- Chapter 1 -
Several days had passed since Candy had discovered the newspaper clippings about Terry's disappearance. She had cried inconsolably, because she had realized that the decision to leave Terry had not been the right one for any of the people involved. For her, it was obvious, she had suffered tremendously. But for Terry, it was evident that it had devastated him. And that meant that if Terry wasn't happy, there was no way Suzanne could be happy, even if she tried to talk herself into it, even if she declared to the press that she had faith in him…the fact that he had disappeared had to indicate to Suzanne what was going on with Terry. Or was Suzanne so self centered and so great was her desire to keep someone next to her who didn't correspond her blinding her to what was so obvious?
"Maybe we made the wrong decision…oh God, what a terrible mistake…" lamented Candy.
"What? What happened?" asked Dr. Martin. He had been the only one who offered her a job after Neil's shenanigans resulted in her being unable to find a job in any of the Chicago area hospitals and clinics…she had been blacklisted, it seemed. Dr. Martin was examining a patient and Candy was helping him and taking notes for the file.
"It was nothing Dr. Martin…shall we continue?"
"Hmph!" Dr. Martin said, underneath his breath. Albert had more or less told him what had happened with Candy, because Albert had been very shocked to see how she had reacted when she had seen the clippings. She had been depressed for days; her crying jags were deep and long. Not even when Anthony died had he seen her in such a state…so unhappy….so demoralized.
"Time will take care of everything, it is the best cure in these cases…you just go ahead and keep supporting her as her friend." Dr. Martin had advised to his amnesic patient.
"As a friend…" Albert told himself, "…the problem is that I am not just her friend…I am her 'adoptive father', her tutor….and as such it pains me to see her that way…" Albert had just recently regained his memory, thanks to Candy's care and interest. Only George knew of this, George his eternal confident and consigliere. How Albert blessed the young woman's name! If it weren't for her, who knows where or how he would have ended up. As the head of the Andley family, he knew he had power and perhaps that power could help his little one…but how? As he himself had told Candy when she had told him how she and Terry broke up, he himself would have taken the same decision, as painful as it would have been for him. Yes, perhaps at this time his friendship and shoulder to cry on was the most valuable help he could give her. But in the meantime, he had asked George to research the situation further. "If Terry has disappeared, there's no doubt that he is suffering more than she is and there is no sense in making him fulfill a duty that he only feels obliged to do." Albert thought.
"Duty…some using that word to turn the tide in their favor…" Dr. Martin said beneath his breath, recalling the chat he had with Albert about what was troubling Candy. He was listening to his young patient's heart. The youth, who worked in a nearby meat packing plant, had come to see him about a sharp pain in his waist.
This time it was Candy who was surprised. "Excuse me, Dr. Martin?" she inquired.
"Ahhhemmm! Let's see…I am going to tap you in your lower back, is that alright?" Dr. Martin continued, asking his patient.
"Yes Doctor, whatever you say…."
Dr. Martin tapped firmly in the area where the kidneys are located. "Does it hurt?" he asked.
"Yes…ouch!" he cried.
Dr. Martin called his assistant over. "Come here, Candy…you see, I am tapping him directly over the kidneys….now, you try over on the other side…you let us know if it hurts, young man."
"Yes, Doctor." the youth replied.
Candy nodded and imitated Dr. Martin's movements.
"Ouch!...that hurts even more!" moaned the patient.
"Listen to me, young man…I am going to have to perform a blood panel on you to confirm my suspicion, but I am pretty sure that you have something in your kidneys…Candy, please go and take a blood sample from him so that I can analyze it…in the meantime, I want you to go home, rest and to drink a lot of clean water."
"But…but I can't do that…I have to go to work…it is my duty…I will get fired if I don't show up…I barely even made it here before my shift, I have no time to waste…" the youth protested, slightly desperate.
"To hell with duty, kid! You want me to tell you the whole story? If you do not take care of yourself right now, you are going to end up six feet under! Or is that what you want? Duty, my foot….everybody making asses of themselves because of Duty." Dr. Martin was furious.
Candy was stunned to hear Dr. Martin and in a soft voice asked the young man to follow her to the other side of the home clinic to take the blood out. "I understand your position and know how you feel…but you must understand, if you do not do what Dr. Martin suggests, you can fall gravely ill.." she said, while she prepped and then took the blood out of the patient's arm. Dr. Martin, who was upset over the exchange, had left the home clinic to clear his mind.
