The Physician's Tale

by Ann Benson

  The midwife stepped forward. “A woman, a physician…This is forbidden, by God and the law!”

  She turned toward the door but managed to take only one step before Kate had her firmly by the arm.

  “Let go!” she said, struggling to free herself.

  But Kate held her fast and spoke a gilded warning, very close to her ear. “Your help will be needed, so you must stay. Someone must pull the child out when the cuts are made. You are a midwife, so that task should fall to you, with your considerable skills.”

  Now de Chauliac and Alejandro flanked the woman, one on each side. She swooned, then fainted; the two men guided her limp body down to the floor so that she would not be hurt.

  Kate slipped out of the room, to gather what was required.

  The birthing chair was set aside; the lad who carried it for the midwife was sent away with a coin in his hand, stunned by his sudden good fortune. The footman at the front door was ordered not to let anyone in or out of the maison. De Chauliac’s drawings were found in the library and brought to the birth room. The instruments of surgery were laid out, clean and gleaming, on a cloth at the foot of the bed. The midwife had been brought out of her faint. All was ready, save the surgeon himself.

  Alejandro stood over Philomène’s exposed abdomen with the knife in his hand, his face ashen and his hands trembling.

  “I cannot,” he said. He looked to de Chauliac. “Colleague, will you…”

  Reluctantly, de Chauliac took the knife from Alejandro’s hand and assumed the necessary position over Philomène’s abdomen.

  “Forgive me, Madame,” he said to Philomène. “Are you ready?”

  “I am,” she whispered. “God help me, I am.”

  Too much blood, there is too much blood, Alejandro thought as he watched the red liquid spill out of the incision.

  Too deep! The cut is too deep, she will die and my child will be lost….

  But the cut was perfect; de Chauliac worked quickly but carefully, slicing only through the skin, making certain that he did not cut the muscle below it. Though her terror was calmed by laudanum, it was plain to all that Philomène felt every bit of what was being done to her. She bravely clenched down hard on a wooden spoon, biting to keep the exquisite pain at bay so she might remain still. She wept aloud as layer after layer of her skin was rent by the fine sharp knife in de Chauliac’s hand.

  Alejandro held her arms down, so tightly sometimes that he feared he would break the bones. Kate wiped her forehead and smoothed back the tendrils of hair that stuck to her sweaty skin.

  With his hands still at work on Philomène’s belly, de Chauliac glanced at Kate. “Hold up the drawing of the uterus,” he ordered. “To my right side, so I can see it clearly.”

  She found it among the other drawings and gave it to the midwife, who held it up in de Chauliac’s line of sight. For a moment he seemed unsure of what to do; then, with a deep sigh, he pulled aside the muscles to expose her uterus. The tight, shiny surface of the organ undulated as the child, eager to be born, moved within it.

  “May God guide my hand,” he said. He pressed the knife into the taut and distended outer surface of her womb.

  The servants heard Philomène’s screams all the way to the basement kitchen. She let out one long, keening wail, and then she went silent.

  Though he was still in a state of shock, Alejandro took the infant in his arms after the midwife wiped away the remains of the birth and declared the child healthy and sound. He carried the precious bundle out of the room, as he had done at Guillaume’s birth, while de Chauliac removed what was left of Philomène’s ruined womb.

  He found his grandson waiting outside the door, with a terrified look on his face. The boy, like everyone else, had heard the screams.

  He kneeled down and presented the baby to Guillaume. “I would like you to meet your—”

  He stopped, not knowing what to say. This child, his daughter, was sister to Guillaume’s mother. “Your aunt, I suppose,” he said.

  He pulled aside the cloth that covered the baby’s face, so Guillaume could see her. The newborn opened her lips slightly as if to speak but made only a small mewing sound, then closed her mouth again. Guillaume smiled and tentatively touched the baby’s cheek.

  “So soft,” the little boy said.

