SELENA ENTERPRISES, Toronto, Canada. All rights reserved
The novel first published in the magazine THE NEWS OF THE NEW WORLD, North Carolina, USA, 2001/2002
Reprinted with permission
The next morning, the companions got up when the sun was so high that the mature maple trees in the beautiful prison park did not give much shade.
"How was your first night behind bars?" Commandante asked, looking at Jack brushing his hair in front of the mirror. "Any pangs of conscience? Tears of remorse?"
"Slept like a stone," Adjutant replied.
"I bet even like a gravestone," Nick chuckled. "Small wonder after yesterday"s night of sparkling champagne, sparkling music and even more sparkling love."
He came up to the window and added:
"Looks like today we face another hot day. Literally. I hope figuratively too. But it depends only on you, my friend."
The executive inspector took a list with pot owners from a pocket of his jacket and said:
"So, doctor-inspector, ten million bucks rest in piece in the humble clay pot that belongs to . . ."
Nick offered the list to Jack, suggesting that he finish this sentence. Adjutant looked at the crumpled sheet of paper with two names crossed out already, sighed and returned it to Nick.
"You know, Commandante, I"m afraid to miss again. I"m luckless person. I don"t even know how I hit this jackpot. Starting from junior kindergarten, if anything bad was supposed to happen, it always happened to me. When I dropped my peanut-butter sandwiches they always fell on the floor with butter down and vending machines working perfectly for other people always stole my coins, giving me nothing in return.
"In this century there was the only one attempted armed bank robbery in Smallton. And the only person hurt was me. A gluer-teen got high, armed himself with a spade and decided to rob a bank but screwed up the doors and entered the funeral home office next door to the bank. The attendant, taking an order on the phone, decided that their recently hired part-time grave digger had come to get his paycheck. Still speaking on the phone, she handed him his cash and showed with a gesture that he was done for today. The stunned robber was so surprised at how well the bank robbery worked when one is armed with such a threatening weapon as a spade that he immediately rushed outside, joyfully tossed his spade up in the air, and ran to buy a new can of glue."
Jack sighed and added:
"The damn spade landed on the head of an innocent passer-by. I still have scars from stitches on my head. I yield my turn to you, Commandante. If you"re lucky, I"ll accept four million dollars instead of six. But let it happen today."
When Nick finished laughing at the amazing robbery story, he took the list from his companion and stood at attention like a brave soldier ready to fulfill any order for his fighting motherland.
"Only because of respect for your combat scars I take this challenge," Commandante said, still smearing tears of laughter on his face.
"Though I have to confess I"m also quaking in my boots," Nick added as he sat down on the bed and started to read the list.
"Okay, let"s ask our cordial host for a favor and borrow a car," Commandante said finally as he marked the list and put it back in his pocket. "I hope he"ll lend us something better than a paddy wagon. Let"s return to Smallton for a day."
"Who did you choose?"
Instead of an answer Commandante asked:
"Are you a healthy man? When did you see your family physician the last time?"
"I don"t remember", Jack confessed. "Probably a couple of years ago"
"Good for you. The further away you stay from physicians, the healthier life you live. The law of smart being number four. But I have no choice. My chest is spinning and my back is gasping. So I need to see a doctor . . ."
Dr. Kho was a bright representative of those family physicians who dared to cure absolutely everything - from acute pain to nagging ache and from swollen glands to worn-out genitals. His practice was an excellent approbation of well-known motto: A MEDICARE FREE OF CHARGE IS A MEDICARE FREE OF CARE.
The pace-setting doctor served as an enviable example for other family physicians in Smallton. During a working day he could put so many poor sufferers through his office that he fulfilled his annual fiscal plan in half a year. The second half of the year he usually spent in Florida.
The productive physician set so many appointments daily that his reception room was always teeming with patients like the Everglades with alligators. But none of them spent more than a minute in the doctor"s office. Taking into account Dr. Kho"s experience and outstanding knowledge, it was more than enough. What"s more, regardless what kind of disease he diagnosed, the family magician always prescribed only two universal cures: ice or antibiotics.
