Fractured Eden Page 2

  “Geez,” he shouted as he stomped his brakes. His tires squealed to a stop just short of a large green turtle plodding across the road.

  Gasping for air, he glanced in the rearview mirror. No car was behind him.

  “My tires … might not … last long around here.”

  He slowed his breathing, got out, and walked to the front of the car.

  Safe and sound at the side of the road, the turtle looked back at Aaron.

  “Turtle dude, you look mighty pleased with yourself.” Aaron stared into the turtle’s eyes. “I think this has happened to you before. Maybe you like the smell of burnt rubber?”

  Aaron eased the car past the turtle and drove the short remaining distance to his office. He pulled into a parking space in front of the clinic at 7:30 a.m.

  He sat and studied the building through the windshield. It’s just as I remembered. The outer walls are made of brick, so this place could be here for a long time. He glanced up at the sky. I wonder when the last tornado came through here. Aaron’s heart skipped a beat as he unlocked and opened the front door of the clinic.

  He turned to look as two other cars entered the parking area.

  One of them must be Stella. He’d learned of her from the owner of the clinic building. She was the office nurse of the previous doctor, and Aaron had spoken with her by phone. “Yes, I’m available,” she’d said. She’d been making ends meet by providing in-home nursing care for patients who could afford it.

  Aaron held the door for an attractive black woman. “Stella?”

  “That’s me.”

  “Good morning. It’s lucky for me to work with someone with experience here.”

  “I’m glad to be back.”

  Another woman walked toward the door, and Stella motioned with her hand. “This is Juliana, our receptionist and billing expert.”

  “Good. Someone to make sure we all make a living and pay the rent,” Aaron said.

  Juliana laughed. “That’s what I’m good at.”

  She and Aaron followed Stella into the clinic. Standing in the middle of the waiting room, Stella smiled at Aaron. “It’ll be good to see this place alive with patients again. Come along and I’ll show you how I set up everything.”

  Aaron followed Stella on a tour of the waiting room, four treatment rooms, the doctor’s office, and a small lounge in the back with a refrigerator and coffee maker.

  “I know it smells kind of musty in here,” Stella said. “This place hasn’t been used for a while, so I came in yesterday to tidy up what I could. I put in new light bulbs, and I’ve ordered supplies.”

  At the rear of the clinic, Aaron stood in the doorway of his office. Light from the morning sun streaked in through partially opened window blinds.

  He settled into his office chair and explored the desk drawers, then strolled around the room and flipped through a few medical books from two wall shelves.

  I guess the last doctor didn’t want these books. Maybe he or she left in a hurry.

  An hour later, he walked into a patient room and saw a woman in tears. He closed the door behind him.

  “I’m Dr. Rovsing. How can I help you?”

  “I’m falling apart. I can’t sleep,” the woman said between sobs. “I cry all the time.” She held a tissue to her eyes. “Maybe if I could just get some sleep.”

  “Has this happened to you before?”

  She took a deep breath. “No. My daughter disappeared two weeks ago. She’s sixteen. Everyone thinks she just ran away, but I know she wouldn’t do that.”

  “The police are looking into it?”

  “Yes, along with all my friends and neighbors.” She sobbed into the tissue.

  Aaron waited as she composed herself. She looked up at him. “I’m sorry. It’s so hard for me to talk about this.”

  Aaron examined her pupils, heart, and lungs, and prescribed a mild sedative. “I hope this helps you, and I pray you find her.”

  Just after noon, Aaron dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief and adjusted the thermostat a few degrees cooler until the air conditioner was blasting arctic air. He stood under a vent for several minutes to cool off and then followed the aroma of coffee to the lounge and poured himself a cup. He sat with Stella and Juliana at a small table and studied them while they talked. Stella was a bit overweight; Juliana was slender. They were about the same height: Aaron guessed about five feet seven. Stella had a jolly face, and appeared to be mid-forties and about twenty years or so older than Juliana, who had smooth Hispanic facial features.

