Chapter 3 – Second Day of the Convention

On the second day of the convention, Emily said that she and some of the other doctor's wives were going to treat themselves to a spa. The hotel had a shuttle to the nearby spa. Bob told her to have a great time but be back by 5:00 because they were going to dinner at a local doctor's home that evening.

Bob and Dr Bellows met up in their first workshop that morning, "The Battered Patient." Alfred asked Bob why he was attending that particular seminar.

Bob replied, "When you live in an urban area, you never know when you'll get a patient referred because of urban violence. How about you?"

"I have an astronaut who was mauled about three months ago. We couldn't find him for about 3 weeks or so."

Bob looked startled, realizing that this story coincided with a story that Howard had told him. "How did you find him?"

"It was the strangest thing, but with that particular astronaut, that's not too surprising. Someone – a complete stranger – found him in Washington, D.C., and called his family. I'm not even sure how it happened," Dr Bellows said, confused.

"Do you know the name of the man who found your astronaut?" Bob asked.

"No. All I know about him is that he is a navigator for a commercial airliner," Dr Bellows stated, shaking his head.

Bob knew then, that this story and Howard's story were one and the same. How a genie became involved, he still didn't understand. But perhaps, together, he and Alfred Bellows could straighten out two astronauts and one airline navigator. Bob decided to wait until they were in the privacy of Dr Bellows' home, where they could speak more freely of patient identities.

Emily met Bob in the room, just before 5:00 pm. She appeared refreshed and full of chatter about her day. "Oh, I had the most marvelous day, Bob – for $100, I was treated like a queen! Mud baths, steam baths, a massage – I feel about 10 years younger."

"Emily, you're not old enough to feel ten years younger," Bob cracked.

She threw her arms around him. "You are so sweet, Bob." After she'd hugged him, she asked, "Now, how are we getting to this psychiatrist's home?"

Dr Bellows met Bob and Emily in the lobby of the hotel, and drove them to Nassau Bay. He gave them a brief tour of the Johnson Space Center before taking them to the Bellows' home, stating that he had already arranged a private tour for them of some of the buildings for the day after the convention ended. One of his senior astronauts would be the tour guide.

Bob was curious. "Would that be Tony Nelson or Roger Healey, by any chance?"

Dr Bellows looked startled. "It could be. I have about three others that can do them. It will depend on who is on the training schedule for that day and who has free time."

"Wasn't Roger Healey the one who was mauled in Washington, D.C.?" Bob decided to be blunt.

"As a matter of fact, yes. Did it make the papers in Chicago?"

"No, it made the newspapers in Washington, D.C., which my neighbor brings to me once in awhile," Bob explained.

Alfred Bellows brought the Hartley's in to his home, introduced them to his wife, Amanda. "It's nice that I can meet some of the civilian doctors and their wives, for a change. I get so TIRED of everyone wearing uniforms all the time!" Amanda gushed as they ate dinner that evening.

"Believe me, much as I enjoy eating out, having a home-cooked meal in the middle of a vacation is a pleasure," Emily responded. "This roast is outstanding! I would love the recipe!"

"Oh, thank you. Actually, one of our astronaut's wives gave me the recipe. You don't cook it in the oven, you do it in a Crock Pot." Amanda excused herself from the table, went into the kitchen, and came out bearing a 3"x5" index card, which she handed to Emily.

Emily read the card, which said, "Recipe from the kitchen of Tracy Healey." Emily gulped. This really WAS from an astronaut's wife. "May I copy this after dinner, please?"

"Oh, my dear, just keep it. I know the recipe by heart, and if I forget, I can always call Tracy and ask."

After dinner, Emily helped Amanda stack the dishes in the dishwasher while the men settled in the living room. Bob was dying to talk about Howard and his relationship to Roger Healey, and decided to just be blunt.

"You confirmed that the astronaut that was mugged in Washington, D.C. was Roger Healey. How is he doing?" Bob asked.

"Physically, he's healed and back to work. But I won't put him back on the flight rotation list yet."

"In other words, he's still grounded, as my neighbor would say," Bob clarified.

"No, I'll let him fly – all of our astronauts are accomplished pilots. Colonel Healey is one of the best. I just won't put him back on the list where he can be chosen for a mission," Dr Bellows stated.

"Why not?"

"He had amnesia for the longest time and still occasionally has lapses in memory. When Colonel Nelson found him, in Washington, D.C., he didn't remember anyone until somehow, Tracy and Skylar were brought to him. Oh," he thought and added, "that's Colonel Healey's wife and daughter."

"Was he struck on the head?"

"On the head, arms, carved with a knife on his arms and came close to severing an artery, kicked in the gut and other places – according to the doctors at both Walter Reed and the VA Hospital, it was pretty bad. Fortunately, Colonel Healey remembers very little about the mauling. He was hit first on the head and knocked out, then we figure they tried to kill him."

Bob shuddered and shook his head. "And this is one of our finest. What were they after?"

"No one knows that, either. The NASA plans he was carrying made it to Headquarters, intact, so it wasn't that. Maybe they thought he'd have a lot of money on him. His wallet and ID packet all disappeared. But nothing was ever placed on the credit card, at least not to Tracy's knowledge. As soon as Colonel Healey was missing for 48 hours, she cancelled their MasterCharge account, figuring that might bring him home. He may have had about a hundred cash on him. Maybe they were mad that's all he had," Dr Bellows went on.

"I think one of my patients is the one that actually located him, Alfred," Bob stated. "I've heard this entire story before. Is he suffering the typical after effects?"

As the women came into the room bearing plates of cake for dessert, there was a knock at the door. "I'll get that, dear," Alfred Bellows said to his wife, then turning to Bob, "but Bob, I want to hear the rest of the story, because yes, he's definitely suffering. This is too bizarre to let go!"