By one o'clock the next afternoon, room 211 at Fort Atkinson Memorial Health Center looked like a convention of the North Central Association of Elderly and Retired Physicians. Henry had no idea how word had gotten around so quickly. Professional friends of his had come from Madison, Milwaukee, even Chicago. Jim Ritter, a former partner, called from Phoenix. Seven Doctors - two GPs, three surgeons, one an orthopedic surgeon and one a Neurosurgeon, the other a general surgeon, a Radiologist and Arthur Conrad, the Child Psychiatrist were there.
"My god, guys, I'm not dying. I just got a little bump on the head."
"I was told you were out for at least a half-hour. If a hard headed Kraut like you could be out that long, you took a hell of a shot." That was William Hatcher, the Neurosurgeon."
"I wasn't completely out that long but each time I tried to get up, I got dizzy and kind of blanked out again. I'm fine."
"Shut the fuck up, you goddam ambulance chaser. You may know the law and tonsils and shit like that but I'm the goddam Neurosurgeon here. Let me look in your eyes."
"You can look all you damn please but if you send me a bill, I'll stuff it up your ass.
Dexter Marshall walked into the room.
"Oh, hi, Dex. Gentlemen, this is Dexter Marshall. He's an expert Proctologist. I'll have him stuff it up Bill's ass.
"Sorry, Dex, no business for you here. My problem's on the other end. Come to think of it, you may be able to help. Bill Hatcher here is a pain in the ass."
"Pleased to meet you Dr. Marshall. Did you do the work on this old Kraut?"
"What work was that?"
"I heard he had his head up his ass for about five years."
"I'd like to take credit for that but you'll have to talk to the master Kraut healer, Dr. Marty Tolliver."
"You got that right, Dex. Where is Marty, anyway?"
"I took him to my house while you were in x-ray this morning."
"Is he OK?"
"You shouldn't have to ask. He's the toughest little guy I've ever come across."
"Who the hell is Dr. Tolliver. I've never heard of the bastard."
"You know, Bill, I think Dex can help you with your birth defect. Your asshole is where your mouth should be. Think you can help Dex?"
"My wife has been trying to perform that transfer for fifty years. I'm sure you're an excellent doctor, Dex, but I'm a hopeless case. I'm afflicted with chronic foul mouth syndrome. Always have been, always will. Deal with it, Hank."
The crude, friendly banter continued among these old friends for another half-hour before the Rojas came to mind. "Dex, who's taking care of that Mexican family?"
"They are still in the emergency room. Little girl has a broken arm and Reindking is bitching about who's going to pay for it."
"Damn it, get me Reindking!"
Herman Reindking was the hospital administrator, generally congenial but assuming what Henry's concern to be, entered the room with a surly, "Damn it, Henry, this is not a charitable institution."
"Are you going to let those poor people stay in the emergency room all week?"
"They can leave any time they want."
"Get me the phone." There were still eight doctors in the room plus Reindking and Henry. After considerable shuffling of bodies, Henry was handed the phone.
"Hello, Les? Hank here. How much are we giving to the Fort Atkinson, Wisconsin hospital?
"Jesus, Hank, the way you're spending money lately, you'll be down to your last forty million if you're not careful. Hold on a sec. OK, I got it here. You gave one hundred thousand last year."
"Cut it off."
Herman Reindking turned death white. "Uh - Henry, please. Your contribution is almost a quarter of our budget. Be reasonable, Henry, please!"
"Hold on, Les.
"I think I'm being very reasonable. I'm giving that money so that people like the Rojas can get the services they need. Now, do they get the treatment they need or do I finish my phone call?"
"Henry, you know that this hospital is here to serve the local people. If we were to give free treatment to every wetback that comes through here to pick tomatoes, we'd have to shut down."
"Go ahead, Les. Cut it off."
Henry hadn't noticed that Dex had left the room. He reentered now with two other doctors, both also members of the hospital board. There were seven members on the board and with Henry, Dex and the two additions, they had a quorum.
"Wait a minute, Hank. We'll have a board meeting."
"Les, hold on that. I'll call you back."
The details of that brief meeting are moot. The Rojas got the needed treatment. Gerald Davis, who had been the leading orthopedic surgeon in Milwaukee before his retirement, set Sofia's arm. Herman's weak, "But he doesn't have rights here." evaporated in Henry's withering glance.
The crude banter not withstanding, Henry was moved by the concern of his friends. "Thanks, guys. It was very kind of you to make this effort. I'm deeply grateful."
"Shit, we don't give a fuck about you. If we let you die, who the hell would keep the damn vultures from suing our asses off?"
