Part 13 (1/2)
Stacey adjusted her red gla.s.ses. ”What's up?”
”The Director of Immunology is Dineesh . . . ?”
”Dineesh Pawar.”
”I sent him an e-mail request for a meeting, but I never heard back. Can you help me get in with him?” Shane smiled plaintively.
She c.o.c.ked her Sicilian head. ”Dennis mentioned you in a senior management meeting. Good feedback coming in.”
”Thanks.”
”I'll see his a.s.sistant tonight. I'll get you a slot, no worries.”
The following day, Shane received notice that a meeting had been arranged in Dineesh's office. He found the Director of Immunology to be a surprisingly handsome man. Six feet tall, with a head full of slicked-back black hair, and perfect white teeth. He could have been, Shane felt, a Bollywood star. He wore a white s.h.i.+rt tucked into pleated black pants. A gold chain was visible inside his collar.
”Alpha-one ant.i.trypsin deficiency,” Dineesh considered, standing near his desk. His voice was quite deep. ”Mutation of a gene on chromosome fourteen.”
”I know a little girl who was born with it.”
Dineesh nodded. ”Pretty rare stuff. You'd have to address the mutated gene, wouldn't you?” Dineesh shook his head, looking at his BlackBerry. ”A thousand f.u.c.king e-mails around here, you know?”
”If we had the beginning of a treatment, would we ever apply for an orphan grant?”
Dineesh's dark eyes snapped up, an amused expression on his face. ”For infant-onset alpha-one ant.i.trypsin deficiency? Very rare. Too rare for us, man.”
As he walked around his desk looking at his phone, it was clear he had already moved on.
But Shane had not.
Caleb widened his eyes and made a funny face down to Lily.
She was surprisingly smiley for a baby who had slept so little. Something in the humid late August air was ratcheting up the tenor of her wheezing, and June had taken her into her bed at night out of fear.
Despite this interrupted sleep, she was growing, developing, in ways that astonished them all. Watching Lily became house sport; they applauded her, cheered for her, pa.s.sed her from person to person, and she seemed to thrive with their attention. She would glance up at Alice, Rae, John, Juan, tighten her jaw, and a look of determination would sweep across her face, and she would pull herself panting across the wide wood floor.
”It's her personality,” John told them, running a hand through his crew-cut white hair. ”That's a determined girl.”
Caleb never saw her unattended to. He supposed this was as good a way to be a child as any.
As September swept over the mountains, Caleb's teeth began aching. He was nearly forty-four and had not seen a dentist in eight years; he expected some decline in his dental health. But recently he had needed to keep his mouth closed against even the slightest breeze. Brus.h.i.+ng his front teeth had become outrageous.
Caleb knocked on Mack's closed door.
”Yo,” came a shout.
Caleb found him s.h.i.+rtless at a small and cluttered desk, facing a window that looked onto the pines across the road. Countless running magazines littered the floor. A bare futon with two crumpled blue sheets lay by the window. Tacked to the wall were maps of Yosemite National Park, in various sizes and details. On the far wall hung a white marker board with training, work, and ch.o.r.e schedules for each of them. Mack was online. Internet access was prohibited to all members, but he had possession of a battered Dell.
”Dude. Barry just sent me the course. It's wicked. It is the f.u.c.king devil.”
Caleb took a tentative step closer and peered at the screen. ”This is Yosemite?”
”I know spring feels like forever away, but it's only seven months.” Mack looked at him with his dancing bright blue eyes. ”You ever been there? Yosemite Park?”
”I never have.”
”I went in college. Tripped and camped for days. It's so beautiful. Half Dome is from another universe. Whoever climbs it and wins this is going to feel like G.o.d.” Mack clicked his mouse and the computer went dark. Then he swiveled on his chair and looked at him. In a very different voice he asked, ”What's up?”
”My teeth hurt.”
”Front or back?”
”Front.”
”Enamel.” He flicked his own teeth with a fingernail. ”When you mouth-breathe during runs, the air dries out your enamel. All that friction thins it right down to the nerves. Surprised it hasn't happened to you before, dude.”
Caleb felt a question emerging. Later he would wonder if it was a challenge. ”Why don't you do some reiki?”
”As long as you're running mouth open? It's going to get worse. Better to do some visualizations on running with your mouth closed. After a month or two the enamel will recover.”
Caleb swallowed. ”I want to take Lily to a doctor.”
Mack looked at him. ”You do. Where?”
”I want to get her to New York or someplace.”
”New York,” Mack repeated.
”Maybe there's an expert. Maybe there's a new drug.”
”You remember what happened to Hope?”
Caleb swallowed.
”She'd been with us three years when she got that tumor in her t.i.tty. I was healing it, it was disappearing, but she kept on doubting me, kept on asking everyone if she should see a doctor. Doubt is as much of a cancer as a tumor. You remember what happened?”
Caleb nodded. Mack had driven Hope to Boulder Community Hospital and never went back for her.
”When I healed Kevin's diabetes, there were no experts or drugs. But it took half a year. Lily's problems are within her own body. It starts there. It stops there. These are serious problems and I need more than three months to rebalance her energy. Natural healing takes time. But, brother, I'm the reason Lily's still breathing.”
”We know that.”
Mack stared at him. ”Look at you. Your focus is just f.u.c.king gone dude. You fell off Engineer. You're all”-Mack waved his hands in the air-”scattered. Now you want to take them to New York? Maybe you just want to go back there, and they're your excuse.”
”No,” Caleb stated nervously.