Chapter Three: Doctor Doctor
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In spite of Vash's continued attempts to downplay his nausea, two hours later (and six trips to the bathroom between him and Meryl) convinced them all that something more than a regular hangover was at fault. At Milly's insistence they left the inn and were soon walking – or staggering, if you didn't count the tall girl – down the main street on their way to see a doctor. Not that Vash was apt to complain by that point.
They hadn't gone very far when they came upon a large crowd of people gathered in the street. Many of these people looked ill; several were even sitting on the ground. The trio noticed that the crowd continued up the street quite a way.
"I wonder why all these people are standing here?" mussed Milly.
Meryl was astounded. "I thought the festival was over! After last night, I'd have expected everyone to be sleeping in today. Do you think there's something more going on?"
Vash approached a family standing at the back of the crowd. Tapping the gentleman on the shoulder, he put on the most courteous smile that he could manage and hoped the man wouldn't find his grimace demented. "Excuse me, good sir, but could you tell me why are you standing here?"
The man – a short, humorless fellow with a pronounced mustachio and dark bags under his eyes – turned to briefly consider the gunman. "For my health," he deadpanned.
"Ah…" Vash laughed weakly, deciding that it would be best to just cut to the chase. "Then could you be so kind as to tell me which way is it to the nearest doctor?"
"Straight up this street, at the edge of town. You can't miss it."
"Thank you." Vash smiled gratefully, as he, Meryl and Milly started to walk on past the crowd.
Suddenly the man's wife, a short, heavyset woman with sharp eyes and deep scowl lines, leaned out to holler at them. "HEY! You three there! No cutting!"
They stopped, turning back to look at the woman in puzzlement. "Cutting?" asked Vash.
The lady gestured at the line of people. "Can't you see there's a queue here?"
"Eh?" Vash glanced briefly at the crowd. He then smiled apologetically. "Oh, I see what you're thinking. We're not trying to cut, ma'am; we're just going to pass on by and go see the doctor."
A little boy, the couple's son, now piped up. "But mister, this IS the line to see the doctor!"
"WHAT?" the trio blurted out. They turned to peer up the street again, where they saw the line stretch into the distance.
"What in the world?" Meryl's jaw fell open as she contemplated the size of the crowd.
"It looks like the whole town is here!" Milly cried.
Vash was dismayed. "We have to wait this long? But it'll take hours…."
The woman crossed her arms defiantly. "I've been waiting here myself since dawn."
"Aren't there any more doctors in this town?" Vash looked pleadingly at the couple.
The husband appeared momentarily thoughtful, then shrugged. "Well, if you're really desperate, there's always -"
"Don't talk nonsense, Harold," the angry woman snapped. "Stranger, there is only ONE doctor in Bowe's Flats, and whether you're desperate or not," she looked at Vash pointedly, "You'll have to wait in line with the rest of us."
"Um… okay."
So they settled down to wait.
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It was now midday. Long having given up on standing, Milly and Meryl were sitting back to back on the dusty plank walkway, with Vash sprawled out on the ground next to them. Milly had nodded off into a dull torpor, and Vash appeared to have died, but Meryl sat with knees crossed, one fist curled under her chin, quietly fuming. She could swear there had been no detectable movement for the past hour.
Finally she could stand it no more. "I can't believe this. How do people put up with it? We've been sitting here for hours! HOURS! Is this doctor so good that there's only one in a town this size?"
She looked at the people around her and made eye contact with the irate wife from before, who stared back impassively. But Meryl was too annoyed to be intimidated.
"For Heaven's sakes, isn't there anyone else with any medical experience at all? Not even a nurse? Or a midwife? Or even a horse doc-"
This seemed to provoke the woman. "There is only ONE -"
"I know, I KNOW!" Meryl looked away disgustedly, and groaned in exasperation. She continued griping in a lowered voice, now more to herself than anyone present. "Good grief, even a boy scout would be something. Talk about irresponsible! All this time wasted waiting just to SEE the doctor, much less get a cure! And what if there was another emergency in the meantime? What would we do if someone comes in with a gunshot wound? Or if somebody has a heart attack? Or if someone is about to give birth? Or maybe someone..."
