“It’s a tall order.”
He withdrew his hand and smiled.
“The only kind we have around here.”
4
THE WALLS Of the ward were covered with sunny
yellow paper patterned with dancing teddy bears
and grinning rag dolls. But the hospital smells that
I’d grown used to when I worked there–disinfectant,
body odor, wilting flowersassaulted my nostrils
and reminded me I was a stranger. Though I’d
walked this same corridor a thousand times, I was
gripped with the chilling uneasiness that hospitals
inevitably evoke.
The Laminar Airflow Unit was at the east end of
the ward behind a windowless gray door. As we
approached, the door swung open and a young
woman stepped into the hallway. She lit up a cigarette
and began to walk away, but Raoul hailed her
and she stopped, turned, bent a knee and roze .the
pose, one hand on the cigarette, the other on her
hip.
“The sister,” he whispered.
He’d called her a looker but it was an understatement.
·
51
girl was stunning.
She was tall, five eight or nine, with a body-that
managed to be both womanly and boyish. Her legs
were long, coltish, and firm, her breasts high and
small. She had a swan’s neck and delicate, slender
hands ending in crimson lacquered nails. She wore
a white dress made of T-shirt material- and had
. cinched it with a silver cord that showed off a tiny
waist and flat belly. The soft fabric molded to every
angle and curve and ended midthigh.
Her face was oval with a strong cleft chin. She
had prominent cheekbones and a clean jawline lead-
ing to lobeless ears. Each ear was pierced with two
threadlike hoops of hammered gold. Her lips were
straight and full, her mouth a generous red slash.
But it was her coloring that was most striking.
Her hair was long, lustrous, combed straight back
from her high smooth forehead, and coppery red.
But unlike most redheads, she had no freckles and
lacked the ‘buttermilk complexion. Her skin was
blemishless and burnished a deep California tan.
Her eyes were wide-set, thick-lashed, and hy black.
She’d used a bit too much makeup but had left her
eyebrows alone. They were full and dark, with a
natural arch that gave her a skeptical look, She was
a girl anyone would notice, with a strange combina-
tion of simplicity and flash, almost overwhelmingly
physical without trying to be.
“Hello,” said Raoul.
She shifted her weight and looked both of us
over.
“Hi.” She spoke sullenly and regarded us with
boredom. As if to underscore her apathy, she gazed
past us and sucked on her cigarette.
“Nona, this is Dr. Delaware.”
BLOOD TEST. 53’
, unimpressed.
“He’s a psychologist, an expert in the. care of
‘children with cancer. He used to work here, in
,” she said, dutifully. Her voice was soft,
almost whispery, the inflection flat. “If you want
him to talk to my parents, they’re not here.”
yes, that is what I wanted. When will they
be back ?”
The girl shrugged and flicked ashes onto the floor.
-“They didn’t tell me. They slept here so they
probably went back to the motel to clean up. Maybe
tonight, maybe tomorrow.”
“I see. And how have you been doing?”
“Fine.” She looked up at the ceiling and tapped
her foot.
raised his hand to offer the classic physician’s pat on the back, but the look in her eyes
stopped hiM and he immediately lowered it.’
Tough kid, I thought, but then, this was no day at
the beach for her.
“How’s Woody?” he asked.
The question infuriated her. Her lean body tensed,
she dropped the cigarette and ground it under her
heel. Tears collected in the inner corners of the
midnight eyes.
“You’re the damned’ doctor! Why don’t you tell
me!” She tightened her face, turned, and ran away.
Raoul avoided eye contact. He picked up the
crushed but and deposited it in an ashtray. Covering
his forehead with one hand he took a deep
breath and gave a migraine grimace. The pain must
have been excruciating.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go in.”
A hand-scrawled sign in the nurses’ office said
“Welcome to Space Age Medasin.”