The Rusted Scalpel

by Timothy Browne

  “We encourage them to make money because money buys happiness,” Boxler interrupted, surprising Nick.

  Wright didn’t seem to notice.

  “The better drugs we produce, the more they can sell,” Boxler said. “The more money they make, the better their lives are. Doctors are the same, yes? The more procedures you do, the better living you make.”

  “It doesn’t make it right,” Nick said, and Maggie squeezed his arm, trying to restrain his politics. “I’m sorry” he said quickly, “I mean no disrespect, it’s just that—”

  “No apology needed, Nick,” Wright interrupted. “You are very right. It’s awful what we have to go through.” He put his hand on Nick’s shoulder. “I wish there were a better way. If you know one, I’m all ears.”

  “Yeah, you and a room full of US senators would like to know the secret.” Nick laughed, lightening the mood.

  They all chuckled, even Boxler, though just barely.

  Wright held out his hand to the blond woman. “Dr. Amy here is from New Zealand and has led the charge on Welltrex, directing the research and development.”

  Nick shook her hand. Her grip was limp, but her smile was genuine and her accent pleasant.

  Amy and Maggie shook hands. “Mr. Paul was telling us about your presentation last night,” Amy remarked. “He said there was not a dry eye in the hall, aye. I always wanted to do mission work.” She lowered her gaze. “I guess I got caught up in other things.”

  Maggie’s sincerity came to Amy’s rescue. “Well, you have an open invitation to Guatemala. We could always use your help. I have recently come into a small fortune, and we are going to expand the hospital,” she chuckled, smiling gratefully at Wright.

  “That is kind of you,” Amy said.

  “Amy, tell Dr. Hart and Ms. Russell about Welltrex,” Wright said.

  The woman blushed. “I’m afraid I’m not a good salesman. But the drug has performed splendidly. The mechanism of action is quite complex. In the ventral tegmental region, located in the mesencephalic section of the brain stem, lies a compact group of dopamine-secreting neurons whose axons end in the nucleus accumbens. The stimulation of these neurons in the zone produces pleasurable sensations—similar to an orgasm.”

  Nick rested his chin on his hand trying to remember anything from his neuroanatomy classes in med school. Maggie’s face was blank.

  Wright laughed loudly, making Amy blush. “Yes, I get the same look when she tells me these things. One of my favorite quotes is from Daniel Goleman of the New York Times: ‘The essence of emotion—the rapture of happiness, the numbness of depression, the angst of anxiety—is as evanescent as a spring rainbow. It is hard enough for a poet to capture, let alone a neuroscientist.’ But that is what we are all about here at Zelutex, developing novel and innovative drugs and bioidentical hormones that can help our patients overcome some of life’s most difficult hurdles.”

  A ship’s horn blasted the evening stillness, making Maggie jump and the others laugh.

  “Well,” Wright said, “that’s a signal for me to stop talking business and science and let you enjoy this beautiful evening.”

  Boxler stepped closer to Nick and Maggie. She spoke as if reprimanding small children. “Before we say good night, I must add that we believe in prosperity with a purpose. We are encouraged by what the company can do to impact the lives of those in Guatemala. Mr. Paul would not tell you this, but I must. The other day, he personally flew to Borneo, picked up a dying baby, and brought him back to Singapore for life-changing surgery. The child survived thanks to all that you see here. You can do more good with money than without.”

  Nick crossed his arms over his chest. There was something about the statement and the woman that made his skin crawl.

  “You disagree?” Boxler asked, stared into his eyes and did not flinch.

  Nick looked past her and out into the bay. How did he answer that and why did he feel so conflicted? “Maybe it’s not that simple,” he said.

  “To me it is black and white,” she retorted in an even stronger German accent.

  He glanced at Wright who seemed unfazed by the conversation and seemed to be truly interested in his opinion.

  “Look, Mr. Paul may be one of the few that walks out that philosophy,” Nick said. “I guess I see lots of wealthy people that are more interested in building their own kingdoms: bigger houses, places on the lake, more toys. It is like the benevolence is an afterthought or some way to ease their conscience of their wealth and lifestyles.”