"Thanks, Bill. I'm really touched by your deep concern for my well being."
"I do what I can. Who's this Tolliver? I thought I knew every goddam quack in Wisconsin. Come to think of it, they're all in this room with the possible exception of Marshall over there. I don't know him that well but if he's a friend of yours, Kraut, he's probably a quack too."
"How can you be such an ass hole and such a good doctor."
"Oh - Uncle Henry. You cussed!'
Marty and Jerry Dissler walked in.
"Great timing, Jerry."
"Marybeth said Marty was a pest all afternoon wanting to get back here. She couldn't leave because her boys would be getting home from school before she got back. I wanted to check you out anyway."
"Uncle Henry, you know that Uncle Jerry always has rotten timing. He wasn't there when that druggy fu..." Marty glanced around the room. He didn't know anyone except Uncle Dex and Uncle Art. He was pretty sure that fuck wasn't the right word to use in front of all those old men.
"Ah - he wasn't there when that druggy did sex on me and he wasn't there when he tried to do it on Jaime."
"Be careful. You might be Henry's Little Bird but you're my Little Weasel. You keep bugging me I'll tell your Uncle Henry what you said last night."
"He just said it."
"Marty, did you say, 'ass hole'?"
"Ya - twice."
"Who did you call that?"
"That Vito guy who hit you and took me."
"Well, I don't want you saying that anymore but do you remember our talks about how some things are right sometime and wrong other times?"
"Yes."
"Well, when referring to Vito and Bill Hatcher I think it's right."
Everyone in the room roared with laughter.
Dex stepped forward. "Gentlemen, I'd like you to meet Dr. Marty Tolliver, world renown Kraut healer."
There was a murmur of confusion. Henry asked, "OK, Dr. A. H. Hatcher, am I well enough to go home?"
"Hell yes. Take more than a dago's gun butt to break that hard Kraut head of yours."
"Jerry, will you take this austere group of gentlemen - Oh and take Bill Hatcher too, out to Grünfelder. Art can explain Dr. Tolliver to them. I'll be there as soon as they let me out.
"Dex, would you mind calling the Badger and have them get a buffet together. Have Marybeth and the kids come out. Jerry, you get Cindy and your kids. I'll call Reind and Myrt before I leave here.
"Remember, Dex, there are twelve kids at Martin House now. We'll need enough for all of us."
After everyone left, Marty crawled into Henry's bed. "I'm sorry I said ass hole."
"I'm sorry I said it too."
"You OK, Uncle Henry?"
"Little head ache but I'm fine.
"You were a brave boy."
"I wasn't brave. I was mad. He hurt you."
"Trust me. You were brave. I don't think many ten-year-old boys could come up with a plan like you did when they were being kidnapped."
"Maybe, but I wasn't being kidnapped. He just thought he was kidnapping me. I knew I could get away."
"Well, I think you're brave and I'm very proud of you."
Marty laid his head on Henry's chest. He was quiet for several minutes. He was obviously thinking.
"Kiki's dead. So is the druggy."
"I know, Little Bird. What are you thinking?"
"I know she was my mother and all but she really wasn't a mom. She's like my dad. I can't feel sorry for her and I can't forgive her. I don't hate her but if somebody's going to forgive her, it can't be me. It has to be God."
Henry hugged the boy. "God, I love you, Little Bird."
It was a very enjoyable evening. These men had been Henry's friends - some of them for fifty years. Since Henry's "rebirth", all of his friends were much younger and while Henry very much enjoyed the youthfulness those relationships engendered in him, he realized tonight that there was nothing quite like old friends - not necessarily old in age but old in duration. A year ago, seeing these men would have driven Henry deeper into depression. Tonight he could enjoy them, again engage in playful insults and, like obstreperous children, use language and analogies they could not use in their professional arena nor around their wives. It was fun again - the eight of them acting childish, crude and obnoxious as they had when they needed this kind of unwinding to deal with the pressure and stresses of their jobs.
In the midst of this conviviality, Henry was very much aware that this could not be happening if not for Marty. When the boy came to Henry, he was hugged hard and Henry had to wipe tears from his eyes. Marty loved Uncle Henry too but he didn't want to hug him right now. He was annoyed. He had been hugged, hair-tousled, told how cute, smart and brave he was until he was about to puke. He came to Uncle Henry, not for the hug, but to ask if he could get out of there. Could he go out and yoke up Ferdinand and give kids rides?
Yes, it had been a good night. Henry had made contact with his old life without Annie and he was the better for it. He could remember those good old times now with joy and pleasure rather than with desperation and despair.
God, he loved Marty.