In the most complicated cases, when a combination of ice and antibiotics did not work, Dr. Kho referred his patients to specialists: Dr. Kha, Dr. Khe and Dr. Khu. Since the medical system denied the patient the right to choose a specialist and he could not go to a doctor whose name started with another letter of the alphabet, the poor sick thing got the same treatment there too. The only difference was that to get another minute-long portion of ice-cold treatment, he had to wait for an additional three months at least. For the sake of justice it should be said that even if Dr. Kho wanted to refer a patient to somebody else, he could not do this since Kha-Khe-Khu triumvirate was the only one left in Smallton after the rest of the specialists moved across the border down South where the climate and taxes were not so harsh and health-threatening.
The bright example of Dr. Kho"s practice was a case with a carpenter named John. By nature this carpenter was a very healthy man. He heard that every human typically owns a gull bladder, pancreatic gland and a lot of other useful and industrious glands and bladders, but he had no clue where they were hidden inside his strong body.
Once upon a time, carpenter John got a splinter in his finger. The finger got swollen and the carpenter went to his family physician. With one eye, the distinguished healer looked at the gnarled John"s finger and with his second eye he looked at the medical card of a previous patient, writing down something in it.
"Don"t wolly. Mina infecsn," the physician cheered up John.
He prescribed to take antibiotics for a week and ran out into the reception room to invite the next patient.
By the end of the week, the antibiotics did their job: they killed everything alive inside John including digesting-helping microorganisms. Now, after taking each meal, John felt like he just had a dish full of raw stones. But the finger still was swollen.
John went to his physician again.
"Don"t wolly!" doctor said on the fly, dashing out for a new patient. "Upset stomach. Dlink milk, love life. A gallon of milk with ice evly day and in a week you"re a new man."
In a week John felt that he was turning into a zeppelin. There were so many gases inside him that in a windy weather he was afraid he could get airborne. In place of his former backbone, he felt a red-hot iron bar that started at the top of his head and finished in his prostate gland. But the finger still was swollen.
The carpenter went to see his family magician again. Seeing that antibiotics and iced milk did not help, Dr. Kho set an appointment with the gastroenterologist Dr. Khe. In three months. Meanwhile he advised John do not worry, be happy, drink milk, love life and take Tylenol.
When in three months Dr. Khe examined poor John he diagnosed severe gastritis, gastroenteritis, cholecysititis, pancreatitis and a dozen of other ailments ending in "tis". The unlucky carpenter underwent three surgeries, lost his gall bladder, spleen, fifty pounds and till the end of his life was doomed to eat lettuce only. Like a rabbit.
But the bloody finger was still swollen!
Finally John"s wife took him to a clinic for holistic healing. The old lady at the reception desk was sewing something nice waiting for patients. She listened to John"s story and said that to cure a boil from the splinter by a horse-killing doze of antibiotics is the same as to kill a mosquito on your forehead with a gun shot. Then she took a needle out of her sewing and in a second extracted the splinter.
When Commandante entered the doctor"s office, the physician jumped up from his chair with the speed of a tennis ball, stretched his hand for a greeting and jabbered quickly:
"Howareyoutoday Mistel Vanblook?"
"Worse than yesterday, but better than tomorrow", Nick answered philosophically but in a sick voice.
"Don"t wolly, be happy," the doctor replied, writing down something in the medical card of the previous patient. "What is your ploblem?"
"You know, doctor, I have a serious vision problem. In recent years something has been going wrong with my eyes".
"What kind of ploblem?"
"Before the ailment afflicted me, wherever I happened to be - in the pub, health club, driving my car or simply walking along the streets - if I saw a good-looking young lady, especially with slender legs and wearing a mini skirt, I immediately got very excited with all accompanying proof of it. You know what I mean? Nowadays, regardless how long I look at ladies, nothing happens."
"This is not my bailiwick," the doctor concluded and opened the office door, sending a clear hint that the appointment was over. "You should see optometlist. Meanwhile, apply ice daily."
"And what organ to apply to?", Commandante asked, standing in the doorway.
"To eyes, of coulse," doctor clarified readily and invited the next patient in.
"Howareyoutoday Mistel ..." Nick heard before the door shut again.