  “Yes,” Alejandro said. He remembered the feel of Guillaume himself in his arms when the boy was but a few moments old. “Just like you.”

  And just like her mother.

  He rose up and left his grandson alone, then took the baby to Kate. He went to his own room and wept bitterly, alone.

  Thirty-four

  They made their way up the mountainside in just more than half the time it took Janie to cover the distance on Jellybean. As the sun set, Lany and Bruce, followed by their two companions, came through the gate into the courtyard of the compound.

  Caroline was the first to see them. She stood very still for a moment and looked at Bruce, not saying what was in her mind, that he was not by any measure the same man he’d been. But she let the disquiet caused by his appearance go and walked straight up to him.

  After a long embrace of welcome, she pulled back and smiled.

  “Have I thanked you recently for everything you did for me?”

  Sarah came running up behind her but shrank back behind her mother’s leg in fear when she saw Bruce.

  “It’s okay, baby,” Caroline said to her daughter. “This is an old friend of mine and Janie’s.” She rubbed Sarah’s shoulder. “He’s come here to help Alex.”

  Her look to Bruce completed the sentence: Hasn’t he?

  Bruce nodded.

  “Well, follow me, then.”

  Bruce looked around in wonder at the place where Janie had spent her life for nearly all of the time since he’d last seen her. When they reached the lodge’s main room, Caroline said, “Wait here for a moment.”

  She went to the bedroom. Janie was sleeping, draped over the bedside. Tom was in the chair, with his good leg stretched out in front of him. He, too, was asleep, but his stirrings told Caroline that his sleep was fitful. She closed the door behind her as she entered.

  With Caroline’s gentle touch on her shoulder, Janie came awake. She sat up and rubbed her hands over her face. Her first act was to take hold of Alex’s wrist; wild relief rushed through her when she felt his warmth.

  She turned around. “They’re here?”

  Caroline nodded.

  Janie glanced back at her son, then looked to Caroline again. “I couldn’t wait for them to get here; now I don’t know if I’m ready.”

  “Take a moment to get yourself…awake, before you come out. I’ll go back out and keep them company until you’re ready.”

  Ready or not, the moment had come. Janie stood and walked over to her husband, who was awakening in the chair. She stood and faced him.

  “I love you,” she said quietly. “Nothing will ever change that.”

  He pointed to the place where his leg had been. “Not this?”

  “Tom…” she groaned. “Please…don’t—”

  He made a small wave of his hand, then nodded toward the main room. “Or that?”

  She was quiet for a moment, but when she spoke, her voice was firm. “There’s been a lot of water under the bridge since then.”

  Tom’s gaze drifted to the floor. “Yes. There has. And despite everything we’ve been through, we’ve done pretty well.” He looked up again, seeking confirmation from his wife.

  “Miraculously well.”

  “But this changes everything, you have to admit.”

  She was about to say, No, I don’t have to admit that, but she knew it would come out sounding angry. Instead, she said simply, “We have a son, a home, a family—even if it is unusual—a life that we’ve worked hard to create. And there isn’t anything that would make me put it all in jeopardy. This is a good life; if you want the truth, this is as content as I’ve ever been. Oh, I miss the work I did before and the way I was able
to do it, but I’m getting a practice back together again.” She smiled. “It’s not so bad being a country doctor. It’s hard sometimes, but truly—this is enough for me. We get by with what we have and we have more every day. I need you and Alex, and Kristina, and everyone else. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

  Tom hobbled forward on his crutch. When he reached her, he leaned it against Alex’s bed and balanced on one foot. He wrapped his arms around his wife and held her close.

  “Wait,” Caroline said when Janie finally came out. “There’s something I should tell you before—about Bruce…”

  Janie stopped short. “What?”

  “He’s—not the same.”

  Janie took her hand off the doorknob. “What do you mean?”

  “His face…Janie, it’s mostly scars. Something terrible must have happened to him. I had to bite my tongue to keep from reacting.”