"I understand, Miss…but everyone in my house depends on me…I need the job I have…"
Candy felt torn. On one hand, she understood the youth's situation very well…hadn't she gone through a similar dilemma recently when she lost her job at St. Joan's? On the other hand, if the young man ended up not being able to help the household as a result of illness or death, what would happen then? There is where she saw Dr. Martin's point. One way or another, one could forge ahead…only death was final.
"Very well, young man, I am done. Go ahead and hold up your arm folded like that for a few minutes so that you don't bleed….press down a bit on the cotton ball" she indicated. "Please, reconsider Dr. Martin's recommendation…it would be harder on your loved ones if you become very sick…when Dr. Martin finishes with the analysis we will let you know what the findings are, alright?" she said, pleasantly.
"Yes, Miss…thank you…" he said, gratefully, although his voice was somewhat sad. He did not know what he was going to do and he was worried about the initial diagnosis that Dr. Martin had given him.
Candy watched him leave; then she cleaned all the examination areas. She put everything back in its place. Even though the clinic was quite modest, she took great pride in keeping everything very clean and organized. Dr. Martin wasn't as neat as she liked, but he was grateful for her for all her extra effort to make the place more warm and inviting. He had noticed that since she was there he was getting more patients, especially mothers with young children. There was no doubt there was now a woman's touch that honored the locale's name, The Happy Clinic.
Finished with her post-exam duties, Candy started to prepare the blood sample for Dr. Martin. She was about to let him know it was ready when she heard him yell, "Candy! Come quick! Come quick with the litter! And bring some bandages! Quick! &$ it sure is raining cats and dogs on me today…Christ, I need a drink!"
Candy snapped into action, took the litter from its position behind the door and ran as quickly as she could from the home clinic to where Dr. Martin was standing. "What's happened that Dr. Martin used that language?" she asked, puzzled.
The early afternoon Chicago sunlight temporarily blinded her. When it passed, she saw Dr. Martin huddled over a body, trying to stop a hemorrhage.
"Oh, Dr. Martin…my goodness…" she cried as she reached the surgeon and helping him stop the bleeding. She knew she was better with bandaging patients, he had said so himself when they dressed Albert's wounds after the lion attack.
"I'm telling you Miss Candy, we are living in barbaric times here in Chicago…I was trying to clear my mind from that sob episode back there with our kidney kid when I saw a car throw this poor bastard out…just look at him! As if an entire gang dropped a ton of bricks on him…Quickly…yes, that way….bind him tight…we are going to have to operate the knife wound immediately…" Dr. Martin's soliloquy was turning more agitated as he kept speaking.
Candy, who was focused on her job, had not even noticed the face of the young man who was laying in front of her, unconscious. "He's all bandaged up…I think we can move him now…" she said, with steely tranquility.
"Very well…we can now move him like God intended…who knows what got disturbed after being thrown from a moving automobile…can you believe that, from a moving automobile? Very well, support him there, I will move him…" he indicated where he wanted her to hold the patient, from underneath his armpits.
Candy did as indicated and Dr. Martin started to move the body from the lower end onto the litter. Candy looked down into the patient's face to say something comforting, even if he couldn't hear her. It was then when she felt that the whole inside of her came crashing down with a sickening thud and the sky collapsed on top of her.
"NO! THIS CANNOT BE!"
"Candy…what's the matter?" asked Dr. Martin, surprised at her reaction. He finished moving the patient. "Hurry, we have to operate him immediately or this poor bastard is going to die on us!"
Candy was crying silently. Oh, dear Lord, this cannot be…this cannot be! Scared, confused, brokenhearted, she picked up the other side of the litter. Between her and Dr. Martin they took the patient inside.
"Prepare for surgery, immediately!" he ordered. Something had disturbed her, of that he was sure. He had to keep her focused on the task at hand…although he started to notice how she was moving, as if in a trance, doing everything that was necessary to operate.
"I'll prepare the patient…" he told her. He washed his hands quickly in the tub of sterilized water that they had. He looked over the young man again, and started to strip his clothes off, using scissors when necessary. It was obvious this person had not changed his clothes in a very long time…he had the characteristic reek of a hardened transient. He showed some signs of rapid weight loss. The smell of cheap alcohol was coming through his pores. He was curious about a type of pouch around the young man's torso. It was somewhat torn in the place where the knife had gone in; consequently it was soaked in blood. Dr. Martin noted that perhaps this had protected him during the attack and it served as a type of bandage afterwards. He took this item off and left it aside. The patient was severely beaten up, dirty. His hair was tied back in a sad pony tail and showed signs of not having been shampooed in some time, it was terribly greasy and matted. He had a beard of a couple of month's growth. The patient was very handsome of face and build. He had several blows to his face…he noted that some of them were more recent than others and evidenced by the state of discoloration and swelling. What worried him the most, however, was the open wound on the left side of torso.
