Necessary Medicine

by M. K. York

  “Aye, aye.” Mark snapped an attempt at a salute. Eli snorted.

  “I’ll get him out of your hair,” said Neil.

  “Thanks, I appreciate the favor.”

  They were on their way back upstairs when Mark said, “Hey, thanks for coming to check on me.”

  “No problem. I haven’t had an emergency in—” With precision timing, Neil’s pager went off. They stared at each other and laughed, before Neil pulled out his phone to return the page and then went tearing off at top speed.

  * * *

  ACS that year was in San Francisco, which meant that travel costs were basically nothing—a huge perk in terms of going to the conference.

  “Yeah, Eli is going too,” Pete said casually when they were getting coffee. “He’s doing a talk on coordinating care post-transplant with pharmacists.”

  “Sounds interesting.”

  “You should go, he gives a mean talk.” Pete nodded slightly, looking into the middle distance, like he was remembering talks past.

  “I will.”

  “Hey, do you have a ride out there?”

  “Haven’t planned it yet. Are you going?”

  “No, but I know Dr. Chaudry is. You should ask him if he’s got room.”

  It turned out Dr. Chaudry was leaving a day early, though, so he couldn’t chip in for that ride.

  Dr. Chaudry frowned into space. “You know, I think Elias is driving too. You should check in with him.”

  “Okay. If you think it wouldn’t be imposing.”

  “Oh, no. He hates driving alone. He’s probably already got a person or two lined up, but I’d bet there’s room for one more. I don’t know if he’s going to stay at the hotel there, though.”

  “I’ve got a room with some of the guys, so as long as he’s at least going over the first day and coming back the last, it could work.”

  “Yeah, definitely check with him.”

  Neil spent the rest of the afternoon internally debating whether to drop by and see Eli in person, or send an email.

  He chickened out in the end and sent an email. Dear Eli, I heard you might have room in your car for the ride to and from ACS? Sincerely, Neil

  He got a reply within five minutes. Sure do! Also, isn’t tomorrow your birthday? Happy 32nd!

  It gave him butterflies he hadn’t felt about just presenting his talk—it was one of the ten-minute talks, nothing exceptional, but a step up from the poster he’d done at ASC the year before.

  Stop, he told his brain. Just stop. He’s a—mentor. Friend.

  His brain unhelpfully responded by filling in the way Eli had smiled, leaning over at that birthday dinner the year before.

  * * *

  He wasn’t sure until the moment they actually left whether Eli had other people along for the ride. He knew it was simultaneously selfish and self-defeating, but he found himself hoping that it was only going to be the two of them.

  Eli texted him: Just got here. He’d insisted on coming to pick Neil up from his apartment.

  “Okay,” Neil had said the night before, cradling his cell phone under his chin while he typed in an electronic med order.

  Now Neil hefted his duffel bag and went out to meet Eli.

  There was no one else in the car. Eli was popping the trunk for his bag. “So.” Neil tried to be casual as he tossed his bag in. “Are we picking up anyone on our way out?”

  “No, I leave pretty early in the morning for most of the Cardio folks.”

  “Okay. I brought a mix if we want to listen to it.”

  Eli laughed. “Why not? I hope it’s not just Nicki, though.”

  “You go to karaoke one time.”

  “Oh, I doubt very much that it was just one time,” said Eli as he got in. They slammed their doors shut, and he started up the engine, pulling smoothly out of the definitely illegal parking spot in the fire lane in front of Neil’s building. “You strike me as someone with some experience in that department.”

  “Anyway,” said Neil, holding up the disc he’d pulled out of his bag before he chucked it in the trunk. “Do you want to hear it or not?”

  “Sure, put it on.”

  It was a fun mix, Neil thought, mostly pop, nothing too loud or jarring, and it just about filled the drive.

  They spent the ride talking—sometimes Eli stopped, midsentence, to lean forward and squint out at the traffic, which was inexplicably terrible. Neil started to hum, and then sing, along to one of his favorites.