  “Did you bring family with you?” Stella said to Aaron.

  “No family, no kids. I divorced a few months ago.”

  “Well, I think you picked a good place to start over.”

  “I hope you’re right. How long have you lived here?”

  “A long time, over twenty years,” Stella said.

  “Only three years for me,” Juliana said.

  Aaron looked at Stella. “You probably know everyone in town.”

  “Oh, yeah. I can help you with medical histories, for sure.” She raised an eyebrow. “You can bet most everybody for miles around knows about the new doctor. I expect many folks will drop by this week just to check you out.”

  “No problem. I’ll get to know everyone sooner or later.”

  Stella shook her head. “Maybe not everyone.”

  Aaron put his cup down. “Why do you say that?”

  “I’m thinking of the Taggetts. Wanda Taggett used to take her husband, Sid, to nearby hospitals every few months. He’d often go by ambulance. She takes care of him in their home when he’s not in the hospital. For the last few months, I don’t think he even gets out of bed much.”

  “I met a Wanda in the diner down the road. Is that her?” Aaron said.

  “That’s her, Wanda Taggett.”

  “What’s wrong with her husband?”

  “I heard it was some kind of neurologic disease. Wanda says no one can figure out exactly what his problem is. I think they recently ran out of money for a lot of medical visits and tests. They don’t come here to the clinic anymore.”

  “Surely she’ll let me examine him at home,” Aaron said.

  “Good luck with that. She hasn’t let any visitors inside that house and Sid hasn’t been back to the hospital since the state tried to remove her husband and son from the home a few months ago. She fought back, and husband and son are still with her in the house.”

  “That’s serious. Someone must’ve complained about her.”

  “We figured the hospital did. I think they were worried she was unfit as a caregiver.”

  “She seemed a reasonable person when I talked with her in the diner.”

  “Away from her home, she can be as normal as you or me.”

  Aaron smiled. “You don’t know me that well yet.”

  Stella laughed. “That’s all we need. Another strange person in this town.”

  Late afternoon, as Aaron approached a patient room, Stella walked up to him and whispered in his ear. “He’s got a loud voice, so I like to put him away from other patients. You know, for privacy reasons.”

  Aaron nodded and entered the room. A large man in a cowboy shirt and boots stood and extended a thick, weather-beaten hand. “I’m Grant Belkin. Welcome to our town.”

  “Glad to be here,” Aaron said. I finally meet a real cowboy.

  “I need my blood pressure medicine refilled, and I wanted to meet you. I run the ranch behind your house.” His words echoed around the room.

  “So those are your cattle. They’re a fine looking bunch.”

  “Sometimes they make a lot of noise. I hope they don’t bother you.”

  Aaron smiled. “I don’t think that will be a problem.”

  “Good.” Grant put his hands in the pockets of his jeans and looked down. “Anyway, they’ve been quiet lately.”

  “Maybe they’re content?”

  “Nope. When they’re quiet, I get worried.”

  “Worried about what
?”

  Grant raised his head and started to say something, then he closed his mouth and smiled. “I guess I just worry more than most people.”

  Aaron put the stethoscope to his ears and listened to Grant’s heart and lungs, and then completed a thorough physical examination. He handed Grant a prescription and watched as he walked out of the clinic.

  Aaron’s brow was furrowed. That was a strange light in his eyes.

  That evening, Aaron sat in his home office at the computer and typed in key words for an internet search. I need to find a good happy hour place. Got to have my evening wine.

  After reading about several local bars, he decided on a nearby restaurant. He found a space for his car in the crowded parking lot and strolled into the lounge. Most of the bar chairs were occupied with chatty drinkers, but he spotted an empty space near one end around a corner of the bar. As he nestled into his chair, he nodded at the people around him. He looked twice at the man to his right, in the last bar chair against the wall.

  That man turned to Aaron. “Howdy. I’m Red.”

  Aaron glanced at the sparse hair at the sides of his head, and the man smiled. “It’s short for Redmond. I never had red hair.”

