line. It was always this way, by G.o.d.

"Miss Baker," said Doctor Murphy, "uncross your legs!"

"Well!" said Miss Baker, and her own mouth snapped shut. "I'll have you know-"

"You'll do what I tell you, that's what you'll do. You'll sit there until I'm through talking to you, and you will not try any more of the nonsense you pulled a moment ago. Do you understand me, Miss Baker?"

She was frightened, shamed, on the point of tears. But when there is nothing to do but fight, that is what you do. "I understhand I've taken just about all I'm going-"

"Oh, no, you haven't," said Doctor Murphy grimly. "You haven't begun to. Why did you lie to me about Jeff Sloan? Why did you let me go on thinking he'd taken that antabuse, pretend that he was reacting to it, when you knew d.a.m.ned well that he hadn't and wasn't?"

"I didn't thay he-!"

"You did it by implication. You did it deliberately to make me worry-to give me some trouble, as if I didn't have enough already. And why did you do that? I'll tell you. Because of what you'd done. You knew I knew about it, and you were afraid all h.e.l.l was going to pop. So you screwed me up at what you thought would be your last opportunity."

"I will not," said Miss Baker, starting to rise. "I will not lithen to thuch vulgar-"

"So I'm vulgar, am I? Well, let me tell you what you are. A dirty, sneaky little s.a.d.i.s.t. Binding that poor helpless b.a.s.t.a.r.d's s.c.r.o.t.u.m up in the sheets! Oh, yes you did; I'd hate to think what the poor devil went through before Judson spotted the trouble. And what were you doing in there this morning? Something G.o.ddam rotten to make him yell like that! Good G.o.d, girl-you can't go on this way! The longer you keep at it the worse you'll get. Sooner or later, you'll do something that-"

"Y-you! You having the unsthpeakable nerve to lecture me! A whithkey doctor-a-a-racketeer!"

"Now, wait a minute-!" Doc was outraged by the unfairness of the attack. "Why, d.a.m.n you, you know I don't-you know this is the one sanitarium where an alcoholic can-"

"Oh, yeth! You're an angel, you are!" Miss Baker's eyes sparkled with malicious triumph. "Well, what about thith poor Mr. Van Twyne that you're tho contherned about? Thinth when doth a pre-frontal lobotomy cathe belong in a plathe like thith? Where do you get off at-"

"Shut up," said Doctor Murphy.

"I will not thut up! You tharted thith! Now I'm going to-"

"-to shut up," said the doctor. "Now. Immediately. Because if you do not, my dear Lucretia"-he tapped her slowly on the knee, emphasizing each word-"! am going to wallop that s.a.d.i.s.tic little a.s.s of yours so hard you won't be able to sit down for the next six weeks."

Miss Baker gasped. "Y-you big-"

"Six weeks, Lucretia," said Doctor Murphy. "And don't think I won't love doing it. Now, you were about to say something?"

Miss Baker wasn't about to, apparently. She sat, lips compressed, breast rising and falling in frustrated fury.

Doc nodded, satisfied, and turned to his desk. He wrote out a check and tossed it into her lap.

"You didn't resign," he said. "I fired you. Now pack up your duds and get out of here, and don't take too much time or I'll give you some a.s.sistance."

14.

Stretched out on the office couch, Doctor Murphy opened one reluctant eye and glanced at his wrist.w.a.tch. After two o'clock, less than three hours, a little more than two hours and a half, before the Van Twyne's physician, Doctor Perthborg, would arrive. Before his decision would have to be made. And he was as uncertain as to what that decision should be as he had ever been. He just hadn't had time to think it through; there seemed never to be time to think anything through.

Doc sighed and swung his feet to the floor, sat with his elbows on knees staring glumly at the carpet. Judson had the right idea, all right. Not to live in the place. To have certain times for talking and administering to the patients, and, then, barring emergencies, to keep to yourself. Con- serve your energies for major problems, that was the idea. Don't chase all to h.e.l.l over everywhere, dissipating your time on a thousand and one things which, if they needed taking care of at all, could just as well be handled by someone else.

The trouble, Doc decided, entering a new complaint in the case of Murphy vs. Murphy, was that he was a G.o.ddam know-it-all. He thought he knew everything, and that no one else knew anything. Had to go around sticking his nose in the job, sniffing and scowling and worrying, scolding and asking questions, getting everyone so mixed up they couldn't find their a.s.s with both hands.

Well! If he did decide to hold on here, there was going to be one h.e.l.l of a change. He'd make a round of the patients in the morning and another in the evening. Meals would be served at certain hours, and no others, and if they didn't eat then they could-.

"d.a.m.n!" said Doctor Murphy, suddenly, and he leaped up and strode into the kitchen.