As Meryl continued to inventory the possible medical catastrophes that could momentarily befall Bowe's Flats, Vash's eyes snapped open. He sat up with a suddenness that drew Milly's attention.
"Need to make a break for the bathroom again?" she asked him tiredly.
"Something like that…" the gunman murmured softly. He slid his sunglasses on with a calm deliberateness, and slowly got to his feet. After brushing himself off, he walked over to stand in front of Meryl, who was obliviously checking off disasters with her free hand.
Feeling herself in an unexpected shadow, Meryl looked up to see Vash towering over her. Lifting her chin up from her palm, she looked questioningly at the gunman. He had a serious, almost severe expression on his face. Reaching down, he suddenly seized her by the wrist.
Taken aback, Meryl felt her cheeks begin to redden slightly. "Eh? Vash?"
Without ceremony, Vash effortlessly pulled her to her feet, to stand before him while he grasped her firmly by the shoulders. He stared into her eyes intently, and Meryl felt her heart begin to beat wildly, conscious of the attention they were drawing from the crowd around them. She wondered briefly if he was annoyed from all her complaining. She opened her mouth, ready to apologize. Then –
"HONEY!!! I've stood here quietly for the past few hours, watching you suffer out of the goodness of your heart, waiting patiently in the heat and dust along with everyone else for your turn! But now I say enough is enough!" He drew a deep breath, then leaned in dramatically: "These are NO conditions for a PREGNANT WOMAN to have to endure for SO LONG!"
"WHAT???" several people sitting nearby blurted out, the scowling woman foremost among them.
Gyuhhh??? Meryl stood blinking up at Vash, floored so far beyond comprehension as to be rendered insensible. If it weren't for his grip, she was sure she would have hit the ground. As it was, she felt as if she were having an out-of-body experience: voices were jabbering incomprehensibly about her, bodies were in motion, disembodied faces fixating on hers (Vash's particularly so) – things were spiraling out of control. She was vaguely aware on some level that she should be saying something to correct this absurd situation, but just couldn't…
Was perversely unable to, while caught up in that intense green-eyed gaze…
"Meryl!" gasped Milly, who was now standing at her side, staring at her friend in open shock. "I had no idea!"
The sharp-eyed wife leaned around Vash to peer skeptically at Meryl, who was still too dumbfounded to speak. "Pregnant? A little chit of a gal like yourself?" She proceeded to give Meryl a once over as if she was appraising a side of beef, and snorted derisively. "Impossible. She has no hips."
This did wonders for snapping Meryl out of her shock. She turned from Vash to stare incredulously at the woman.
"Oh, come now. You know it's not impossible, Mildred," said another lady sitting nearby. "Girls as small as her give birth all the time." The woman, an elegant matron with a long nose, turned to smile warmly at Meryl, who immediately felt a deep sense of gratitude for the lady's timely intervention. "Why, my daughter Rose gave birth just last Harvest festival, and she was always a petite girl. Of course, she had a much more delicate frame than yours, dearie."
Meryl took back every gracious thought she'd had.
"Huh. Well, I was just a slip of a girl myself before I had Jimmy," Mildred conceded, as privately Meryl shuddered. Then she felt a nerve in her head begin to throb when the woman leaned in again to inspect her stomach. "Hmm. Now that you mention it, Blanche, she does look a little thick about the middle…."
"HEY!"
But Meryl didn't get the chance to elaborate as Milly quickly moved into the way. The tall girl caught up the smaller girl's hands, pressing them tightly between her own, and looked imploringly into her partner's eyes. "Meryl, I can't believe this! Why didn't you tell me?"
Meryl was aghast. She was ready to start screaming. At those snoopy women with their rude insinuations, at Vash – especially at Vash – for starting this mess, and now even at Milly, for actually believing such a thing. But one look at the plaintive expression in her friend's shimmering eyes gave Meryl pause for alarm. She tried to make its meaning out: an odd amalgamation of surprise, of concern, of… of…
What is it? Despair? Anger? … Jealousy?
Meryl opened her mouth uselessly, suddenly at a loss for what to say as she felt an inexplicable surge of guilt wash over her. She barely registered Vash hurriedly hugging her around the shoulders, pulling her in close. "Well, Milly, we weren't too sure ourselves until just recently. We've been trying to keep it a secret…."
