Doc's Place

Chapter 15 | Part 1

Friday, October 12, 1984

Trot alongside a man on a horse. Since he has a rifle, I stay out of range and escort him through our territory, making sure he keeps going. On the way back, I find an old dog following the horse's trail. Run him off with a few bites. He is fortunate the pack was not with me or we would have killed him.

Soji and I attack physical therapy with enthusiasm. We press on and on until we reach the duration of a morning workout at the dojo. Later, his massage is masterful, helping me release the tension of pushing through the pain. He wraps me in a blanket on the floor of the living room for a nap.

Twenty minutes later, I awaken feeling the best I've felt since the attack a week ago. Use the cane though because I can't transfer my weight to my right leg. My shoulder is giving me the most pain but it will recover quicker than my leg.

After a shower and then breakfast with Lloyd and Soji, I call the hospital and find the doctor making his early rounds. He is pleased with my shoulder's recovery but advises plenty of rest for my leg between therapy sessions, "for another week at least," he adds. The doc also wants me to add exercises to my therapy sessions that will provide my body a full range of motion. He promises to call the therapist and have her stop by to amend our therapy routine. If my recovery continues as it is, I can return to work in a week.

"Thursday okay?"

"Monday would be better."

"Make it Thursday and I'll listen to your advice." He sighs and says, "Okay, you can return to work on Thursday." Ask him to copy Louise on his last statement, and he agrees. Report this to Soji and Lloyd.

After a bathroom break, Lloyd and I meet in the living room to begin writing up the November/December issue of Doc's Talks. First, I outline the entire issue, including the covers, contents, credits, articles and photo layouts.

As Lloyd types the outline, I rough out the design that Ron and I had developed earlier and drop the outline elements within the design. We discuss and re-draft the outline and make changes to the design accordingly. Within an hour, we have the magazine layout concept finished for Ron. Measure the column inches and leave room for blow-up quotes. All I have to do now is write the text and photo captions.

Notice Soji sits at the counter drinking tea and watching us work. He may be in his sixties but he's not too old to enjoy watching two women move. Mention this to Lloyd and she just smiles. Her subdued reaction confirms that the two of them are intimate, which pleases me. Soji has been a widower for years.

Lloyd takes notes as I begin talking again. She interrupts now and then to remind me of something or comment on my emphasis and direction. We pause several times to check a reference or a quote by Sam or Charlie. Drink water and Lloyd drinks coffee. She is an ideal assistant who learns quickly, which I tell her. She replies that she has never worked so confidently with someone in her life, even when, she ran a crew of twenty as a non-commissioned officer in Japan.

Within an hour, we have finished the feature article. After another bathroom break, Lloyd begins typing the feature article as I tape vellum on the photos and label them so Ron can crop them later.

As I'm finishing with the photos, the phone rings and Soji answers it. He says it's the therapist. They spend a half-hour discussing my expanded therapy in detail. From what little I hear, it sounds painful and arduous but it will provide the results I want, so I like it.

Lloyd finishes typing a few minutes later and we begin talking through the other articles in the issue. The one that takes the longest to develop is a timeline about the nickelodeons at Doc's, including their manufacture, ownership and what was going on in Nevada and the West at that time.

We break for lunch and then Soji joins us for a walk around the development to get some fresh air. The youthful guards come out for a mock attack but I beat them back with the cane. They run away, covering their heads and laughing. We beat a retreat when they go for a garden hose.

Back inside, Lloyd and I return to work and Soji to watch. As Lloyd types the other articles, I edit the feature manuscript and note the blow-up quotes with blue pencil. When I finish, I grab a ten-minute nap on the sectional with a quilt while Lloyd finishes typing. Later, I sit beside Lloyd and edit the typed manuscripts for the other articles. Lloyd has become so good at anticipating my edits that the only errors I find are my own.

When I finish and stand up, I realize that we have finished the first issue. I tell Lloyd that I'll ask Ron to pick up the completed manuscripts and the photos with blue-pencil edits.

"You want me to re-type the manuscript with your edits?" she asks.

"No, the phototypesetter does that," I tell her. "We're finished, Lloyd."

Set one of the envelopes beside her and the other beside Soji.

"What's this?" asks Lloyd, glancing inside the envelope.

"A bonus, undeclared income," I say. "You two have earned it. Go have fun."