  Boxler frowned at his bluntness. Wright seemed to approve of it.

  Nick raised his hands in surrender. “You know as I stand here, I honestly can’t say that I wouldn’t do the same. Isn’t it our natural tendency to seek comfort and pleasure? I’d love to have a beautiful home and a second on some ski slope of Colorado.” Nick paused and smirked. “And a butler named Alfred…I’m sure that would make my life perfect.”

  It made all except Boxler laugh.

  CHAPTER 14

  INDIAN PRINCESS

  Wright watched with delight as Nick and Maggie lifted the lids off the steamer baskets and swallowed at the sight of the Chinese dumplings. Both appeared refreshed after a relaxing day at the compound.

  “Dim sum?” Nick asked. “You must have read my mind.”

  “Yes, there are some, and then there is dim sum,” Wright said, making them laugh. “I heard you mention yesterday that you’d like to try it. I had some flown in this afternoon from a famous hole-in-the-wall in Hong Kong. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Mind? This is awesome,” Nick said. “Thank you!” He used a pair of chopsticks to stab a dumpling and pushed the entire morsel into his mouth. “Ohmygosh,” he said with a full mouth. “That’s amazing. Dim some good dumplings.” He laughed, pleased with his joke.

  “That one is my favorite. It is xiā jiǎo, shrimp dumplings. But you should try this one as well,” Wright pointed to another. “Mài, steamed dumplings with pork and prawns.”

  “I’m going to gain fifty pounds while I’m here if you keep feeding us like this,” Maggie laughed, stabbing a pork and prawn dumpling.

  “I’m so glad you’re pleased. The cooks prepared the dim sum only hours ago. That’s one thing about having resources—you can have whatever you want whenever you want it. And because you are my guests, the same goes for you,” Wright said. Giving the people around him wonderful surprises was one of his favorite things.

  Christian poured them each a glass of fresh-squeezed lemonade. “Will you be needing anything else, sir?” the young man asked.

  “No thank you, Christian, we can take it from here.”

  After they filled their plates with an assortment of dim sum, he invited his guests to join him in the Adirondack beach chairs facing the ocean—no shoes required on the white sand beach. His staff had arranged the chairs in the shade of two large umbrellas at the edge of the aqua-blue water, which gently broke onto the shore.

  He looked at the setting sun. “It looks like we will have two shows tonight. One by the universe and the other…the year of the horse. Happy new year,” he said and raised a toast with his glass. “May it be a prosperous and healthy new year for you both. I am thankful to count you as my new friends.” He took a long drink.

  Wright waited for his guests to select their seats before taking the empty one.

  “Wright, speaking of healthy, I couldn’t help notice how fast your eye has healed,” Nick said.

  “Yes, leave it to the good doctor’s power of observation,” Wright said and pushed on his eye. It was no longer sore. “I will tell you a secret; I cheated,” Wright said. “In fact, I was hoping this subject would come up, as I would like your professional opinion on a new medication we will launch in six months. I imagine that you know about HCG, human chorionic gonadotropin?”

  “Yes, of course. It’s produced by the placenta and helps the baby grow and develop. I know there has been some experimentation with its healing properties.”


  Maggie spoke up, “I’ve heard of people using it for weight loss. I better order some now,” she said, patted her thighs and laughed.

  “You are both correct. Another lesser-known growth hormone is insulin-like growth factor-1—”

  Nick interrupted him and explained to Maggie, “IGF-1 is essential for the formation of bone and cartilage. It’s why adolescents shoot up in height at puberty.” He turned back to Wright. “There is some pretty convincing research about injecting it into joints for cartilage regeneration.”

  “Good, yes.” He looked at them both with complete seriousness. “What if I told you—and you will have to keep this zombie, a secret—what if we have found a way to stimulate the body into producing more of its own IGF-1, creating healing in every area of the body.”

  Nick pinched his lips together and nodded. “I’d be impressed. And it’s working?”

  “We are still in our clinical trials, but yes”—he pointed to his eye—“it is working well.”