He began to laugh in an overly high, nervous way while Meryl hung her head, sweating. Milly fell silent, glancing between them.
Mildred looked rather put out. "Oh, for Heaven's sakes, boy, why didn't you say something before? A pregnant woman's health is no laughing matter!"
Vash stopped laughing, and glanced penitently around at the crowd. "Then would you all mind terribly if I escorted my… ah… wife up to the doctor's office now?"
Mildred snorted derisively. "Hmph. Get on with you. I'm not insensitive, you know." She shuffled off into the middle of the street, not noticing Meryl narrowing her eyes as Vash ran a hand through his hair sheepishly. Raising her hands to her mouth, the stocky woman soon had everyone's attention. "ALL RIGHT, EVERYBODY, LISTEN UP!!! MAKE WAY – PREGNANT LADY COMING THROUGH!!!"
The sea of faces turned around, parting neatly down the middle, and what seemed a thousand pairs of eyes zeroed in on the expectant couple. It was almost too much; Meryl felt her touchy stomach begin to churn threateningly again. As she stood there immobilized, she felt Vash link his arm through hers. Looking up, she felt him lightly squeeze her hand, a half-embarrassed grin upon his face.
"Well, honey, shall we?"
"Vash, I… I… uuuurk!"
Little Jimmy leaned around his mother's side. "Ooo… I didn't think she had that much room in her!"
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The lone doctor's office of Bowe's Flats was a small, unpretentious building that Meryl strongly suspected doubled for living quarters at night. A plain wooden plaque labeled "T. S. Wilde, MD" hung from the door outside. Inside, the waiting room (which was really no more than a narrow hallway with a bench and a coat rack) was so small that Milly, insisting she was fine, had opted to wait for them outside. So Vash and Meryl were left alone to share the bench in tense silence, Meryl with her head in her hands, Vash fidgeting nervously next to her.
"Aw, c'mon Meryl; it was the fastest way we could get in," Vash finally whispered.
"But why did it have to be that way?" she hissed back.
Just then the door opened. A neat, youthful-looking man with spectacles and a white vest stepped into the room. He looked tired and disheveled, yet he seemed pleasant enough as he silently beckoned the pair within. Meryl guessed him to be in his early thirties.
As they passed into a larger room, Meryl was struck by how unconventional this office was from others of her experience. Pausing just within the doorway, she gaped a few moments as she took in its decor. An oversize desk loaded down with papers commanded the middle of the room, while a threadbare couch stood against the wall opposite. Shelves of books with portraits and plaques hanging in the spaces between lined the walls. Assorted bric-a-brac was scattered throughout. It's more like a private study than an examination room, she mussed as she eyed old lace curtains filtering diffuse light into the room. Then hearing a soft cough, Meryl hurriedly seated herself on the couch.
"Good day. I am Dr. Thomas Wilde." The man smiled pleasantly from his chair behind the desk as he looked first from Meryl to Vash, who had taken up position leaning back against the closed door. "You appear to be visitors to Bowe's Flats. I don't believe I recognize you. Or else I've been cooped up in this office for too long."
His gaze settled expectantly on Meryl again, who was distractedly examining a forming hole in the couch's fabric. Realizing she was being addressed, she hastily spoke up. "Nice to meet you, Dr. Wilde. My name is Meryl Stryfe – uh..." Oops, Meryl thought, Too late. She had used her own name without thinking. Casting Vash a panicked look, she wondered if she had just ruined their cover story. But the gunman only casually glanced at her before addressing the doctor.
"And my name is Vash, Dr. Wilde." He smiled happily, adding with more heartfelt candor than he realized, "It's really great to meet you!"
"Vash? Unusual name...," Dr. Wilde suddenly frowned. "Isn't that the same as that of the infamous outlaw Vash the Stampede?"
"Yeah, I get that all the time!" Vash laughed nervously as Meryl felt her stomach begin to knot. "I have no idea why!"
"Hmm. Well, in any case…," He had turned to look at Meryl before twisting back towards Vash again, and finally sighed, rubbing his neck. "I think I'm getting a muscle cramp. Wouldn't you like to take a seat with your wife, Mr. Stryfe?"
