The next issue was what he should take with him. He didn’t want to be burdened with a lot of luggage. He settled on a small suitcase, which he loaded with basic casual clothes. He didn’t imagine South America would be very formal. By the time he had packed everything he wanted, he had to sit on the suitcase to get it closed. Then he put some things in his briefcase, including his toiletries and clean underwear.
He was about to leave his closet when he eyed his doctor’s bag. He hesitated for a moment, wondering what he would do
if something went horribly wrong. To be on the safe side, he opened the doctor’s bag and took out an IV setup, a few syringes, a quarter liter of IV fluid, and a vial each of succiny1choline and morphine and packed them in his briefcase beneath the underwear. He didn’t like to think he was still entertaining thoughts of suicide, so he told himself that the drugs were like an insurance policy. He hoped he wouldn’t need them, but they were there just in case…
Jeffrey felt strange and a little sad glancing around the house for what was probably the last time, knowing he might never lay eyes on it again.
But walking from room to room, he was surprised not to be more upset. There was so much to remind him of past events, both good and bad. But more than anything else, Jeffrey realized that he associated the place with his failed marriage. And just like his malpractice case, he’d be better off leaving it behind. He felt energized for the first time in months. It felt like the first day of a new life.
With the suitcase in the trunk and his briefcase on the passenger seat beside him, Jeffrey drove out of the garage, beeped the door shut, and was on his way. He didn’t look back. The first stop was the bank, and as he got closer, he began to get anxious. His new life was starting out in a unique fashion: he was deliberately planning to break the law by defying the court. He wondered if he would get away with it.
By the time he pulled into the bank’s parking lot, he was very nervous. His mouth had gone dry. What if Dudley had called the police about his requesting the bail money in cash? It wouldn’t take the intelligence of a rocket scientist to figure that Jeffrey might be planning on doing something else with the money rather than turn it over to the bail bondsman.
After sitting in his parked car for a moment to summon his courage, Jeffrey grabbed his briefcase and forced himself into the bank. In some respects he felt like a bank robber, even though the money he was seeking technically belonged to him. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he went to the service desk and asked for Dudley.
Dudley came to meet him with smiles and small talk. He led Jeffrey back to his office and motioned to a chair. To judge by his demeanor, he didn’t hold Jeffrey suspect. But Jeffrey’s anxiety stayed razor sharp. He was trembling.
“Some coffee or a soft drink?” Dudley offered. Jeffrey decided he’d be better off without caffeine. He told Dudley some juice would be fine. He thought it best to give his hands something
to do. Dudley smiled and said, “Sure thing.” The man was being so cordial,
Jeffrey was afraid it was a trap.
“I’ll be right back with the cash,” Dudley said after handing Jeffrey a glass of orange juice. He returned in a few minutes carrying a soiled canvas money bag. He dumped the contents onto his desk. There were nine packets of hundred-dollar bills, each containing fifty bills. Jeffrey had never seen so much money in one place. He felt increasingly uneasy.
“It took us a little doing to get this together so quickly,” Dudley told him.
“I appreciate your effort,” Jeffrey said.
“I suppose you’ll want to count it,” Dudley said, but Jeffrey declined.
Dudley had Jeffrey sign a receipt for the cash. “Are you sure you don’t want a cashier’s check?” Dudley asked as he took the signed paper from