Candy left a tub with warm water so that Dr. Martin could wash the area that was to be operated on, while she continued to prepare all the instruments, bandages, swabs, and disposal containers they were going to use. She prepared the simple bed that would be the 'operating theatre'. During the entire time, tears streamed down her face. She felt that the fates finally were about to destroy what little optimism she had left in life, that time had stopped and that God was about to forsake her.
"I am ready to transfer the patient" she said, in a monotonous voice, forcing herself to talk that way so that she would not lose her last shreds of sanity.
"Ready…one, two, three!...you're small but strong Candy, did you know that?" Dr. Martin praised as they transferred the patient to the bed. Candy just nodded and they covered the young man's body up with clean sheets, leaving only the area to operate exposed.
"Very well, let him inhale the chloroform…" he indicated. Candy took the cotton ball that she soaked with the liquid and she put it underneath Terry's nose. For the patient was none other than Terrence G. Grandchester. "It's for your good, Terry…" she said quietly. The patient twitched and reacted a bit…she didn't know if it was because of her voice or his body's reaction to the chloroform, a normal reaction with any patient succumbing to the anesthetic's effects.
"Candy…do you know this patient?" asked Dr. Martin, astounded. He thought it was strange the way she had reacted when she had seen the patient's face outside. She generally was so calm and collected with the patients, radiating trust and warmth.
She did not answer…a few minutes passed. She made a small test to make sure the subject was out. "I think he's down…" she indicated quietly.
Dr. Martin met his nurse's eyes and he understood immediately. He did not ask any further questions. "Let's start, then…swab, tongs…."
The operation lasted a little over an hour, the longest sixty minutes of Candy's life. Finally, Dr. Martin stitched up the wound.
"Very well, Candy…you can finish cleaning him up. I don't know if we made it in time, the next 48 hours are going to be crucial…he is going to need round the clock care. I am pretty sure his body is going to break out in a high fever at any minute…he runs the risk of dehydrating himself, as well as the risk of contracting tetanus in the next two weeks. I think he lost a lot of blood…I am going to analyze a sample so that I can determine what his type is, because I am going to have to give him a transfusion…Candy, are you listening?"
"Yes, Doctor…" Candy mused. Her sight was blank, hovering over the patient. She was praying silently….she had barely heard what he had told her.
"Don't forget, I am the best Doctor in Chicago…I am not going to let him go that way…" he said, trying to cheer her up. "Now go and take care of him…after the analysis I am going to go get Albert, is that alright?"
"Yes, Dr. Martin…thank you…" she murmured.
As if in a dream, Candy started to clean Terry. Everything seemed to go by slowly. Under other circumstances she would have been terribly embarrassed to see Terry bare and exposed in such a manner, but now she had to help him and there was no place for awkwardness.
"Terry! My magnificent Romeo, my commanding King of France, my charismatic actor, my charming chevalier, my impertinent and stuck up aristocrat, my dear and sweet Terry…the man I love..." she said to herself quietly, saddened to see how he lain there so defenseless, so vanquished. When she finished, and just as she had learned in nursing school, she changed the sheets that had been soiled during the operation without disturbing the patient. This task completed, she tenderly undid his ponytail and gave him a dry bath on his scalp and hair so that he would not be so dirty. With the same attention she cleaned his face, his beard, his teeth, his hands and his feet. She was taken aback with the strong smell of alcohol that his body emanated. Candy felt her eyes tear up again. She remembered that night in St. Paul's, when Terry arrived at her room by accident after that brawl in the pub…but he did not smell the way he did now. It was as if Terry was pickling himself in alcohol.
"Oh Terry…what have we done…what have I done to you?" she thought, miserable. She caressed his brow sadly, her heart wincing at seeing how bruised and battered he was. Even in his sorry state, Terry was still her Terry.
"Thank God, he's type AB." Candy heard Dr. Martin say. "We can give him a universal transfusion…good thing that Dr. Roger Lee in Massachusetts just found this out a few months ago, and that I keep up with my medical journals."
"Dr. Martin…my blood type is A…please, I want to give it to him…" she offered without hesitation.
"Candy, it is quite possible that I have to use more than yours…I can't leave you too weak…you won't be able to take care of him…let me go find Albert, he can help…I will be right back…stay here…" he ordered.