Surprised, Vash nearly fell over when his foot lost its hold on the wall. "Er, yeah…" Scratching his head, the gunman slunk sheepishly over to take a seat next to a pink-faced Meryl, who attempted to slide over as nonchalantly as possible without falling off the couch.
"Well, that's better. Now, as I was saying –."
Meryl, however, couldn't restrain herself anymore. "Just a moment! Excuse me for asking, Dr. Wilde, but…," Her eyes focused on the mountain of papers. "Are you really all alone? Don't you even have a nurse?"
Dr. Wilde appeared momentarily taken aback, but then slowly nodded soberly. "As a matter of fact, I did, at one time. She was more of a partner than a nurse, actually. But she died." He templed his fingers as he leaned forward on the desk, smiling ruefully. "I haven't been able to find a suitable one since."
"Oh! I'm… sorry," murmured Meryl, feeling suddenly foolish. "I didn't mean to pry."
"It's all right. It's perfectly understandable that you should ask. And it was some time ago."
"But then…," Meryl looked at him with mixed concern and confusion. "It's just that with all this work; all these people who need your help – aren't you feeling overwhelmed?"
Dr. Wilde chuckled. "I'm afraid you've been given a false impression! It's not always like this in Bowe's Flats – far from it! I'm proud to say that we are actually a very healthy community in normal conditions. I've made sure of that."
Wearing a satisfied smile, Dr. Wilde continued on in a self-assured manner as he got up to pace about the room. "In times past, Bowe's Flats had its share of ailments and outbreaks, much of it due to our own backward thinking and outdated remedies. We're a little isolated from the larger cities; we had to make do with our limited resources for a long time." His face took on a dark expression, "Because of this, many of our citizens have needlessly fallen victim to injury and plague over the years. But now with modern medicine and improved public health care we've overcome that." He stopped pacing, staring off at nothing. "With regular care, people can expect to live out their normal lifespans – not have them cut short because of inadequate medical attention and dangerous, obsolete practices."
Dr. Wilde turned to face them, and Meryl noticed that his face appeared relaxed again. "Also, a lot of the people I'm treating today are visitors like you, not just residents, come in for the festival. I'm usually kept quite busy, but it's not more than I can handle."
It's still an unusual arrangement, though, Meryl thought. "But even so…," she hedged, unable to repress a nagging curiosity, "Why haven't there been more doctors attracted to Bowe's Flats besides you?"
"Well, I guess that might be a bit my fault. I suppose it may be because other doctors have found it hard establishing practices here. I have a very loyal client base."
"Wow," said Vash, finally piping up. "I'm impressed. You must be some doctor!"
"Just popular, I guess." He shrugged nonchalantly. "But enough about that. Aren't you here because of your condition?"
Vash immediately perked up. "Yes, yes, of course we are! Dr. Wilde, we've been feeling sick since we woke up this morning and –."
"Ah yes, let me guess: splitting headache, bouts of nausea, interspersed with vomiting and diar- ."
"Er, yeah," Vash hurriedly interrupted him. "So you heard about it?"
"It's been going around," Dr. Wilde commented wryly. "Not uncommon after a day of festivities. Especially for those who have indulged perhaps a bit more than their systems could take."
"Um, r-right. So… got anything for it?"
"Yes, of course, but before we get to that – what about your other condition?"
They looked back at him in confusion. "What other condition?"
Dr. Wilde frowned in puzzlement. "I heard a bit of a commotion outside just before you two came in. Something about being pregnant?"
Meryl noticed out the corner of her eye that Vash had immediately turned aside to casually examine one of the assorted medical instruments lying on a nearby shelf. She felt a nerve begin to throb in her head. Again.
Vash, you big, dumb, gutless… IDIOT!!!
"Oh! That! Aha ha, well, it's just that my…" – Meryl gritted her teeth – "husband made a mistake and got a little carried away. It's… it's just…." She felt her throat suddenly go dry, as her voice dropped to almost a whisper. "It's really too soon to tell."
Meryl heard Vash fumbling with something, then felt a strange object land against her feet. The gunman made an odd strangling sound. She looked down.
It was a pair of forceps.
She felt the fabric tearing slightly beneath her fingernails.
"I wouldn't be so sure about that. You'd be surprised at how quickly a pregnancy can progress." He gave them both a reassuring smile. "Tell me, when was the last time you…?"
