DA 1. The Last Client

At the end of a hard day, kind hearted Dr Terence is confronted by a frail old patient, who he takes home. What follows is anybody's guess..........

 

1.     The last client

“NEXT!” He rubbed his nape as he stretched out in his chair.

 

It had been a tiring day, what with a heavy clientele and his partner Dr Ashok on leave for the day.  Now at past 9.30 pm, even the coolness of the AC failed to disarm the stifling sultriness of the evening. Thank God, this was the last of them…

 

None came.  He turned the registration slip in his hands, reading the details:

No.   47                                                                                                  Name :  Omeeshella  

Age : ................ 

Gender :.................  

 

Now that was careless of Sheila, his receptionist.  A very dependable hand otherwise.  She’d left early for some urgent work.  Ah well..

 

“Mr Omeeshella!”, he called aloud, much in contrast to his normal soft tone.

 

It certainly ought to be a male at this late time of the day, he mused,  No, it was night.  It had been a busy day.  And then some clients could be so trying! He yearned to rush home to Sandra, his lovely wife, for that special candle-light dinner she’d planned for him on his birthday!  With Ashok away, he couldn’t even take an early break.  But that was no matter for worry, for Sandra understood..

 

 

Eight months into their wedding, they went about like they’d known each other for ages!  Having met at a concert, it was ‘love at first sight’ for both.  They spent precious time, getting to know more about one another.  She talked at length about her life as a junior lawyer, and listened in rapt attention as he unfolded the world of medicine before her.   They tied the knot in less than two years of courtship and settled down in a small rented cottage in the heart of the city.   Despite their busy work schedules, they made it a priority to plan a special event together at least once a month. Their relationship flourished

 

Wearily, he leaned back in his chair and smiled.  God’s benevolence had been abundant, filing their lives with overwhelming joy.  In turn they practiced empathy and patience with their clients, even if sometimes meant a strain on their finances.  Neither of them fretted over such trivial matters.  They were celebrating life together!

 

He broke out of his reverie.   Now, where was Mr Omeeshella?  Strange name though. He dismissed the thought.  Perhaps he’d left after the long wait. 

 

Winding up for the day, he picked up his briefcase, shut his clinic and hastily stepped into the corridor.  Now for the much awaited dinner and celebration… yahoo!  He grinned forgetting all the fatigue of the day.  Most of the stores along the corridor had shut down.

 

“Hi doc, you are late today”, Mahesh called out as he switched of the lights of his Book Store and reached for the shutter keys.

 

“Ah umm”, smiled Terence as he walked past, “G’Night Mahesh, and have a nice weekend”

 

Good night to you too doc”.  The phone rang and Mahesh leapt for it.

 

 

The lonely yellow bulb dangling overhead barely managed to dispel the dark shadows in the musty corridor. He and Dr Ashok had plans to find a suave place for their clinic, at the earliest. Of course, that called for more funds, and boy, he and Ashok were working hard to make it happen!

 

As he took long hurried strides along the corridor, he suddenly stopped in his track.  His heart leaped into his throat, causing it to skip a beat.  A shadow in the distant corner had swayed ever so gently in the eerie, pale light.  Summoning all his courage, he cautiously approached the figure and managed to stammer, “Who… who’s there?”.  

 

Long gnarled trembling fingers reached out and clutched him by the wrist. He struggled futilely to wriggle out of the grip, and soon his resistance weakened as a strange feeling of warmth and tranquillity enveloped him.  He took in the fragile form of an old man huddled on the wooden bench, as his resistance waned.

 

“I guess I’m your last client”. The old man almost rasped out, his speech interspersed with wheezes.  The speech, despite the strain, was impeccable.  He looked into the old man’s face, the blue eyes shone with an ethereal glow and brimming with kindness, yet with a fathomless despair surging in its depths.  Attired in a clean pair of white pants and shirt, though a bit crumpled, he appeared neglected.

 

Regaining his composure, he forced a smile and managing to salvage his professional demeanour, he blurted, “Hello Sir, I’m Dr Roberts, Terence Roberts and yes, you happen to be my last client for today.  I did call out your name a couple of times, and assumed that

you had left.” 