At first, Lloyd opens her mouth to say something but she glances at Soji. He simply raises his eyebrows and stuffs the envelope into his pocket. She shrugs and clasps the envelope tightly, smiling. She stands there for a moment, looking at me. "Wow, it's not even three o'clock," she says. "Guess I'll take a shower."

"And go see your kids and grandkids," I tell her. "I'll see you Sunday evening or Monday morning."

She grins, does a little pop-up on the balls of her feet and walks quickly down the hall.

Look at Soji, who says, "Don't throw me out yet. We have to discuss your physical therapy so you know what to do."

"Okay, so let's discuss it." Hand him the envelope with the materials and ask him to leave it at the guard shack for pick up by Ron or Karen. Stand beside him at the counter with one arm over his shoulder and listen as he explains the therapist's instructions. She has added exercises to force my body into a full range of motion. After asking Soji a few detailed questions, I understand what the therapist is trying to accomplish. Kiss Soji and tell him to get out, which, after bowing deeply at the waist, he does.

Lloyd steps out a few minutes later, her hair still wet. She hugs and kisses me. Then she is gone, taking the Buick.

Put on my headset and call front gate security to tell them Susan Walsh will arrive soon. Let her and her truck in so she can park in my garage. Call Ron but I get Karen, his wife. She promises to pick up the packet on the way home from work tonight. They'll get started on the layout Monday and come over for lunch to discuss the layout on Wednesday. Disconnect and call Liz, only to find out she left early, so I call Louise.

"I'm on my way out," she says.

"I won't keep you. How did it go with telling Phil and Kerry they cannot attend Morty's meeting when we tape it?"

"Peter agreed with you on that, so I told them. They laughed at me until I told them to check with Peter. They were not amused, Jill."

"Thank you for handling that, Louise. The first issue is in layout. I'll review it on Wednesday and it will be ready for review by you and Peter on Thursday."

"You're a miracle worker, Jill. How's Liz doing with her stuff?"

"I call her every day, Louise. Everything's on schedule."

"So I don't have anything to worry about. I can have a restful weekend."

"Indulge. Go crazy. Get naked and dance in the moonlight."

She laughs. "Talk with you again Monday."

The phone rings as soon as I hang up so I connect.

"How are you mending, Jill?" asks Bruno, my baby.

"The doc is pleased with my progress. He says I can return to work on Thursday."

"He advised you to wait until Monday. Thursday was you pushing him."

"What are you, a detective?"

"I'm glad you're doing better. You'll rest up this weekend?"

"Susan is on her way from Montana. She should be here any minute."

"Good," says Bruno, obvious relief in his voice.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License

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Doc's Place Chat
© 2008, Michel Grover.
Chapter 15 | Part 1
Late Spring 2009

Lucia :

Mic has posted in the left frame paragraphs from Doc's Place, one of his copyrighted stories. I'm moderating chat here in the right frame. I post every day, but I don't post everything. I have formed a secondary group from which I may also post comments.

Benny :

Exchanges between Jill and her closest friends, Susan and Bruno, are brief but quite revealing. Jill exchanges endearments with neither, quite the opposite, in fact. The conversations are all business, filled with facts and instant decisions. Jill addresses Susan by name—at least a familiar name form—but not Bruno. On the other hand, Susan does not use Jill's name but Bruno does.

Last week, in the hospital after Alice's unsuccessful attack, Jill greets Bruno as baby, but that's it as far as endearments go. Jill's other conversations with those she loves most are not only rare but also just as stark and devoid of warmth as these two telephone conversations. The conversations with loved ones make Jill happy but she barely shows it. They're revealing because Jill feels powerful emotions but she does not express them.

Raj :

Good comments well put, Benny, but most conversations with Jill are stark and quite brief. Even the exceptions seem to prove the rule, such as Jill's interview with Peter, which, while extended, is devoid of personal content. She intentionally keeps conversations stark and brief, does she not?

Benny :

Yes, she does, Raj. Even when Le and Lloyd press her for personal details on separate occasions, Jill avoids revealing her emotions by using humor and changing the subject. In fact, both Susan and Bruno, who have known her for years, appear to have accepted her conversational style. Neither presses Jill to reveal emotions or personal information. Look at Bruno's last question of Jill. She ignores it and changes the subject. Instead of insisting that she answer, he simply accepts her tactic.