Candy nodded and Dr. Martin put on his overcoat and his homburg and left. Evening was starting to fall. "Albert will be home soon, preparing dinner for us." she thought, "I forgot to ask Dr. Martin to have Albert bring a change of clothes for Terry."
She started to go through Terry's effects. She saw the book of Robert Frost poems, which was heavily worn…it was obvious that the owner had read it frequently. She was surprised to see that Terry did not have a pack or sack with a clothes or the like. Was Terry wandering around, just waiting for the earth to swallow him? She didn't know whether or not to throw the old clothes out…they were totally destroyed and filthy.
Candy decided to keep them, it was better if Terry decided what he wanted to do with them. She was drawn to the pouch with a zipper that was stained with blood, torn from the knifing and from Dr. Martin's removal. She opened it and she started to weep immediately, feeling how her whole soul cried out. There was only a bit of money, the letters that she recognized were the ones she had sent him during their correspondence; and the harmonica that she had given him in College, in exchange for giving up smoking.
She wept sadly for a while; then she became ashamed of herself. "Am I going to weep and not tend to him? NO!" she declared. "I can cry all I want later, a lot later…" she commanded herself. She took his temperature and confirmed her suspicions…he was starting to burn with a high fever. She sat him up slightly, enough so that he could drink water and gave him an oral analgesic. She laid him down again and started with cold compresses, changing them as soon as they felt warm. She was so intent on her work that she did not hear Albert's voice behind her, calling her name.
"Candy…Good Heavens!" Albert said, taken aback at who the patient was. Dr. Martin had only said "Come! Come quick! We've got a patient whom I think is the one that makes our favorite nurse suffer…and he's in a bad way!" Albert had thought that Dr. Martin was wrong or had no idea what he was talking about…besides, Dr. Martin didn't know Terry or what he looked like…but Albert knew, and his eyes did not lie. By some strange coincidence, there was Terrence G. Grandchester, right before his eyes!
"Oh Albert! I thought I had suffered enough already, but nothing prepared me for this!" she lamented, falling into the arms that had always been there for her in the times of her greatest need.
"Candy…you have to be strong for you, and for him..." Albert said, still stunned with the most recent turn of events in her life. "Calm down, little one…you'll see how Terry pulls through this…" Albert warmly embraced her. "Now, go take care of him, and I will do everything I can to help you."
"Since you are here, Albert, I need to give the patient a transfusion…please sit over here…Candy…how is the patient…Terry's the name?" Dr. Martin showed Albert where he wanted him to sit. Albert felt a little strange, not being the patient this time. His head was spinning around. "I have barely regained my memory and now this has happened…what to do? This can't be mere chance…it has to be something more…the same way it was with me…"
"Yes, Dr. Martin, his name is Terrence Grandchester…but…we call him Terry…" she said, her voice devoted, while she changed compresses, "He already has a fever…I've given him the analgesic and now I am applying the cold compresses."
"Very good Candy, continue with that…now Albert, I am going to set up the transfusion, is that okay? First him, then you."
Albert nodded and left near Candy a bag with clean clothes that he had brought. He had the feeling that the patient was going to need a change of clothes. Candy saw that and breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh Albert, you are the best…Terry needs it…" she said gratefully. Albert smiled at her warmly in support and sat where Dr. Martin had indicated. Dr. Martin expertly set everything up and the transfusion got underway in no time.
Silence dominated the home clinic, the occupants lost in their own thoughts. Candy was terribly worried and prayerful, tending her patient; Albert wondering about what would come next; Dr. Martin was analyzing the young meatpacker's blood. This also included Terry, who was still unconscious. His sedated mind was wandering between the May Festival and the stolen kiss on Pretend Pony's Hill, the summer in Scotland, Candy's cries when they were separated in St. Paul's, Candy's cry in the crowd after his King Lear performance, Candy running behind the departing train and the sad goodbye in New York. At that moment, he saw himself crying while he held onto her by the waist. What he did not know was that he really started crying and the monologue he had in his head at the time was now being said out loud for all to hear: "Candy, my love, please don't go…please don't go….I want to marry you, not Suzanne…I love you! I need you in my life, I don't want to be without you any more…I've wanted you with me since I left St. Paul's…Candy…I need you now more than ever!" It was a whimper, sad and heart wrenching.
Candy had stopped cold when she started hearing him, and even if she didn't say anything, sad liquid salt rolled down her cheeks again. Albert was stunned to hear Terry's admission. Dr. Martin discreetly pretended he was more interested in the blood work he was doing, but inside he was deeply moved.