 

“You must forgive me son, I think I snoozed off while I waited.  Now I guess it’s time for you to retire for the day.”  The old man suddenly appeared to slump in the shadows.

 

Terence was in a tearing hurry.  “Mr Omeeshella”, He flashed his friendly smile, "I guess that’s your name, it’s rather too late now. So how about come over to my clinic tomorrow ? I’ll see you immediately.  Now, if you wish, I could drop you home, as you see, its too late to find a public transport”.

 

The old man’s expression faltered, but he smiled wanly up to the doctor. “That’s so kind of you son, but it’s okay. I’ll wait for you right here”, and he let go off his wrist...the heavenly feeling persisted.

 

"Such eloquence and such refined manners... and at his age!" Terence mused silently. "This man ought to have lived a distinguished life in his heydays, till of course, some tragedy struck... a tale of 'riches to rags'? Hmm, impressive indeed." Then interrupted by several impatient calls from Sandra, he managed to piece together the facts that Mr. Omeeshella was homeless, with no next of kin to spend the night with. With this realization it appeared extremely rude and callous to on his part to leave the dignified old man to spend the night in the stuffy corridor. With some gentle persuasion, the old man relented to accompany Terence to his home.

 

*******

 

Sandra rushed to the door, a song in her heart, as the car drove in through the gates�"a scene reminiscent of the day she first met her beloved Terry. Life had unfolded like a beautiful symphony since they exchanged the vows, their love growing manifold with each passing day. Together, they had resolved to work hard to make their dream castle.   But their weekends would remain sacred, reserved for quiet moments together, far from the hustle and bustle of everyday life, just the two of them, unless of course, an unforeseen emergency broke their schedule. Sandra had just one prayer, that God would keep them together in happiness for a long time, so they could spread it around.  Aah! If this was cloud nine, then she had taken a giant leap! Her eyes twinkled, and her heart beat fast with ecstasy.

 

 

Hey, who was this with Terry?  Aww, not today!  This was their special day.  She frowned hard, at the unwelcome sight of the old man being helped out of the car.  Though she knew that she was being rude, she found it hard to hide her feelings.

 

Ignoring her silent protests, Terry ushered in Mr Omeeshella.

 

He hurriedly gave her a hug and a kiss and whispered into her ear, “Sandy, please, please, be good with this poor old man”. 

 

“Darling, we’ve a special guest tonight.  Meet Mr Omeeshella”.  He beamed, still holding her close.  “He’s one of my patients, I couldn’t leave behind at the clinic, at this late hour”.

 

“Mr Omeeshella, this is Sandra, my wife, and she’s a practicing lawyer”. 

 

“Hello Mr Omeshella.  Welcome to our home”.  Sandra greeted politely, extending her hand.

 

“Bless you child”.  The old man replied, smiling disarmingly as they shook hands.

 

“Sandra has planned a special dinner today for my birthday.  Won’t you join us?”  Terry invited warmly.

 

The old man was only too glad to oblige. 

 

Terry led him to the washroom and came back to give her a hurried account of the old man and how he’d been compelled to bring the poor thing home rather than leave him behind to be tortured in the cold night and perhaps to even die.  Sandra was quick to realize the gravity of the situation and nodded assent.

 

They came to the dining room to the pleasant sight of a birthday cake adorned with pretty candles waiting to be lit.

 

“Oh, that’s a wonderful cake!”. Mr Omeeshella gushed.  “Let me read what’s written on it.   “Hmmm….Happy Birthday Dear Terry.”  He beamed at the two. 

 

Sandra lit the 26 figure candles and Terry blew them out. Amidst cheerful applause  Mr Omeeshella happily joined in to sing the Happy Birthday song along with Sandra, as Terry cut the cake.  She wished him Happy Birthday. 

 

“Many happy returns of the wonderful day, and bless you my son”.  Mr Omeeshella wheezed.

 

At the table, the three made light conversation.  Some more introductions followed, and Sandra found herself gradually warming up to the old man.  Though, of course, she’d have certainly loved to enjoy the night with just the two of together. 