  Janie stood there for a moment. She said a quiet “Thanks,” took a deep breath, and went into the main room.

  He was there by himself; Lany had seen to it that everyone else found something to do elsewhere. When Janie entered, he had his back to her. When he heard her steps, he turned and faced her fully.

  The line of his scarring went straight down the middle of his face. One eye was off-kilter; a large tear dripped from the outside corner. She stared at him for a few moments, saying nothing.

  Finally, he spoke. “You look…wonderful.”

  “So do you.”

  “Janie, please…”

  She closed her eyes for a few seconds, then opened them again. She stepped forward and took one of his scarred hands in hers. She kissed the rough tissue lightly. “In my eyes, you will always look like you did the last time I saw you.”

  “I wish I could remember myself that way.”

  She laughed lightly, then pressed his hand against her cheek. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye; Bruce used his fingertip to wipe it away.

  “I hope that didn’t hurt you,” he said. “My skin, it’s so rough….”

  “If it did, I wouldn’t be able to feel it anyway. I’m completely numb.”

  “Understandable.” He reached into one pocket and brought something out in his closed hand. “Give me your hand,” he said with a smile. “I brought you a little gift.”

  He put the lemon in her hand. With a look of astonishment, she turned it over and examined it. Then she brought it to her face and took a long sniff of the fragrance.

  “Oh, my God, where did this come from?”

  Just as she was about to sink her teeth into the peel, Caroline hurried into the main room. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but he’s been saying things, words that don’t make any sense.”

  As Janie turned to go back to the sickroom, Bruce caught her by the wrist. “I brought something else,” he said. “It might help.”

  The two men stood face-to-face for the first time. They stared at each other for a few moments, each one wondering if his own imperfection was the greater. After a time, Bruce extended his scarred right hand.

  “I want to thank you for everything you did to try to get that visa,” he said.

  Tom balanced on one crutch and put out his own hand for the shake. It was firm and genuine. “I’m sorry it took so long,” he said.

  Bruce laughed quietly. He shook his head and said, “No you’re not.” He glanced at Janie briefly, then smiled back at Tom. “And if you really did drag your feet, I can’t say that I blame you. I probably would have done the same.”

  For a few seconds no one said anything. Then Alex stirred in the bed, reminding them all of why they were in that room.

  “We have work to do,” Bruce said. He slipped his backpack off his shoulders and began to fish around in it. He pulled out the vial of green gold that he’d brought from Worcester.

  “We have to get this into his stomach somehow. It’s an enzyme base, but I haven’t been able to figure out how the effective part of it leaches out. I can’t think of any other way to give it to him.”

  They fashioned a feeding tube of sorts and slipped it into Alex’s throat. Janie prayed her silent thanks that her son was not conscious to experience the extreme discomfort he would feel on having the tube slide down his esophagus. When the liquid was gone from the vial, they pulled it out again.

  Tom and Janie sat side by side and held each other’s hand, with Bruce standing behind them; all three watched over the second coming of Alejandro as he mumbled out the details of what his mother had read to him, sweating out Alejandro’s memories. The familiar names poured out of Alex’s mouth all night long as the medicine that Bruce had brought with him from Worcester spread slowly through his body.

  They kept their vigil as Alex called out in anguish to Adele and whispered the name Philomène with loving reverence. Janie mopped sweat from his forehead as he arched his back and cried out to Eduardo Hernandez, Sir John Chandos, Guillaume Karle, and all the others whose paths he had crossed in his first iteration. She wiped the tears from his cheeks as he called to Kate and heard his pain as he spoke to Avram Canches. He said “De Chauliac,” over and over and over.

  It was not until the next night that he opened his eyes again. His first word then was Mom.

  “You’ve got a good toothbrush, so don’t forget to use it, and ask Bruce to boil it for you once in a while.”

  “I’ll make sure he does it,” Lany said.