  “But once IGF-1 increases, doesn’t the body downregulate it and slow its production?” Nick asked.

  Wright smiled coyly and turned to Maggie. “Your doctor friend understands the issues with hormonal replacement. Producing bioidentical hormones is the easy part, but the human body is fickle. You start to feed the body with its own hormones, and its sophisticated regulatory system will work to keep the hormones in homeostasis…balance.”

  “The body is amazing. God has made us fearfully and wonderfully,” Maggie said.

  Wright bobbed his head side to side. “Yes, for the most part, it’s just sometimes the body needs a little encouragement—a little nudge in the right direction.” He turned to Nick. “We have learned some techniques to fool the body. They are quite proprietary.”

  “You could tell me, but would have to kill me?” Nick laughed.

  “Quite!” Wright agreed. “Actually, I was going to ask you and Maggie if you would consider going with me to Borneo tomorrow. I planned on taking a few days off after the launch of Welltrex, and I would love to have you both join me. I will bore you with our research facility. And then it would be my honor to show you one of the most enchanting places on the planet, the jungle of Sarawak: elephants, orangutans, the clouded leopard, and the most genteel people group on earth—the Iban.”

  “You mentioned that Christian was Iban. I hate sounding dumb, but I’ve never heard of that people group.” Maggie asked.

  “Yes, the Iban—the original headhunters of the jungle.”

  “Headhunters?” she said with alarm. “That doesn’t sound very genteel.”

  “Well, that was then.” He smiled.

  “You have shown us so much hospitality, are you sure you’re not tired of us?” Nick asked. “We’re not scheduled to leave until Tuesday. Isn’t it a bother? It sounds amazing, though.”

  Wright waved away Nick’s concern. “Okay, it’s set then. Thank you for going with me. I’m afraid in my position it’s difficult to find true friends.”

  “That’s hard for me to imagine,” Maggie said.

  “Great wealth brings you many things, but heart friends are hard to find. One of my wealthy acquaintances says it best: ‘lonely, but never alone.’”

  “Did your wealth come from Zelutex?” Nick asked.

  “In part. The company has done extremely well, and I am financially diversified, but I can’t take credit for it all. I inherited a great deal. But the funny thing is, growing up I thought we were poor. We lived a very simple life. I spent my youth on a large animal preserve in the jungles of India. It wasn’t until I was sent away to an international school in England that I learned we owned the hundred-thousand-acre preserve.”

  “You went to school in England?” Maggie asked.

  “Yes, then Harvard Business School.” He turned solemn. “When I was away at school, my parents were killed in a plane crash. I inherited a vast fortune.” Wright’s constant companion of loneliness swelled in his chest.

  “I’m so sorry,” Maggie said.

  “Yes, I miss them terribly. I didn’t care about the money for a long time. I’d rather have my parents back.” He let out a loud sigh.

  “Do you have siblings?” Maggie asked.

  “No, unfortunately, my mother was unable to have more children after me. I guess it was a pretty rough labor. The only family I have remaining is my grandmama, and she just turned ninety-five. I wish you could meet her; she’s something else.”

  “Does she live in Singapore?”

  Wright laughed. “She would not step one foot into Singapore. She lives in Calcutta and thinks there are too many Limeys, Brits here. I’m afraid she’s not very fond of them—including my father, who was one. My mother was to wed a proper Indian man, a doctor of royal blood, when she fell in love with the English scoundrel. He didn’t have a title, not even a British one. My father was a good man; he just wasn’t who Grandmama had picked out. My grandmama is a very proper Indian woman, but the heart feels what the heart feels.”

  “That’s so true,” Maggie said. “It’s so funny to have you talk about Indians. I guess I’m always thinking Native American Indians when I hear the term, but you’re right—India, Indians.” She laughed.

  “Maggie, what is interesting is when Christopher Columbus discovered the indigenous people of the Americas, he thought he was still in the Indies and therefore called them Indians, so both are right.”

  Maggie smiled at him. Her long black hair flowed in the evening breeze, and she shivered. He reached into a cedar box next to the chairs and pulled out a cashmere blanket and handed it to her.