  Eli chimed in on the next line, and they locked eyes for a second before both bursting into full-throated song. It turned out Eli actually was a baritone, after all.

  When it ticked over to the next song, Neil said, “That’s it, you’re coming to the next karaoke night.”

  “Oh, no. My image doesn’t need that.”

  “We’ll ban the cell phone cameras.”

  “Good luck with that. No, cardiologists need to preserve whatever dignity we can.”

  “Losing battle, right there.” Neil raised his eyebrows. Eli laughed out loud and rolled his window down, even though the AC was going; a breeze whipping in ruffled through his hair, and Neil knew he was staring, but he couldn’t help it, didn’t want to help it.

  When they finally pulled up to the conference center, Eli said, “Do you want me to drop you off up front before I go park?”

  “No, I’ll just walk up with you. I’m not sure where registration is and you’ve been here before, right?”

  “Yeah, I have.” Eli managed to find a spot in a parking garage not too far from the hotel.

  Eli walked with him to the check-in, where they both got their name tags and programs. Neil started flipping through it for the talks that looked the most interesting.

  “Morning talk on robotics, think I’ll hit that up.”

  “Mmm, me too,” said Eli.

  “We’ve got this afternoon off if we want it.”

  “Yes, it makes it easier for me to head back tonight. I’m anticipating having more trouble with the drive after tomorrow—there’s more socializing.”

  “I’d offer to let you crash with me, but there’s four guys to two beds, so even if we got a cot I don’t think you’d be very comfortable.”

  Eli raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything for a minute. “I’m glad you found people to room with. That must—keep the costs down.”

  “It does.” Neil paused. “And they’re—they all know about me. It’s not a thing.”

  “Okay,” said Eli. “I—Well. I worry about you.”

  “That’s sweet.” Neil gave Eli a small smile that he knew didn’t reach his eyes. “But I’ve had some practice with this, and it’s easier this way.”

  “Easier—how?”

  “Being out. Really out. It’s... I know who’s going to have a problem with me, and they have a chance to try to avoid me, and it works out better than waiting for somebody to, I don’t know, find me out.”

  Eli had cocked his head to one side, listening carefully, though he wasn’t making eye contact.

  “That’s interesting,” said Eli, at length. “I don’t know that I would have expected that.”

  “Well, it’s a different time, right?”

  Eli nodded slowly. “I trained when—AIDS started showing up when I was in junior high. By the time I was in med school, the crisis was in full swing and all we had to treat it was zidovudine. I think an out doctor back then would have had a pretty tough time of it.” He ended the sentence on a sigh. “I certainly didn’t know any. The rest of the hospital would have just assumed he had AIDS.”

  “But it’s not like there weren’t queer doctors.” Neil saw Eli flinch a little. “Sorry. Gay.” They’d wandered toward the elevators but come to a halt as they talked, standing by a coupl
e of huge potted ferns.

  “Or bisexual,” said Eli. “There were—I have to imagine there were even trans doctors, but I would guess very few of them came out then.”

  “Yeah. It’s still rough for them.”

  Eli shook his head a little. “It’s part of why I’m so—invested in the diversity initiative. How many good doctors did we miss out on? How many are we still missing out on, because they didn’t want to put up with the culture in medicine?”

  “Surgery’s got to be worse than Cardio. It’s so full of cowboys.”

  Eli gave a fleeting smile. “You might be surprised. I’ve heard some pretty shocking things over the years.”

  Neil shook his head too.

  “Anyway.” Eli gestured at his bag. “You’ll want to check in and drop that off. See you at the talk?”

  “Yeah.” Neil was trying and failing to keep from letting a smile onto his face at that. “Save me a seat.”

  “Will do.” Eli moved off toward the vendor booths that were already set up, leaving Neil to go to the front desk and get his key. His roommates weren’t there yet, so he just stopped long enough to pull out a relatively unwrinkled button-up shirt from his bag.

