LITMIR.BIZ

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oozing out. I guess it was her home remedy. And it smelled awful, all rotten and fishy. It made me think of something you’d get out of a swamp.

      There was no place for either of us to sit down, so we were stuck standing beside each other. In a few minutes my mother came whizzing in, her face all red; and she’d been rushing like crazy, you could tell. She picked George up and set him on her lap and held his head real still against her.

      Mrs. MacHenry came over, her white uniform crisp as a Ritz cracker. “I sent for Dr. Haley, Linda. He’s on his way. I told him it was an emergency.”

      “God, thanks, Betty.” Mom glanced up. Then, “Don’t move, George.” She clamped his head between her palms.

      Mrs. Conner stepped closer. “Is he sick?”

      “He’s got a rock up his nose.” My mother was petting George’s cheek.

      Mrs. MacHenry added: “Dr. Haley should be here any minute.”

      My mom was close to frantic. I could tell because she was stiff, trying to look good like she wasn’t going to lose it and all, yet talking like her tongue had diarrhea. She does that when she gets nervous. It really bothers me to see her like that, and her voice climbing high: “I just wish I were closer; my job an hour away makes this so much harder. I worry, you know. Being that far. I need to get a job closer. Something that’ll let me be here, near home. Something that’ll . . .”

      Mrs. MacHenry touched my mother’s hand. “Let you raise your kids like you want to?” She laughed. “In Palm Key that means if you don’t fish or oyster, then you got to stick to hairdressing, or punching a cash register, or waitressing till your feet are flat.”

      “Or teaching school.” Mrs. Conner chimed in, leaning closer. Wow!Did she smell bad!

      “Wasn’t anything for me either,” Mrs. MacHenry said, “till this clinic opened up. I’ve worn out the top layer of Highway 40 for over twenty years.”

      “You’re gonna be fine, George.” My mother was still rubbing his head.

      Mrs. Conner bent down. “Bet you won’t put anything up your nose after this.” Then she reached out and touched his knee. He had on these cut-off overalls; he did look cute. Suddenly his nose crinkled up, and as Mrs. Conner got her own nose closer, George sneezed. The rock flew out of his nose and hit Mrs. Conner on the cheek, then fell to the floor between her shoes. “Lord-a­mercy!” she said.

      Good shot, I thought.

      My mother stood up. Mrs. Conner stepped back. My mother was still holding George, his feet dangling like wet clothes. And everybody was staring at the rock. The door opened, and Dr. Haley came in.

      He walked straight over to my mom and George. “So, this the fellow with a little trouble?” He reached to take George out of my mother’s arms. Boy, that guy was smooth.

      My mother smiled. “I’m so sorry,” she said. ‘‘I know you rushed back here.” “It’s okay,” he said. “That’s what I’m here for, to handle emergencies.” “I just mean, it’s not an emergency anymore.” She looked down at the rug and pointed.

      Dr. Haley stepped back, still holding George. He saw the rock my mother was pointing to, and then my mother added, “He just sneezed.”

      Dr. Haley looked at George. Then he laughed. “Well done,” he said. He added that he ought to check George over just to make sure no damage was done.

      As he carried George through the door to the other parts of the clinic, we all followed him. I don’t know why. I guess we were morbid or so stuck together out of habit, we all just went with him. Mrs. MacHenry held open the examining room door, then came in, too.

      Dr. Haley set George down on the treatment table and looked up his nose with a flashlight, while Mrs. MacHenry held his head. Boy, that guy was tall! Six-four, at least.

      My mom was watching, but was still talking like her tongue was having a jerk-fit. I wished we could get her looked at next. “I was just so worried it would go to his lung,” she said. “I had to rush here; I just knew this wasn’t something I should take lightly, but I’m so sorry we made you rush back.”

      “Not many people know something like that. How’d you know it could go to his lung?”

      My mother looked at Dr. Haley, and for a minute she was quiet, her eyes squinted like she does when she’s trying to think. Then she smiled and let loose, her words fast and hooked together. “I guess it’s something I picked up when I was working for my uncle. I was fifteen, about Drew’s age here—yes, just exactly Drew’s age—and I had this thing about how I was going to be a doctor.” She smiled, then sort of laughed. “So my parents let me spend a summer with my uncle, working in his office. He was a pediatrician, and we had a lot of kids that summer with things up their noses.” She laughed loud then. “I’d forgotten that.”

      He was watching her, holding that little flashlight thing and unscrewing it, and then he handed it to Mrs. MacHenry, and she put it away. George was now down to the end of his sucker.

      “Did you go on to medical school?”

      “No. My parents kept telling me it’d be best for me to be a nurse.” She laughed again. “You know, that girl thing: We ought to be nurses, not doctors. Everything’s changed now, thank God. But not then—and not to my parents. “

      Just then George started cutting up, wiggling around and wanting down from the examining table. “I want that rock,” he said, heading for the waiting room.

      Dr. Haley followed him; everybody was still there, and watching. We stood at the office door, watching, too, as Dr. Haley and just about everybody else in the waiting room got down on their hands and knees to help George find his rock. Then Dr. Haley came back into the examining room carrying George, with George holding the rock, and then Dr. Haley shut the door. “I have to listen to your chest, George,” he said. “Make sure your lungs are clear. Won’t take but a minute.”

      While my mother was taking offGeorge’s shirt, Mrs. MacHenry was handing Dr. Haley his stethoscope, and then before he put it in his ears, he said to my mom, “I’ve been wanting to hire a medical assistant or another nurse. We’ve gotten so busy. I had no idea this practice would be like this.” Then he put the stethoscope tubes in his ears and put his head close to George’s chest.

      “Breathe deep, George,” he said.

      Mrs. MacHenry stood behind Dr. Haley mouthing: “Linda, if he offers you this job, take it.” “Are you crazy?” Mom was shaking her head, her eyes wide, doing a no-go pantomime.

      George was huffing and puffing in the background. “It’s all right,” Mrs. MacHenry whispered, “I’ll cover for you. We don’t need a R.N.”

      “But, Betty.”

      “Hell, I’m just an L.P.N. We don’t need no genius. Just do it.” She coughed, making a sound that covered part of her words, but since Dr. Haley had the stethoscope in his ears, me and Mandy were the only ones knowing what was going on, and maybe not even Mandy. She had this horrified look on her face, studying the reflex hammer on a little white table with a bunch of other things, probably trying to figure out which body parts all that stuff could be poked into.

      My mother was breathing like George, coaching him. Then Dr. Haley pulled the things out of his ears and turned around. Both my mother and Mrs. MacHenry froze. “All clear,” he said. “Must have been a lone rock.”

      My mother folded up George’s shirt. She was mashing it up into this little square. ‘’Thank God,” she said. Then she smiled, adding, “and you.” She had on this blue-and-white-striped suit, real neat. And her face was still flushed. She’d gotten into scarves in the last few months, and she had on a red one now draped over her shoulder. I don’t know why, but she always dressed real fine to go to work at The Dump. “We’ve needed a doctor here for a long time,” she said.

      “So how about it?” He looked at

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