  “Nick, you want something to wrap up in?”

  “I’m good, thank you.”

  They sat in silence and the clouds lit with pinks and yellows. The bay of Wright’s island opened to the setting sun on the eastern horizon, turning the sea into a golden sheen as it sank slowly toward the world’s edge.

  “Nick, how are your eyes feeling?” Wright asked.

  Nick nodded his head from side to side. “Still a bit blurry at times, but so much better. Maybe I need to hear more about your IGF-1 medication.”

  “Yes, I’m looking forward to that,” Wright said.

  “I think God has it all under control,” Maggie chastised, causing them to grow silent again.

  Wright stood up, began to pace, then sat down in front of Maggie and Nick in the sand. “I have been waiting for the right time to tell you something and now is as good a time as any, I suppose. This is for full disclosure.” He scooped up a handful of sand and let it pour from one hand to another. “Maggie, have you ever thought about why the foundation picked the Hope Center?”

  He looked straight into her eyes, and she shrugged at the question. “Well, I—”

  “I mean no offense,” he interrupted her. “We get thousands of applications each year. You had a slight advantage.” He picked up another handful of sand. “Don’t get me wrong, we love your ministry and your work, but I have to admit about knowing you before we received your application.”

  Maggie looked taken aback.

  Wright decided to face the subject head-on. “My foundation was one of the biggest supporters of FOCO.” As the acronym left his mouth, he could tell by their stunned faces that they recognized the Friends of Children Organization. The group that North Korean terrorists used to spread a virus that changed the world. They nearly killed Nick and his friends. More significantly, they were the group that murdered Maggie’s husband.

  Maggie gasped and Nick stood.

  “What the…?” Nick started.

  “Please, please know that I had nothing, absolutely nothing, to do with the North Korean conspiracy or what happened to you both in Guatemala.” He looked at Maggie and thought she might be sick. Her eyes filled with tears and overflowed. “Maggie, Nick, please believe me. The Wright’s Kids Foundation had no idea…and as you know, FOCO was doing some wonderful things around the world. They were simply hijacked by those hideous people.”

  Nick and M
aggie looked mortified and unconvinced. “I know this news is difficult.”

  “Difficult?” Nick said. “I’ll tell you about difficult! Those people killed my best friend and almost killed me,” he said, wrapping his hands around his own neck. “They released their modified mumps virus that affected the entire population of the world.” Nick picked up a stone from the sand and threw it hard into the sea.

  Wright understood this conversation was going to be complicated but wasn’t sure where to take it from here, so he sat and let them process.

  Finally, Maggie wiped at her tears and straightened her back and shoulders. “Mr. Paul…Wright…look, I understand. It’s just that those wounds run deep. Even after four years, I have a difficult time forgiving those people. Believe me, I have worked and worked on forgiveness—prayed about it, been prayed over, had counsel…everything I know to do. Yet it’s a moment by moment thing for me still,” she said. “The crazy thing is, I know that forgiveness is one of the cornerstones of our walk with God. That the prisoner I’m letting out of the jail of hate is actually me.” She let out a loud sigh. “Ew boy. Help me, Lord. I think this has caught me off guard. It’s just like God, pulling at the scab that I think is healed—exposing it, putting on some more loving salve, and wanting it to heal once and for all.”

  “Then I ask that you forgive me as well,” Wright asked. “Maybe I should have told you sooner. I don’t know. Believe me, I have felt terrible about the situation all these years. We just simply had no idea what that group was doing and how they used the organization’s name for evil.”

  They both seemed to understand. They weren’t happy, but empathetic.

  “Of course, we followed the news and the US Congressional hearings carefully, and even the foundation was scrutinized. We were as duped as everyone. I read about both of you during that time, and now I am hopeful I can make amends.”

  He waited. Maggie seemed to settle the matter in her heart, and her shoulders relaxed.

  “You’re right, this was not your fault,” she said, nodding. “It’s just that I thought I was looking so smart to receive this grant.” The smile returned to her beautiful face.