  One of the guys came in while he was running a comb through his hair. “Oh, hey,” said—Josh? He thought it was Josh, but it might have been Joe; he was one of the brand-new interns, with a strong research interest.

  “Hey.” Neil waved a little.

  “You called a bed yet?”

  “Yeah, by the window.” His bag was on it.

  “Okay, cool. I’ll dibs the other one. If one of the guys doesn’t show, we got a fifty-fifty shot of getting a bed to ourselves.”

  “Living the dream,” said Neil wryly. Josh laughed.

  “Heading down already?”

  “Yeah, there’s a talk I want to see.”

  He made it back down to the talk in plenty of time, trickling in with some other attendees about ten minutes before the panel was due to start.

  He took a look around and spotted Eli immediately; that shining silver hair was like a beacon. He sat down on the folding chair next to him and was rewarded with a smile as Eli looked up from the program.

  “Did you see there’s a workshop on flexible endoscopy tomorrow?” Eli waved the program at him. “It looks good.”

  “Yeah, I’m going to try to get some hands-on time at that.”

  “Good plan.”

  Without talking much about it, he and Eli ended up going to the same sessions the rest of the morning. When the afternoon rolled around and Neil was expecting Eli to be ready to leave, Eli paused. “I’m starving. Do you want to get lunch before I head back?”

  “Sure.” Neil couldn’t hold in his smile and didn’t try to. If he was making Eli uncomfortable—well, then Eli probably wouldn’t have invited him to lunch, would he?

  They picked a place about a block from the hotel, just a greasy little diner that served burgers and hot dogs. They both got burgers.

  Eli made an irritated noise, trying to juggle the little paper cups of ketchup he was carrying back to their table by the window. “Someday, someone’s going to invent a better version of this,” he muttered.

  Neil laughed, feeling at ease and content. “You need a hand?”

  “No, no, I’ve got it.” Eli managed to set them and his basket of fries down without any incidents.

  Neil felt something wet dripping down his hand. “Damn,” he said, glancing down to see grease running out of his burger and along his pinky finger to the side of his hand, threatening the cuff of his shirt. He lifted his hand to his mouth and licked up the grease without thinking about it.

  When he looked back up, Eli was staring at him. Eli gave his head a half shake. “So what are you planning for the afternoon?”

  “Well, I’m going to hit up the vendor booths, see if anyone has cool toys for me to play with.”

  “Oh, they do. I already got to cauterize bacon.”

  “Didn’t know bacon could be a bleeder,” said Neil, grinning.

  “Well, this batch wasn’t. It smells a bit better than people, though.”

  “I don’t know, people don’t smell that bad.”

  “Isn’t that almost worse, though? It feels like the smell should be more disgusting than it is.”

  “As long as I don’t go Donner Party on them, I think it’s fine.”

  Eli laughed almost silently, powerful shoulders shaking. Neil asked Eli about one of the presenters, and Eli had some stories from shared days at McGill.

  When they finally got up to leave after lunch, Eli said, “I’ll walk you back to the hotel.”

  “Sounds good. Are you sure you got enough of the booths? You could wander them longer, get more pencils.”

  Eli rolled his eyes expressively. “If I never get another free pencil, I will be just fine.”

  “It’s funny. There are orthopods here who make probably a cool million a year, and they’re still grubbing for the free pens like everybody else.”

  “Did you just say ‘a cool million’? What are you, a gangster?”

  “You got me. My other job is the Mafia.”

  Eli laughed again. Neil thought he’d never heard Eli laugh as much or look as relaxed as he had that day. It was a good look on him.

  “Look,” Eli said, “I’ve got to get going, but I’ll see you tomorrow at the endo session?”

  “Sounds good. Take care.”

  Eli hesitated for a second, but went in for a one-armed hug that took Neil by surprise; he managed to hug back, briefly, before Eli pulled away.