 

The candle light dinner took on an ethereal hue.  

 

Mr Omeeshella appreciated the pleasing aroma of the twinkling candles.  He admired Sandra's culinary prowess, savouring the aroma of her delectable dishes and the sumptuous cake she had masterfully baked.  He savoured each bite with graceful precision, his refined manners and elegant gestures leaving Terry and Sandra in awe. Profusely thanking the young couple for the magnificent dinner, he blessed them again before being led to the spare bedroom. Terry and Sandra made him comfortable with extra blankets, for it was a cold night. They did not forget to leave the night lamp on and a flask of warm water within reach, just in case…  Terry made a preliminary physical assessment of the patient before bidding him goodnight.

 

Back in their bedroom, Sandra fretted and fumed at Terry for spoiling such a nicely and painstakingly planned dinner while he tried his best to pacify her.  He knew that she was kind at heart and would calm down soon.  

 

However, Sandra had genuine concerns.  A lawyer by profession, she  voiced her one outstanding fear, “Terry, he looks so weak and fragile.  You haven’t examined him in detail.  God knows what his problem is.  What if the old man passes away in sleep? ..God forbid!  Who will take responsibility for him? What answer will you give the public?  Gosh, your career has just begun!” 

 

Terry reflected silently on her words, “Well, on the face of it, he seems to be out of immediate danger, though at times he looks too ill.” Terry muttered to himself, acknowledging the gravity of the situation.

 

Both were novices in their respective professions.  Terry was preparing for his PG entrance examination after two years of practice, Sandra worked under a senior lawyer after completing her Bachelors in Law.  Together, they had woven a dream and were working diligently to turn it into reality.  Finances were low, but they remained undeterred. 

 

“I helped him in good faith.  Let’s now leave the rest to the good Lord.”  Terry sighed aloud.

 

As the clock crept past midnight, unfinished work still lingered �" what they fondly referred to as the "minutes of the day,". It had become a cherished ritual between them, a time when they exchanged details of their respective workdays. Interestingly, Terry would offer Sandra advice on handling criminal cases, while Sandra shared insights on patient care for Terry. Their light hearted conversations provided mutual comfort, a way to unwind before they finally called it a night.

 

However, on this particular evening, the hour grew too late, and they reluctantly cut their exchange short. When the clock struck two, they bid each other goodnight, almost ceremoniously, and turned off the lights.

 

Terry was confident that the old man would make it through another day and many more to come.  Yet, a lingering fear tugged at his heart.. “What if Mr Om doesn't wake up tomorrow?”  His gaze drifted towards the guest room where the old man rested, and he sent a silent prayer heavenwards, “God I’ve done all I could as of now.  Do, please see him through the night…. Amen!”.

 

 

* * * * * * * * *

 

 

                                                                       Continued.................

Author's Note

Pls comment on the content, the flow, the diction and the dialogue. also comment on anything u find worth telling about.

Reviews

[Marie]

I read this through twice and didn't find a single mistake. It's very well written, and the dialogue sounds real. You seem to use a lot of ellipses but then so do I, though an editor once cautioned me against using too many.

[Effervescent Dreams]

Thanks Marie for your feedback and appreciation. Glad that you called my attention to the ellipses. Shall take note of them in future.

Nimmi

[C. Lee Battaglia]

Just amazing and such a great story line Nimmi!
I see so much talent and potential in your work!
So please keep on writing like you do!

C. Lee Battaglia

[Effervescent Dreams]

Thanks Lee

[Depth of Woman]

Nimmi,

I read your writing here and want to say how talented you are! I love the way you introduce the setting and characters. Your writing style defines a constant gratuitous pace of enlightenment as well as warring with the darkness of our flaws in the human world we thrive upon. I enjoyed the dimensions of your characters and cannot wait to read more! I struggle writing books and the way you write inspires me...you could definitely depict vivid images in my head, you have tons of talent with this! I only want to know more and read more! Thank you!

[Effervescent Dreams]

Thanks dear. Your response was overwhelming!.... You've boosted my morale to pick up where i left off. thank you once again.....

[Depth of Woman]

You are very welcome and a very kind sister!! :)