Story by Bob Church


            
"Are There Any
            'T's"


            
 

            
"Dr. Abercrombie, wake up, sir…"

            
Rutherford Whitbread Abercrombie, MD slept
            at his desk, oblivious to her voice. The jungle heat and humidity
            had once again overcome him, though it was barely mid-evening.
            Nurse's Aide Bomidgie Hatamagunda lovingly slid her ham hock-like
            hand under the doctor's face, lifting it from the desk, while
            the other hand gently patted his cheek.

            
"Please wake up, Doctor… it's
            time for the Wheel of Fortune television program… you know
            how unpleasant you become when you miss an episode. The wonderful
            Mr. Pat Sajak and the lovely Miss Vanna White are in Las Vegas
            this week, Doctor…"

            
When it became apparent the rotund physician
            wasn't responding, Miss Hatamagunda picked up the ewer of wine
            coolers situated next to the doctor's cup and poured it over
            his head. Once again, in the absence of any movement, she non-verbally
            assessed the situation and contemplated her next action. The
            many first aid courses he'd given her were still hazy in her
            mind, despite her best intentions to retain them. What would
            he do under such circumstances? What was it he'd done when they'd
            pulled Kalula Behatra, unconscious, from the watering trough?

            
Quickly, in recognition of her memory,
            she picked up the telephone, punched a few buttons and spoke
            in Swahili, her arms flailing in animation.

            
The walk from the desk to the couch, barely
            a dozen steps, caused Bomidgie Hatamagunda to gasp for breath
            as she plopped her girth onto the cushions. As she fanned herself,
            she came to the conclusion that some days, she just didn't think
            she was cut out to be a Nurse's Aide. She'd barely had time to
            press the button on the remote when the uniformed orderlies ran
            in. Her raised finger pointing at the doctor, she guided them
            to him, never once looking away from the TV set suspended from
            the wall.

            
Feverishly, the pair worked, moving the
            doctor to the floor and performing CPR.

            
Bomidgie Hatamagunda could hear dull thumps
            in the background. Then… nothing except the sound of equipment
            being rolled across the tiled floor. Two muted voices alternately
            gave instructions until she heard "Kwarlik!" Out of
            the corner of her eye, she saw Dr. Abercrombie's body jump as
            the current passed through him. Again the voices… and the
            thud.

            
On the screen, Pat Sajak gave the wheel
            a spin, informing the audience and participants that consonants
            were now worth $700 and vowels (of course) were worth nothing.
            Yea, just like poor Dr. Abercrombie's chances, Bomidgie Hatamagunda
            supposed. Now, who will pay for the cable? In a field hospital
            in Naganda, a certain Nurse's Aide wished she hadn't wasted those
            tasty wine coolers on the good, albeit deceased, doctor.

            
Bob Church © 6/02

            
 

            
Bob Church resides in mid-Missouri
            with his wife of three decades, Louise, their poodle, Carla,
            and their cat, Callie. After thirty years spent raising five
            children, he has reached the point in his life that allows time
            to pursue his real love, writing. You can find more of his stories/observations
            at notquiteright/

            
For more from Bob visit his other
            stories: January, December, November,
            & October; his
            columns: January,
            December, November,
            October; and his
            poetry: November and
            October.