  “Good to see you today.” Eli had a bittersweet smile.

  “You too.”

  He watched Eli walk away and thought, That felt—that felt like I was on a date.

  * * *

  He couldn’t shake the thought as he played with the cool new toys the vendors had, from new suture materials to the bacon-cautery station Eli had mentioned. Finally, that night, he texted Mark about it. Mark hadn’t made it to ACS; he’d gotten the short straw and was covering for the rest of them, mostly because he hadn’t wanted to put together an abstract. “I’m not a researcher,” he’d said, “and I don’t need the continuing medical education credits and I don’t want to spend the money.”

  So in the hotel room, one of the guys snoring at his elbow, Neil said, Hey u awake

  yeah what is it

  I had a weird day, and then he added, but good weird

  yeah? whats up

  He told Mark about the drive in, going to the same talks, lunch. Who says “I’ll walk you back”? this feels weird. is this a thing?

  man i hate to break it to you but it is not a thing, he’s just being cool

  He sighed into the darkness. The guy next to him rolled away from the dim light of the cell phone screen, snuffling faintly.

  yeah I know. Thanks

  * * *

  His phone buzzed at six thirty, when he was brushing his teeth. He checked it; it was an email from Eli.

  Leaving now, thought you should have my cell, he said, and included the number.

  Neil had to set his phone down and breathe for a minute before he could finish.

  This was a terrible idea. He shouldn’t spend a—a sunny fall San Francisco day with Eli, pretending they were close, pretending they were on a date. It was just the worst idea.

  He didn’t bother telling himself that he wasn’t going to do it, though.

  * * *

  He texted Eli when he made it into the session. Hey, it’s Neil. Don’t see you yet

  Just parking, be there in a couple of minutes

  There was a certain thrill to reading that.

  I’ll save you a seat

  Sure enough, about five minu
tes later Eli made it in. “Are you going to drive in every day of the conference?” Neil asked, moving the program he’d set on the empty chair next to him.

  Eli sighed, dropping into the chair. “Yes. It’s seeming like a worse and worse idea, but it’s what I went with.” He shifted, checking his own program. “When’s your talk?”

  “Tomorrow. You going to come?”

  Eli smiled fleetingly. “Do you need moral support?”

  “Need, no. Want, always.”

  “Then I’ll go.”

  He smiled at Eli, and Eli smiled back. Jesus. He was screwed.

  * * *

  The next day was his presentation. He didn’t hear from Eli in the morning, and by the time he made it to the session where he was doing one of the brief talks, he was a bundle of nerves.

  But when he had finished plugging in his flash drive to transfer his PowerPoint file to the desktop—he’d done it all both on a PC and a Mac just in case—he caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye; it was Eli, grinning at him. Eli gave him a thumbs-up, and he gave Eli a little smile in return.

  It made the talk easier and harder at the same time. But he’d practiced it enough that he could slide smoothly into the discussion of esophageal stenosis. When he finished, the two-minute question period was filled, and he had to leave while saying, “Feel free to find me afterward and ask me if you have any more questions!”

  After the session, Eli came up to him. “Tough work.” He smiled. “Well done. Have you had lunch yet?”

  “No, and I’m starving. But no burgers.”

  “Yeah, let’s just get something at the hotel café.”

  Over their overpriced, undersized sandwiches on slightly stale bread, Neil said, “Can I ask you something?”

  Eli visibly tensed. “Of course.” His calm voice was at odds with his posture.

  “Why did you leave McGill?”

  Eli’s shoulders relaxed incrementally. “Well,” he said, slowly, “I was—Tricia and I were divorcing at the time. And we’d worked together there, you know. They’d offered us a package deal when they were recruiting. She had dual citizenship, so it worked out pretty smoothly. But it was—pretty painful, to keep going to a place where I’d been, been married when I wasn’t anymore.”