  Janie glanced up at her with a silent Thanks, then looked back at Alex again. “I know you’ll remember to wash your hands.”

  “Of course I will,” Alex said. “You only tell me a hundred times a day.”

  “That’s my job,” she said. “I won’t be there to do it, so you’ll have to remember on your own.”

  “No I won’t,” the little boy said. “Bruce will remind me.”

  Yes, I suppose he will.

  “Okay. Go make sure you have everything I told you to pack.”

  He ran off.

  “Where’s Bruce?” Janie said to Lany.

  “In the lab, I think.”

  Janie left the main room of the lodge and went to the lab. As Lany had said, he was there, looking over some results of tests that Kristina had done on Alex’s blood.

  She stood in the door for a moment, until Bruce noticed she was there.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “It’s getting on time to leave,” she told him. A fretful look came onto her face. “I reminded Alex about brushing his teeth, and—”

  “We’ll take good care of him, I promise.”

  “Are you sure you need him? I mean, isn’t there some other way….”

  “You tell me,” Bruce said. “Is there some other way?”

  After a quiet pause, Janie said, “No. I guess there isn’t.”

  “His blood mounted a terrific immune response to that bacteria. If we can figure out how it all came together, we might be able to create a pharmaceutical shortcut that—”

  “Just take his blood.”

  “You know the response will develop over time.” He came closer to her. “He wants to go. He’s excited. Lany will be there, and I will too, and there are lots of other children.”

  “He’s going to pester you about continuing his medical education—”

  “I look forward to teaching him. He’s a brilliant little boy and he can make a huge difference in the world. Please, Janie, don’t stand in his way.”

  “This is payback, isn’t it?…I stole your heart, now you’re stealing mine….”

  “Stop it. It’s not like you’re never going to see him again. If this works like we think it will, things will open up—the Coalition will be powerless, because they won’t have that weapon of mass destruction. Your son will have neutralized it.”

  She was quiet for a few moments. “Please, the second you get there, let me know.”

  “I will, I promise. We’re going to Orange first to pick up a few more people, then we’ll stop in that mill complex you and Lany saw on the way to Worcester
. I think we should make contact, find out if they’re friendlies, ask them about the graves. And if they are, we’ll have a whole new bunch of allies.”

  And so on, and so on, and so on. She knew he was right, but to watch her son go out the door at the tender age of seven was so excruciating that Janie could barely face it.

  Bruce steered her away from the pain. “Tom’s doing well with that new leg.”

  “Yeah, he is. He says it fits really well. I can’t thank you enough.”

  “Well, you’ll have to pay me when things are a little smoother. I’m expecting to have some of this scar tissue replaced. You’re the only surgeon I know.”

  “Just say when.”

  “After we get settled and get this whole process in place with Alex. There’s plenty of time.”

  Janie smiled. “There is, isn’t there?”

  Bruce smiled back. “Yeah. And by the way, did you notice…”

  He pointed toward the terrariums. There were blossoms on the lemon tree.

  Thirty-five

  Kate and Alejandro stood in de Chauliac’s courtyard and watched the midwife hurry off with a small fortune in gold clutched tightly to her breast. No one, least of all the woman herself, would deny that it was a bribe and nothing more. Her payment for the work of birthing would have been no more than the hundredth part of what she carried away with her.

  “How long do you think she will keep our secret?” Kate asked.

  “Until the gold is gone. Then she will be back for more, have no doubt.”

  “And suppose we do not give it to her?…It cannot last forever.”

  “Then she will sell our tale to someone who will give her what she wants. She will first reveal me as the Jew who humiliated her former mistress in a feigned romance, and then if that does not bring enough, she will reveal that Philomène practiced as a physician. De Chauliac will not be able to help us, nor should he. We must not allow our misfortunes to taint him. His integrity must not be compromised. There is much work to be done still on his Cyrurgia, and he must have the luxury of all the time he needs.”