  “I’m Aaron. I’m new around here.”

  “Good to hear that. You’re not just traveling through.”

  He must be well over eighty, maybe in his nineties, Aaron thought.

  Aaron ordered a cabernet wine with clam chowder and Caesar salad. He leaned toward Red. “So you’ve lived here a while?”

  “Many years. I stopped counting, and I’m too old to live anywhere else. Not that I want to.”

  “I guess you’re well-adapted to the heat by now.”

  “I’m careful. Like most everyone else, I try to find someplace cool in the middle of the day. Do that, and you’ll be fine.”

  “What do you do for entertainment?”

  “Entertainment? I walk my dog, watch my vegetables grow, and …” He looked at Aaron and smiled. “I come here.”

  “This area seems to be a safe place to live, compared to the big cities that I’m used to.”

  “It’s safe enough, but we’ve got our share of criminals and crazies, just like everywhere else.”

  After more small talk and two glasses of wine for Aaron, Red looked down at his pocket watch and pushed his chair back. “It’s time for me to go. I’ve got to tend to my dog.”

  Aaron paid his bill, and the bartender brought back change. “I see you met Red Relford.”

  “Interesting guy.”

  “He’s been coming in here for a long time, most nights every week. He sits in that same chair and has two snifters of brandy.”

  “Do you know how old he is?”

  “He won’t say.”

  “I’ll bet he’s got stories to tell.”

  “You might get lucky there. He won’t talk to most folks.”

  Back home, Aaron plopped down on the carpeted floor of his office and grinned at times as he rummaged through the boxes of school memorabilia. He studied photos of college parties and happy people in colorful clothes and outlandish poses.

  Here I am, drunk on beer, marching right over a VW Beetle, from back to front. Someone snapped a photo of me stepping off the hood.

  He picked up a photo of a beaming couple in graduation outfits. They didn’t make it. Like me, married and divorced.

  Aaron frowned when he came across a photo of his ex-wife. He stared at Lauren’s photo for a minute or so, then returned it to the pile, upside down.

  From another box, he retrieved a photo of his graduating medical school class and a later photo of a class reunion. Several of his med school classmates weren’t at the reunion. One had committed suicide. Aaron looked up toward the ceiling.

  One thing I hadn’t realized in med school: how prevalent mental illness is.

  He paced around the room. I wonder if I’ll go crazy someday.

  Stumbling over a box on the floor, he threw his hands in the air. “Hell, maybe moving here was a crazy idea.”

  He opened the box and unwrapped a photograph of his parents. He propped the framed photo on one side of his desk, then sat and studied their smiling faces.

  I sure do miss you two.

  His eyes filled with tears as the memory of that night flooded back. A knock on his front door. “Are you Aaron Rovsing?” a policeman said. “Your parents have been shot by a robber who broke into their house. A neighbor heard the shooting and called us. We have the shooter in custody. We believe he’s hopped up on drugs.”

  Aaron’s voice was raspy. “My parents, shot? Are they okay?”

  The policeman shook his head. “I’m afraid not. I need you to come with me …”

  Aaron lay in bed later that night, listening to rain pounding his roof and thunder shaking his walls, the windows lit up every few seconds by lightning. After half an hour or so, the lightning and noise subsided, and he drifted off to sleep.

  Thunder was replaced by a booming voice. A man appeared out of a mist. “My daughter OD’d. You killed her,” the man shouted at Aaron. “It’s time to even the score, you bastard,” he said and swung a machete at him. Aaron lurched backward and raised his arm, impeding the man’s forearm, but the blade struck his lower left face, opening a deep wound that spurted blood like a fountain.

  Aaron sat up screaming. He turned on a bedside lamp and looked around the room, sweat dripping from his face. His hand went to his jaw and sensed wetness but no painful fresh wound; his finger traced the deep, long scar from the machete. He examined the pillow and sheets. They were wet, not bloody.

  Damn nightmares.