Raj :

So, do those closest to Jill enable her behavior?

Benny :

Do you mean hiding her emotions—that behavior?

Raj :

Yes

Benny :

Apparently those closest to Jill do enable her behavior, Raj. Until and unless we see evidence of behavior that suggests otherwise, what other conclusion can we make?

Maria :

If you guys have finished your discussion, I have a comment about Jill's dream in this story part. Until now, Jill's wolf has attacked only to kill and eat. Now, she attacks to intimidate.

Minnie :

I wondered about that as well, Maria. Do wolves attack for reasons other than food?

Annie :

I've done some research on this. Wolves are wild canids and are therefore territorial, as Jill's dream suggests. Wolf packs are usually apex predators in their habitat. Although predators generally avoid one another, examples of interspecies predation in North America include wolf pack attacks on dogs, coyotes, bears and cougars. Common factors are defense of territory, food and young.

Minnie :

What species is Jill's wolf?

Annie :

Canis lupus is a timber wolf commonly called the gray wolf. Interestingly, a female might have a similar length and weight as Jill, if we include the tail. They share other features as well—stamina, cunning and sociality. Jill's wolf is obviously not a member of the alpha pair, so that seems to fit as well.

Maria :

How do you know she's not one of an alpha pair, Annie?

Annie :

Not only is an alpha pair usually monogamous, just the alphas breed, especially when resources are limited. Jill's dreams are devoid of pairing with a male, interaction with pups or even ritualized posturing for beta or other rank. Although her behavior does not indicate omega status, her solitary activities do indicate a lower rank in the pack.

Alice :

You discuss Jill's dreams as though they include an actual wolf.

Maria :

I believe they do. The seasons and even the time of day seem to coincide, although the habitat may be anywhere in North America, I suppose.

Alice :

It makes one wonder whether she and her wolf might actually meet up one day, perhaps during one of Jill's runs in the woods once she recovers from her wounds.

Amalie :

Perhaps one reason Jill chooses to live near the wilds is to be close to her alternate identities. Subconsciously, I mean.

Annie :

That is an interesting idea, Amalie, and why not? Nothing in either Jill's life or her dreams would seem to contradict it. Ask Susan if Jill has always lived near the wilds.

Amalie :

I cannot. Susan has returned home to Montana.

Alice :

Do you miss her, little one?

Amalie :

Desperately, Alice. Susan is a powerful and yet enigmatic woman.

Bill Jr. :

If Jill is a neutron star, then Susan is a white dwarf—like our sun, warm and life giving. However, if you draw close or spend too much time with here, you quickly become uncomfortable and must withdraw.

Lucia :

Perhaps you can answer Annie's question, Bill.

Bill Jr. :

Sorry, but I can't tell you much. When she used to pick up Amy and me on weekends for a while, Jill was living in a big house in Brigham City—adjacent to the wild. She took us skiing, hiking, camping and fishing a lot. In 1993 when she and Ume picked up Amy and me, we didn't go to Jill's; we went to Ume's house in Reno. Jill told us that she lived around Carson City but I don't know where because Amy and I lived with Ume in Reno. Later I went with KMark up to Montana and after that, Amy and I attended university. We see Jill at Ume's big Thanksgiving get-togethers and again in the summers on Susan's ranch in Montana. Other than that, she visits Amy and me now and then but we never visit her—too busy, I guess.

Alice :

Has Jill ever mentioned seeing a wolf?

Bill Jr. :

She never mentioned a wolf to me, but I remember an incident involving a hawk. Once when Jill and I were exploring the Utah desert a couple hundred miles southwest of Salt Lake City, we stopped to camp among a cluster of rocks one late afternoon. We were gathering firewood when a big hawk nailed a mourning dove right beside our campsite. It perched atop a rock not 20yds away and ignored us while it began to tear the dove to pieces and eat it. We walked over to take a closer look, but it just continued tearing up its prey. It finally flew away with half the dove's carcass in its claws—probably for its young.

Lucia :

That's fascinating. I've never seen a raptor attack another bird. How old were you, Bill?

Bill Jr. :

About five, I guess. The reason I remember that weekend so clearly is that it's my first complete memory of childhood. I can hardly remember anything before that.