"UH! Well, I… we…." Meryl flinched, feeling the blood in her face racing up the thermostat, as next to her Vash appeared to have gone rigid. She could hardly believe she was having this conversation. How could she say, "Well, Dr. Wilde, to be perfectly honest, up until yesterday I would have said it was utterly impossible, but today I'm not even sure if anything happened?" She stared down at the floor, wishing for a hole to magically open and swallow her up. And take the big mute lump sitting next to her also.
Dr. Wilde observed the agitated pair with mild astonishment, noticing that both had gone the exact shade of the gunman's coat. He smiled slightly. Newlyweds. Turning away to fondly contemplate a lithograph on his desk, he remarked, "Well, I'm sure you both know the answer to that. What's important is that you're aware of the possibility and are taking precautions to ensure a safe pregnancy."
Meryl was startled when Vash vocalized her next question. "But c'mon, Doc, what's the big deal? Isn't this kind of fuss all a little… premature?" She could tell by the slight tenseness in his voice that the gunman also seemed to be searching for reassurance.
Oddly, that annoyed her even more.
Dr. Wilde began to pace again, clearly warming to his subject. "We have a motto we've been trying to impress upon the public: pregnancy begins before conception. While it may seem a little extreme, it's because people just don't realize just how critical the first few weeks are. It's true that we haven't yet regained all the medical advancements of our ancestors, but we do know a lot about the early stages of fetal development. Even as early as a day…."
As Dr. Wilde droned on, Vash clinging to his every word, Meryl found her thoughts drifting off.
Pregnant. It was not something that she was prepared to think about. Pregnant was for… well, for women who knew what they wanted with their life and where they were going. Not for confused girls chasing hopelessly mixed up guys across an eternal wasteland, both of them searching for… for God only knew.
She sighed.
And yet… what would it be like to have a baby?
She could remember holding and comforting countless children on their travels – Vash had a knack for attracting them – and recalling how surprisingly good it made her feel. Wanted. Needed. Maternal. It had astonished her how easily she took to that role. What would it be like having one of her own? What would it be like carrying… Vash's?
She could almost imagine something moving inside… pushing… clamoring for attention… Eh?
Meryl realized in horror that while she was distracted, Vash had moved to kneel on the floor next her, the side of his head pressed firmly against her stomach. He had a look of bewildered wonderment on his face as he listened to Dr. Wilde with rapt attention. "Really? You guys can tell all that so soon?"
Meryl hurriedly knocked Vash away as Dr. Wilde turned back to face them. He fixed them both with a grave expression. "Pregnancies are nothing to take lightly, Mr. and Mrs. Stryfe. The first months are the most critical. And the earlier you know, the better."
He leaned over to open a desk drawer and pulled out a large, green bottle, which he passed to Meryl. She turned the bottle over to read the label: Wilde Thomas Olde Tyme Tea Tonic.
"Wilde…?" she murmured.
"Bottled right here in Bowe's Flats. My own secret cure-all remedy. It will clear up your nausea and revitalize your body. Mind you, that's the last one."
Meryl looked over at Vash, who was eagerly staring at her with huge puppy dog eyes. She could practically hear him mentally screaming at her: Take it, Meryl! Take it and let's get the heck out of here!!!
She smiled gratefully. "Oh, thank you so much, Dr. Wilde! I'll be sure to drink it as soon as I get back to my hotel – ."
He frowned. "Oh, no, I'm afraid that won't do. You need to get some medicine in you right away, young lady. Now please, drink up."
"But…!" She glanced worriedly at Vash, who seemed to be on the verge of a heart attack. "What about our nausea? Don't you have something for that?"
"For that you should be sure to get plenty of rest and fluids. I would also give you some tonic, but as this is the last bottle I have in stock, I insist that you take it, Miss." He looked over at Vash, "For the sake of your unborn child's safety. I'm sure you understand."
Meryl sighed and drank it all, carefully avoiding Vash's shock-ridden face.
Dr. Wilde appeared satisfied. "Good, good. Now, if you please – I have other patients to attend to…."
"So… cruel…." Vash whimpered, as Dr. Thomas quickly ushered the perplexed duo out the door.
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