Josephine was seated at the kitchen work-table, sipping a cup of coffee before beginning the job of preparing dinner. Her face became noticeably glum at the doctor's appearance, and her greeting was as barren of enthusiasm as a p.a.w.nbroker examining a dime-store ring.

"What you," she said, "want now?"

"Nothing much"-Doc forced a laugh. "Nothing at all, really. Just a little milk toast and some soft-scrambled eggs-better fry 'em in b.u.t.ter and put just a dash of cayenne in them-and, oh, yes, a pot of hot tea."

Josephine grunted. "Nothin' at all," she mumbled. "Ain't nothin' really at all, 'at ain't. Who it for, anyway?"

"Miss Kenfield," said Doc, and hesitated. "By the way, would you mind taking it to her? Rufus has his hands full with the men patients."

"I got my hands full, too," said Josephine. "How come Miz Baker don' do it?"

"Miss Baker isn't with us any more. She's getting ready to leave."

"Now? She gettin' ready to leave now?" Josephine displayed interest at last. "How come she do 'at?"

"Never mind. If you'll just-"

"You fire her, I bet," said Josephine. "How come you got to do it? You got to do it right now-couldn't wait no little while?"

"I could not," said Doctor Murphy, "and I will not discuss it. Now, please-PLEASE!-fix Miss Kenfield's lunch and take it to her."

"She ain't goin' to eat it, nohow."

"Please," said Doc. "just this once, please do what I ask you without arguing about it."

"Ain't arguin'," said Josephine. "Just tellin' you. She ain't goin' eat it. You want to do 'at woman a favor, doctuh, you give her nice big hot toddy. Hee, hee!" she cackled.

"'At fix her up."

Doctor Murphy glowered helplessly. "All right," he said, "I give up. Just forget the whole thing. I should have known better than to ask. I've never known it to fail, by G.o.d-by Christ in heaven, I've never known it to fail! I ask you for some simple little thing and-"

"What you cussin' an' fussin' about? Said I was goin' to do it," said Josephine.

"Well, do it then!"

"Ain't no hurry," Said Josephine. "She ain' goin' to eat it nohow."

Doc turned and stamped out of the kitchen. Josephine's shoulders shook with impish, silent laughter; then, sobering, she looked thoughtfully up at the ceiling.

She was relieved, in a way, that Miss Baker was departing, but, in another sense, troubled and saddened by the fact. She knew the regret that all conscientious people know when they have left unaccomplished some necessary task which they, and they alone, are capable of accomplis.h.i.+ng. She had tried, of course, but her effort, upon reflection, appeared pitifully weak. In any event, tryin' wasn't doin'

. . . and Miss Baker, unwitting and innocent handmaiden to the evil eye, stood in imperative need of having something done about her. Once she left here, nothing could- rather, would be done. Because no one would know. They didn't have the gift of knowin'. So, Miss Baker would continue in her innocently evil way, inevitably suffering the consequences of the wickedness which she could not help but commit. And it all could have been avoided so easily.

It might, Josephine decided resolutely, still be avoided.

She arose from the table, plodded across the floor to the kitchen cabinet and opened a utensil drawer. Scanning its contents thoughtfully, she selected a razor-edged paringknife and a small, hardwood potato masher. She hefted the last implement, hesitated frowning, then shrugged and dropped it and the knife into the capacious pockets of her ap.r.o.n.

Meanwhile, Doctor Murphy was completing a restless tour of the sanitarium.

He had found the General's room empty, also Jeff Sloan's and Bernie Edmonds'. But judging by the murmur of voices, muted by the closed door of the Holcombs' double room, they were all in there together. And they seemed to be having a very good time for themselves.

It was a circ.u.mstance ordinarily to be regarded with considerable suspicion. But Doc could think of no cause for alarm in the present case. It was only natural that Jeff, having offended them all at luncheon, would be gathered into the group with alcoholic wholeheartedness once he had apologized. They never did anything by half-stages, these alcoholics. Hypersensitive themselves, they would not be content with a mere acceptance of Jeff's apologies. They would be in there now, doubtless reciting terrible social misadventures of their own, proving that Jeff's faux pas was nothing at all by comparison.

And it was good for them all to be together like this, so long as they didn't have any whiskey, as they naturally didn't. It helped to pa.s.s the time, the friendly enemy of alcoholics. It took their mind off of drinking. Anyway, well, Jeff wouldn't be drinking. He wouldn't be in a group that was drinking.

Doc fidgeted indecisively. Then, faintly, he heard a laugh and he grinned with relief and proceeded down the hall. Rufus: there wasn't another person in the world who laughed like that. With Rufus and Jeff in there, everything was bound to be all right.

He stopped at Susan Kenfield's door, and knocked. There was a groaned, profane inquiry as to his ident.i.ty, and he pushed the door open and entered.