  Aaron stood against the bed until his breathing slowed, then he walked to the bathroom and studied his face in the mirror.

  I hope he’s still not after me. If he is, I’ve got to put up a better fight next time.

  Chapter 3

  “No, Doc. Those boots won’t do.”

  Stella stood in Aaron’s office doorway shaking her head, her hands on her hips.

  Aaron glanced down at his new boots, and his face reddened. “I thought they looked okay when I bought them.”

  “After work, I’ll take you to a decent boot store, and we’ll get you some good Texas boots. You want to look like you’re at home on a real ranch, not a dude ranch.”

  Aaron stomped his foot. “Let’s do it.”

  “I hope you have a pair of shoes around here.”

  Aaron laughed. “I do. Now that you mention it, these boots aren’t very comfortable anyway.”

  Stella snorted. “Honey, I’m surprised they’re still making boots that ugly.”

  Aaron turned on his computer, opened up a daily medical news bulletin, and scanned a few articles.

  “Shortage of physicians across the U.S. …”

  “Americans are still too obese …”

  He switched to a local news source, and the first headline read: “Local woman dies from overdose of prescription pain pills.”

  His stomach tightened and he clicked off the internet. He sat back in his chair and gazed out the window. After a few minutes, he sighed and walked out into the clinic.

  Aaron smiled as he entered the room of his first patient of the day. “Good morning, Ms. Brighton. I met you at the restaurant a few nights ago.”

  “Please call me Marley, and do you remember Cristal?”

  “I sure do. Is she sick today?”

  “She came down with a fever last night, and sniffles, and coughing.”

  Aaron examined the five-year-old Cristal. She smiled at him as he listened to her chest with his bright yellow stethoscope.

  “That looks like a toy,” she said, pointing at the stethoscope.

  “It works well enough for me, though. Now breathe deep in and out.” He completed a physical exam.

  “I don’t find anything serious. I think she picked up a virus. Kids need to work their way through viral infections, you know. It helps strengthen their immune systems.” Marley helped Cristal down off
the examination table.

  Aaron sat at a computer terminal in the room and printed out a prescription for a medication. “This can help her congestion, if she needs it. Give her plenty of fluids and acetaminophen for fever or pain.”

  Cristal looked up at him. “My daddy travels a lot.”

  Marley stroked Cristal’s hair. “She hasn’t seen her father in a while.”

  “He’s big and tall like you,” Cristal said.

  “Come on, little one, we have to go now.” Marley took Cristal’s hand.

  Out in the hallway, Marley turned to Aaron. “By the way, we’re neighbors. I live three houses down from you.”

  “I’m happy to know that. I’ll try to be a good neighbor,” Aaron said.

  “It’s a quiet neighborhood. Not much happens.” She and Cristal walked away.

  Sometimes after people say that, things start to happen. Aaron’s forehead wrinkled. Now what put that idea in my head?

  He and Stella stood in the front lobby. Through the window, he saw a potbellied man in a police uniform approach Marley before she opened her car door.

  “That’s our constable, Keller Greevy,” Stella said. “He’s got the hots for Marley and follows her around. Problem is, he’s married.”

  Aaron whistled. “Oh, boy. That could be trouble.”

  “He thinks no one notices, but it’s obvious to everybody.”

  “Marley’s husband travels a lot?”

  “Sure, he travels, with other women. Not long ago, he ran off with a sweet young thing.”

  Aaron’s eyes widened. “He left Marley? Where did he go?”

  “He and his girlfriend left town, but I heard they’re not too far away. He’s a creep and deserves a bad end, leaving Marley and Cristal like that.”

  “Those are mighty strong words.”

  Stella touched his shoulder. “Honey, it all comes around.”

  They watched as Marley shook her head at Constable Greevy and stepped into her car.

  Keller swatted at insects buzzing around his head, then retreated to the front wall of the building and stood with his arms crossed as Marley backed up and drove away. When her car was out of sight, he turned and walked into the clinic.