In the airless, tiny reception room full of coughing, sneezing and blowing noses patients Commandante approached the receptionist"s desk. He wanted to ask something, but suddenly wheezed and fell on the receptionist"s desk crushing papers and files with medical histories. Then he slowly slipped on the floor, lay on his back, crossed his arms on his chest and closed his eyes.
The receptionist screamed and seized a piece of paper thumb-tacked to the wall. She picked up the receiver, dialed the number, and started to read the paper slowly, stumbling at every syllable:
"Th-is is Dr. Kho"s of-fice. Re-cep-cio-nist Missis Kho is spe-aking. Please, send an am-bu-lance. We have an emelg-ency situa-tion hele. We are lo-ca-ted colne of Main King Stleet and ChlyslelChev . . . ShlyslelShev . . ."
The receptionist stuck as a broken old record and could not make her way through a variety of sounds that simple combination of letters CH makes in the complicated English language. Finally Commandante lost his patience, got up from the floor, took the receiver from the receptionist"s hand, looked at the paper and said:
"Corner of Main King street and ChryslerChevroletChurch Avenue. Please, be advised that I intend to die in fifteen minutes. So if you come in sixteen minutes, I"ll sue you for three million dollars and twenty five cents. A quarter is for using a pay phone to call my lawyer."
After these words, Commandate fell back on the floor and rested motionless. At this moment, the scared-to-death physician rushed out of his office, bent over Nick, and started tapping on his cheeks.
"Mistel Vanblook, Mistel Vanblook," he wailed, beating against Nick"s cheeks. "Could you do me a favol, Mistel Vanblook? Will you please clawl a couple of yards and die outside my leception loom. Only two yards! It"s obvious that for you it doesn"t matter where to die, but my leputation in Medical Associasn may be spoiled for good. And I have a wife, seven children in Canada and . . ."
Dr. Kho wanted to add that he has two wives and twelve more children in other parts of the world, but decided that this information would not be much helpful. Commandante opened one eye and said:
"I hear what you say. If we can make a deal, I probably could wait for another half a century. To be honest, I"m not in a great rush."
"Whatever you want!" the frightened doctor exclaimed.
"You know, doctor," Nick said, still lying on the floor. "I was too shy to tell you that after I got this bizarre disease my sexual orientation has changed."
Commandante patted the healer"s bald scull with withered gray hair around it and added sensually:
"You know what I mean?"
The doctor looked at his watch, sighed and started to take off his shirt. He had no choice. There were only ten minutes left.
"No, doctor, you took my words wrong!" Nick exclaimed. "You"re a handsome man, there is no question about this. But the situation is even more bizarre than you think."
Commandante made a gesture showing that he wanted the doctor to move his head closer to his lips. Then he whispered in the physician"s ear:
"I"m not homosexual. I"m florisexual. I make love to plants and flowers. It"s so weird! But I can"t resist it. The first time I saw your tropical beauty," and he pointed with his eyes at the rubber plant standing in the corner of the reception room, "I said to myself: this is my strongest desire forever! But I didn"t dare to say it to you. I"m so shy, doctor!"
"So you want this plant, do you?" Dr. Kho exclaimed with joy. "You can take it light away. It"s youls!"
Nick jumped up on his feet and cried:
"Really? Thank you very much! I feel much better! You"re a real magician! Tell the ambulance personnel that you applied vegetable-based medicine and have managed to revert my cardiac arrest without using ice or antibiotics. That will definitely augment your prestige with the Medical Association. And favor for a favor. Free advice. I knew a doctor who put a turnstile in the doorway of his reception room. The gate didn"t open until a patient signed the special form. This form stated that doctor is committed to give his patients the best treatment on the earth possible. But in the unlikely situation that after treatment a patient loses his hair, teeth or life, he"d have no claims whatsoever. Follow his example and you"re always safe!"
When Nick grabbed the plant and the companions left the room, Dr. Kho looked at a stunned line of people in the reception room, rotated his finger near his temple showing that something was not wound properly in Commandante"s head, and said:
"He better apply ice to his attic. Who is next? Howareyoutoday Mistel . . ."
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