Chapter Six

A quick knock and an open door could mean only one person in particular walked into his office. Trapper didn’t even look up. “Gonzo, do you think you could wait, at least, until you’re invited in?”

“Why Trap? You’ve usually got your head bent over your desk. It’s not like I’m gonna catch you in the act of…” Gonzo shoved his hands into his coat pockets, turned slightly and tightened his lips together, “…arguing…with Ms. Haverty.”

Trapper looked up from his reading material and hovered his right hand over the keyboard of his computer. “Mark told me I could look up information about organ transplants. I’m trying to figure out how to do that.”

Leaning over Trapper’s shoulder, Gonzo watched as Trapper typed something. “What kind of information?”

“Statistics mainly, by the surgeons who performed them. There, you see; Dr. Avery’s surgeries, by date, gender, age of the patient, procedure and success or failure. How old do you think the Ice Queen is?”

Gonzo straightened up. “Uh, Trap. Is there something about Leah you’re not telling me?”

“Leah?” said Trapper, looking up at Gonzo over his glasses. “How’d you get to be on a first name basis with her?”

“She volunteers at the university’s children’s hospital. I met her there when I was transferring a patient. Did you know she donated her time to install their system?”

The buzzer on Trapper’s telephone sounded, and as he reached for the phone, he said, “Does the word dichotomy mean anything to you? McIntyre. Thanks, Ann.” Pushing another button on the phone, Trapper said, “Alton, thanks for getting back to me.”

When Gonzo pointed toward the door, Trapper shook his head and waved him over to the sofa. “Retired? When did that happen? Well, congratulations. I’m calling about a former patient of yours; Leah Haverty. Well, no, I didn’t exactly find her. She’s installing a new computer system here at San Francisco Memorial. I know of her already? Alton, I think I’d remember meeting this woman. The news. Leah Lewis. John Lewis, the orthopedic surgeon? Let me think…I seem to remember reading something about an accident. Uh huh. Uh huh. Oh. Yes, I remember now. She was the only one in the car who survived, but only because she got her husband’s heart. Mm hm. I’ll do my best, Alton. Thanks for calling.” Trapper hung up the phone, leaned back in his chair and rubbed his forehead with his fingertips.

“What is it?” asked Gonzo.

“That was Alton Avery at Cedars…well, not anymore. He’s retired. He just referred Leah’s case to me since she’s here in San Francisco. Apparently when she left LA she signed a release and transfer form for whoever Alton thought best, but he had no idea where she was.”

“I couldn’t help but overhear. Who would have guessed she’s a transplant patient?”

“Yep. Alton said she’s missed her last three checkups.”

“Well, you’re not on very good terms with her. How are you gonna get her to let you take a look?”

Smiling, Trapper leaned back up in his chair. “As the lady requested; set up an appointment. You said she volunteers at the children’s hospital. What does she do?”

“She entertains the kids in the long term care ward.”

“The terminal kids?”

“Yeah.”

***

On his day off, Trapper walked through the doors of San Francisco Children’s Hospital at the University of California, nodded to the nurse at the admittance desk as if he knew her and continued down the hall and up the elevator to the office area of the hospital. Leaning around a door frame, he said “Tom. Am I too early?”

Dr. Tom Prescott stood behind his desk and beckoned Trapper to enter, motioning to a chair in front of his desk. “Come on in, Trapper. I can’t wait to hear why you’re here.”

After shaking Tom’s hand, Trapper sat down, smiling. “I’m sorry to get your hopes up, but I’m not looking for a job.”

“Too bad. We could use you. We never seem to have a shortage of kids who need cardiothoracic work.”

“Actually, I’m here to see one of your volunteers. I understand Leah Haverty volunteers here.”

“She does, and the kids love her. But why would you be interested in one of our volunteers?”

“Because she just became a patient of mine, and I’d like to get an idea of her lifestyle.”

“A patient of yours? Heart trouble?”

Trapper crooked his jaw with a slight smile. “Tom, you know I can’t discuss that with you.”

“I do. I just never saw her as someone who would need the kind of services you offer. She looks so healthy.”

“Who said she’s not? Alton Avery retired. He’s turned her over to me.”

Standing, Tom said, “Let’s take a walk. I believe she’s here now.”

When they arrived on the ward, Tom looked through the glass of the door, and pushing it, he said, “Here she is.”

Trapper touched his arm. “Wait. I think I’ll just watch from out here. I don’t want her to know I’m watching. It might make her act differently.” Peering through the door, he asked, “Where is she?”

Tom looked at him rather skeptically. “Don’t you recognize your own patient? She’s sitting right there,” he said, pointing. “The one with the guitar.”

Trapper’s eyes widened as he raised an eyebrow. “So she is. I usually don’t see her in casual clothes with her hair down.”

“I’ve never seen her any other way.” Taking Trapper’s hand and squeezing his arm, he said his goodbyes. “I’ll leave her in your capable hands, Trapper. Let me know if you need anything else.”

Nodding, Trapper turned to watch Leah with the children. She was dressed in blue jeans, tennis shoes and a sweater with her hair falling down around her shoulders, quite a departure from the strict business façade he was used to seeing. And the children seemed quite enamored of her, gathering around her as she sat crossed-legged on the floor, all of them mesmerized by the musical story she told. Trapper laughed at the faces the children were making when she had them sing with her, seemingly in response to faces she was making at them. Unfortunately, Trapper couldn’t see that part. He was looking at her back.

At the end of her hour with them, the children lined up in front of her, and still sitting on the floor, she held each one in her arms like they were her own, whispering, he assumed, words of encouragement because each child nodded or frowned. Frowns didn’t seem to matter because each frown was turned into a smile before the child left her.

When she had gathered her belongings, she walked to the door. Trapper stepped behind a meal cart, but watched as she turned back until the last child had disappeared into his room. When she came through the door, Trapper swore there were tears in her eyes, and when he watched her walk down the hall to the elevator, he noticed she hung her head. After spending what looked like an uplifting hour with the children, she seemed sad…almost heartbroken. It appeared the iceberg had melted today.