Candy regained her composure, leaned over into Terry's ear and whispered, "Terry! Your Lady Freckles, butterfingers nurse is here, and is going to take care of you…just like you wanted to, remember? And I want you to know…I love you too. Now I need you to get better so that you can pester me with a new nickname, alright?" She tenderly wiped his tears with her fingertips, gave him a light kiss on his forehead and changed his compress. With this act, the patient immediately calmed down again.
"This cannot continue this way…" Albert thought as he saw them, growing more determined at every minute. "It is obvious Terry was going through a living hell since they separated…a hell so awful that he completely abandoned himself….there is no honor debt here, Terry has to break that up. There are other ways to help that young lady out, but Terry's soul isn't a prize…it is obvious whom he loves. That being said, I need to talk to George tomorrow…we are going to make an anonymous donation to Dr. Martin…God knows how he pulled this operation off with the sparse equipment he has!"
Terry heard birds singing, something that he had not enjoyed in a very long time. He felt pains all over his body, especially on his left side, where it was more acute. It was the first time he did not feel drunk, even though his head spun a bit. Where am I? he wondered. Suddenly he heard her voice, the only voice that moved him. Am I dreaming? Did I die and reach Heaven? The last thing I remember, barely remember, was a fight and a sharp plunge…after that…nothing….just her voice…Candy…CANDY!
"Terry? Please, don't move…"
Terry slowly opened his eyes. He had to be in Heaven or in one of his dreams, because he knew his eyes were deceiving him. There, observing him, were a pair of emeralds, whose owner gave them a special glow and life of their own. His deep blue eyes regarded her, slowly, without saying anything. He thought if he said something, the vision in front of him would vanish.
"Terry…how do you feel? It has been 3 days since you arrived here…" she asked, anxiously.
"Candy? Is it really you…or is it my cruel mind, playing tricks with me?"
Candy sat down next to him, took his right hand and placed it on her cheek. "It is really me, Terry…check for yourself…" she offered.
He feebly started to trace her facial features, stopping at the tip of her nose. "Are you going to defend you nose, too?" he asked softly, recalling the interchange they had during their first meeting on the Mauretania.
"Of course! You know I'm proud of it…" she responded, melancholy.
"And I am proud of you…which is more than you can say of me…" he said, affected and sad.
"Terry…please, don't say that. Thank God you are over the worst…we thought you weren't going to make it…whoever gave you the knifing didn't manage to do a very good job or what you were wearing stopped the blade from doing worse damage…because if it would have reached one of your vital organs, you would have been done for…you have lost a lot of blood…did you know you are Albert's blood brother now? I gave you some, but who wants to be your blood sister…" she explained, trying to sound light hearted to alleviate his somber mood.
Terry gratefully looked at her, lovingly gazing at her with his eyes. She could not sustain it. "I didn't know that the blood of a simius tarzana freckles mixed well with that of a homo sapiens romeo rex frankus" he said, feeling droll for the first time in months. Without knowing, he started laughing and this brought on a sharp pain, which Candy noticed immediately.
"But I'm such a dolt…you can't laugh Terry…please…let's leave the joking around for now and forgive me, will you? We're even afraid to move you, although we are trying to see if we move you to a sanatorium or…"
"Or what?" he asked, curious.
"Or to the apartment I share with Albert…but Dr. Martin wants to make sure that your wound is healed up enough in order to move you…he's afraid it can be bothered if we do it too soon…"
"So I guess I am in Chicago?"
"Yes…don't you remember?" she asked, surprised.
Terry looked away from her, awfully humiliated that Candy knew or was about to find out what had happened to him since she saw him last. "No."
"Terry…why don't you look at me?" she implored.
"Because I have failed, Candy…I have not fulfilled any of the promises I made to you since I left St. Paul's...I'm a total failure…" Candy saw that he was about to burst out crying, and she reacted. "Terry, please…don't think about that now…we can talk about it later…when you are better…I…I promise you that I will take care of you…I haven't left your side since you got here…deal?" she said, taking his hand and shaking it. She was worried, since she knew that he did not shed tears easily. In fact, she had only seen him do it twice, once when they met, and once when they had said goodbye. She realized that if he was about to do it again, in front of her, his mental state was fragile.
Terry felt better when she had taken his hand and was able to hold back the tears. Only she could make him happy and move him in such a way. "Alright, my Lady Freckles…" he agreed. The my made her feel special. They stayed holding hands for a while, as if their selves had an unquenchable thirst for the other's contact.
