Part 24 (1/2)
”How many children do you have?” said Joe.
”Four,” she said. And then she added, ”So far.”
”You're very lucky,” said Joe.
”I keep telling myself so,” she said.
”You see,” said Joe, ”my wife and I don't have any.”
”I'm so so sorry,” she said. sorry,” she said.
”That's why my wife and I have come to see your husband,” said Joe.
”I see,” she said.
”We came all the way from Ohio,” said Joe.
”Ohio?” she said. She looked startled. ”You mean you just moved to Chicago from Ohio?”
”Ohio's still our home,” said Joe. ”We're up here just to see your husband.”
She looked so puzzled now that Joe had to ask, ”Is there another Dr. Abekian?”
”No,” she said. And then she said, too quickly, too watchfully, too brightly to make Joe think he really had come to the right place, ”No, no-there's only one. My husband's the man you want.”
”I heard he'd done some wonderful things with sterility cases,” said Joe.
”Oh, yes, yes, yes-he has, he has,” she said. ”May-may I ask who recommended him?”
”My wife heard a lot of talk around about him,” said Joe.
”I see,” she said.
”We wanted the best,” said Joe, ”and my wife asked around, and she decided he was was the best.” the best.”
She nodded, frowned ever so slightly. ”Uh-huh,” she said.
Dr. Abekian himself now came out of his office, shepherding a mournful, old, old woman. He was a tall, flas.h.i.+ly handsome man-flashy by reason of his even white teeth and dark skin. There was a lot of the sharpness and dazzle of a nightclub master of ceremonies about him. At the same time, Dr. Abekian revealed an underlying embarra.s.sment about his looks, too. He gave Joe the impression that he would have preferred, on occasion anyway, a more conservative exterior.
”There must be something I could take that would make me feel better than I do,” the old, old woman said to him.
”You take these new pills,” he said to her gently. ”They may be just what you've been looking for. If not, we'll try, try, try again.” He waved the boy with the broken arm into his office.
”Len-” said his wife.
”Hm?” he said.
”This man,” she said, indicating Joe, ”this man and his wife came all the way from Ohio to see you.”
In spite of herself, she made Joe's trip seem such a peculiar thing that Joe was now dead certain that a big, foolish mistake had been made.
”Ohio?” said Dr. Abekian. His incredulity was frank. He arched his thick, dark eyebrows. ”All the way from Ohio?” he said.
”I heard people from all over the country came to see you,” said Joe.
”Who told you that?” he said.
”My wife,” said Joe.
”She knows me?” said Dr. Abekian.
”No,” said Joe. ”She just heard about you.”
”From whom?” said the doctor.
”Woman talk,” said Joe.
”I-I'm very flattered,” said Dr. Abekian. ”As you can see,” he said, spreading his long-fingered hands, ”I'm a neighborhood general pract.i.tioner. I won't pretend that I'm a specialist, and I won't pretend that anyone has ever traveled any great distance to see me before.”
”Then I beg your pardon,” said Joe. ”I don't know how this happened.”
”Ohio?” said Dr. Abekian.
”That's right,” said Joe.
”Cincinnati?” said the doctor.
”No,” said Joe. He named the town.
”Even if it were Cincinnati,” said the doctor, ”it wouldn't make much sense. Years ago, I was a medical student in Cincinnati, but I never practiced there.”
”My wife was a nursing student in Cincinnati,” said Joe.
”Oh, she was?” said the doctor, thinking for a moment that he'd found a clue. The clue faded. ”But she doesn't know me.”
”No,” said Joe.
Dr. Abekian shrugged. ”So the mystery remains a mystery,” he said. ”Since you've come all this distance-if there's anything I can do-”
”They want children,” said the doctor's wife. ”They haven't had any.”
”You've no doubt been to many specialists before coming all this distance,” said the doctor.
”No,” said Joe.
”At least your own family doctor, anyway-” said Dr. Abekian.
Joe shook his head.
”You haven't taken this matter up with your own doctor?” said Dr. Abekian, unable to make sense of the fact. ”No,” said Joe.