Amalie :

Did you and Jill talk about the hawk?

Bill Jr. :

Yes, I asked her what type of hawk it was and Jill told me that since it was big for a hawk and had a blue-gray back and a gray belly, it was a northern goshawk, probably an adult female. When it flew away with the dove's carcass, I asked if the nest were nearby, but Jill told me no. She said it was probably outside of its territory because the hawk ignored us. If we had been within the goshawk's territory, especially near its nest, it would have attacked us.

Amalie :

She wouldn't reveal any of her emotions about seeing the hawk, would she?

Bill Jr. :

No, but she's the one who approached it, not me. All I did was follow her. That reveals things about both of us. When I stood beside her, she placed her hand on the back of my neck and pulled me close. I remember looking up at her when she touched me but she just stood there, watching that hawk eat.

Amalie :

Is your memory clear enough to remember your feelings?

Bill Jr. :

My memory and feelings are as clear as the moment of my son's birth, Amalie. The sun is behind my right shoulder so our shadows are on the ground, sage and rocks before us and at our left. The desert is bright, still and silent. I can feel the heat radiating from the rock. Her hand is warm on my neck and we're both sweating just slightly as we stand motionless.

Jill's closeness, her touch and something about the steadiness of her gaze fill my entire being with a sense of her enormous will and effortless power. I feel safe and . . . brave, maybe, or at least confident. It's childish, I know, but the moment is utterly complete and full. I look at Jill and that hawk and I feel power radiating from her. Slowly, I realize that I can do anything, anything at all.

Amalie :

Mon Dieu. When did the moment end?

Bill Jr. :

The hawk looked directly at us, spread its wings and flew off to the northeast. I remember the dove's dark guts dangling from the carcass. When it disappeared, Jill asked if I wanted to get the fire started.

Maria :

You think of that hawk often, don't you, Bill?

Bill Jr. :

My children remind me, especially when one of them does something brave or noble, then I remember.

Marcus :

Your children are brave and noble because their father is, my friend. Have you discussed that hawk with Jill since?

Bill Jr. :

No, but she remembers. Once, after my son suffered severe diarrhea, he developed hemolytic-uremic syndrome. Any of you who have had a child with this disease know what I mean when I say I felt terror. The doctors and nurses were frantically trying to drain the poison from his system but couldn't. They moved him to intensive care and forced me into the hallway. As the hours slowly moved by, I suffered agony whenever a doctor or nurse would rush out and then rush back into the ICU. Jill and KMark, who was barefoot, showed up just after 2am. I have no idea how they found out because I didn't call them.

The worst, the very, very worst moment was when the surgeon rounded the corner and walked toward me, his head down. My body tensed and I sobbed once. Suddenly, Jill's hand was on my neck, steady and warm. I glanced at her but she looked straight ahead, watching calmly as the doctor approached. I remember hearing a weird moan or a squeal and realizing it was my voice.

KMark wrapped his arm firmly about my waist. Just then, the surgeon looked up, obviously exhausted, but he smiled. My knees buckled and I would have fallen if KMark hadn't been supporting me. The doctor told us the crisis was over—my son was taking fluids and beginning to pass urine. When the surgeon left us, KMark picked me up, carried me to a nearby room, put me to bed, kissed me on the forehead and told me to sleep. I awoke to find them, my wife, my sister and practically everyone in Ume's family standing around the bed.

Everything turned out fine but I know Jill and KMark got me through that bleak moment when I thought I'd lost my son. Theoretically, there was no difference between watching that hawk with her and watching that surgeon's approach. Practically, though, I trembled, squealed and collapsed when the terror became real. Jill faced both incidents with the same calm assurance, her hand warm and steady on my neck.

Marcus :

No father passes through such a crisis without feeling terror, my young friend. You stood by your son as he passed close to death. The fact that you needed help to get through the ordeal just means you're human. The fact that you have friends who can and do show up when you need them just means, in my opinion, that you are blessed, or as Jill might say, fortunate.

Maria :

You touch my heart with your stories, Bill. I don't know how you learned to tell a tale, but you are a master at it.

Suze :

Maria is right, Bill. I could read your stories with rapt attention every day. You have a gift and you have developed it well.

Bill Jr. :

Thank you, all. I consider myself blessed on both counts.