Susan Kenfield lay on her stomach, the sheet almost covering her head, her face buried in the pillows. She moaned as Doctor Murphy sat down on the edge of the bed, then, turning slowly, she pushed herself up with her hands and sat up.

"Dying, she said. "Dying like some poor trapped beast, and never a hand turned to help me. Tortured. Alone. Wracked with pain. Peris.h.i.+ng of thirst."

"Umm," said Doc. "I'll get you a drink of water."

"Water! What the h.e.l.l do I want with water?" Miss Kenfield trembled with outrage. "A voice crying in the wilderness. I ask for bread, and he gives me a stone."

"Speaking of bread," said Doctor Murphy. "I'm having Joseephine bring in some lunch. Raw chicken livers with strawberry gravy."

Miss Kenfield gasped. She flung her hands over her mouth and bent forward, her body jerking convulsively.

"You'd better behave," said Doc. "Snap out of it, now, and stop acting like a baby. Josephine's bringing something good-something you'll be able to eat. While we're waiting for it, I want to ask you a few questions."

"Go 'way, Murph," Miss Kenfield groaned. "Just go away and let me die in peace."

"Cut it out, Suzy," Doc scoffed. "Every time you come off a drunk, you think you're going to die. Now-"

"But, Murph! I've never felt this way before! It's as though something were squeezing me-down there. I don't know quite how to describe it, but-"

"Uh-huh," Doctor Murphy nodded. "So you're pregnant along with the hangover. You're very much pregnant, Suzy, which is why you're sobering up fast and getting out of here. I'm not an obstetrician. I haven't delivered a baby since I interned, and the nurses handled most of the work then."

Miss Kenfield laughed weakly. "You're trying to frighten me, Murph. Just look at me. Now, you know good and well I couldn't be that pregnant!"

"Well," Doc hesitated, his eyes traveling up from the rounded flesh of her abdomen to the lush, over-full b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She looked, it seemed to him, no different from usual. No different than she had at the time of her last trip to the sanitarium, three or four months ago. Well, perhaps she was a little heavier-a little bloated-but she'd been on this bat for three weeks, and three weeks of guzzling high-calorie booze. . . .

"You're just mean," Susan Kenfield declared. "You won't give me an abortion yourself, and-"

"You bet your sweet stupid life I won't!"

"-and you're trying to frighten me out of having someone else do it! Well, don't think I won't! Everyone's not as mean and beastly as you are."

"Why haven't you," said Doc, "found someone already?"

"I-none of your business," said Miss Kenfield, "I told you why, Murph, darling. I wouldn't trust any doctor but you."

"Why, Suzy?"

"Murph, you're getting tiresome, pet. Now be a sweet doctor and let me have a drink, mmm?"

"Why?" Doctor Murphy repeated.

She looked away from him nervously. After a moment, she moved her shoulders in a shrug of indifference. "Well," she said, still averting her gaze from his, "I just haven't, that's all."

"You did try another doctor, didn't you, Suzy? And he turned you down."

"We-ell . . ." Miss Kenfield shrugged again. "He was such a stupid man, Murph. He tried to tell me-"

"I've got a d.a.m.ned good idea what he told you," said Doctor Murphy. "When did you go to him? No, wait a minute. When did you first go to a doctor with this deal? How long ago?"

"Just-well, it was just before I started drinking this time."

"That was the last one you went to. I'm talking about the first one. And don't tell me you-only went to one. Don't tell me you haven't been to every G.o.ddam abortionist in town!"

"Why, Murph!" Miss Kenfield widened her eyes in surprised innocence. "What in the world makes you think I-?"

"I don't know why in h.e.l.l I didn't see it before," snapped Doc. "You came to me because the guys in the racket wouldn't touch the job with a ten-foot pole. They were afraid to. All right, Suzy, let's have it. And you'd better give it to me straight if you value that stupid life of yours. When-how many months ago-did you first try to get this abortion performed?"

"About-uh-about-" The actress bit her lip tremulously. "You won't be cross with me, darling? They were such sillies, Murph! Why, anyone could see I'm not-"

"Suzy!"

"I . . . about four months ago . . ."

"Four months!" Doctor Murphy literally howled. "You were too far along for an abortion four months ago, and yet you-you-!"

Offered sufficient inducement, any abortionist would have operated on Susan Kenfield up to the third month of pregnancy, and there were an incautious few who would have risked her life with an abortion at four months. But there were none so money-hungry as to abort a woman more than four months pregnant. So, Suzy must have been more than four months along-four months ago!

"Suzy," said Doc wearily. "I don't know why the h.e.l.l I don't murder you."

"But, Murph! How could I possibly-?"

"You aren't the first woman not to show it. There was a college girl down in one of the coastal towns a few years ago. She had two babies without ever missing a cla.s.s, and without even her parents getting wise. Killed 'em and buried 'em on a vacant lot."