#dr. evans

Saoirse whirls her way through the clinic, carried on a storm of emotion. She finds Dr. Evans out the back, giving their overnight patients their breakfast. Saoirse's brow furrows even further. This is Briony's job. Dr.Evans rocks back on his heels and regards her through the thick glass of the puppy enclosure. Saoirse mouths 'Where's Briony?' at him. Her chest is heaving, her face contorted. Dr. Evans climbs to his feet. His movements are slow and deliberate. He closes the door carefully behind him and stands in front of her, an oasis of calm amongst the yowling and barking and yapping, and the noise of the blood rushing through her head.

Dr. Evans: Briony rang in sick this morning. Are you alright? You look terrible.

Saoirse: No, Lionel, I’m not alright.

She tells him about Briony ringing up John, and coming home to John’s accusations. A smile flickers behind Dr. Evan’s eyes.

Dr. Evans: So, Saoirse, you’re telling me that you’re angry and upset because your husband accused you of infidelity? After you arrived home…from a date with another man?

Saoirse: Yes, but…okay, I get the irony, I get what you’re saying, but that’s not why I’m angry. I’m angry because that horrible, nasty, backstabbing piece of trash tried to destroy my marriage. For no other reason than she’s a vindictive, jealous little bitch. And I’m angry and upset because she made poor John upset, obviously. And then I had to come home and…

She screws her eyes shut, as if to erase the picture from her memory.

Saoirse: And then I had to come home and tell him…I was leaving him for someone else.

A recently neutered Siamese named Precious starts squalling from the cat enclosure.

Saoirse: I’ve had no sleep, Lionel. John was …I don’t want to relive it, it was really awful. One minute he’d be raging at me, the next clinging to me sobbing. It’s a wonder the neighbours didn’t call the police.

Dr. Evans speaks in a low, soothing voice. Saoirse feels undeserving of the kindness in his eyes.

Dr. Evans: I agree that what Briony did was despicable, but don’t forget that you have no actual proof. I also think that if you’re honest with yourself, you’d realise that your anger towards her might be motivated at least partly by guilt. You’re looking for a scapegoat for all the hurt and humiliation that John is suffering at the moment. Am I right?

After a moment Saoirse nods. Her bottom lip is wobbly. 

6.41 pm

The slices of daylight peeking beneath the lowered blinds are a velvety mauve. Saoirse and Dr. Evans have moved into one of the back rooms, as far away as they can from the din made by the dogs and cats. The only animals in here are those in tanks: they watch Saoirse with elliptical and judgmental eyes, but at least they are silent.

Saoirse washes her hands with deliberate slowness, languorously lathering her skin with shimmering translucent bubbles that smell faintly of lemon. After she has finished she lets cold water trickle slowly over her hands, turning them this way and that until every trace of soap has been rinsed away. Then she slides the rough paper towel along the pink wet lengths of her fingers. The operation takes approximately two minutes. Dr. Evans doesn’t speak or move until she has dropped the last damp wad of paper in the bin, where it lands with a dulcet squelch. He closes his eyes for a few moments in silent and reverential contemplation. Then he clears his throat.

Dr. Evans: Can I tempt you to stay back for another ten or fifteen minutes?

He looks furtively towards the door then lowers his voice.

[previous]

6.44 pm

Saoirse: Alright. But I'd better ring John. It's my turn to cook dinner tonight.

John doesn't say anything when he picks up the phone. She can hear him breathing, quick shallow breaths. She can't hear the TV.

Saoirse: Hi, hon. Can you hear me? John: I can hear you.

His tone makes the air seem a few degrees cooler.

Saoirse: There's an emergency at work and I have to stay behind a bit longer to give Dr. Evans a hand.

There is an appreciative murmur of amusement from Dr. Evans at her choice of words.

Saoirse: I should be home in about half an hour. Is that okay? John: It was your turn to cook dinner. It's important that I eat dinner at a reasonable hour. Otherwise I'm up all night with reflux. You know that. Saoirse: Yes. I do know. I'm very sorry, John. But it couldn't be helped. I'll start dinner as soon as I get home. Or would you like me to pick up something on the way home instead? John: You know what? Don't worry about it. I'll just make myself some soup. Saoirse: John, please don't be angry-

But he's hung up.

Briony: Oh, Dr. Evans! You are just sooooo AMAZING and gifted. This is…this is art! Dr. Evans: It’s an x-ray, Briony. Briony: An x-ray of a poor little doggie who was brought in 12 weeks ago after being hit by a car! With 3 broken neck vertebrae and a mangled paw! And now look! There’s absolutely no evidence of any fractures at all! This x-ray is a work of art. It’s a masterpiece. Dr Evans: I’m just doing my job, Briony. Briony: You’re a miracle worker, Dr. Evans. Dr Evans: Briony, all I did was stabilise the damaged portion of the spine using standard principles of fracture repair. And put a splint on his foot. I’m hardly a miracle worker.  Briony: You’re too modest, Dr. Evans. 

She gazes at him with damp brown eyes. Dr. Evans makes a scoffing noise. He makes his voice deliberately hearty.

Dr. Evans: As I said, I’m just doing my job. Anyway, it’s time for you to go home, Briony. I’ll see you back here bright and early tomorrow.   Briony: Oh, but isn’t there anything else you need me for? I could help you write up your notes, I could even do some cleaning… Dr. Evans: Everything’s fine. Go home, Briony.

Briony’s bottom lip quivers, but then she lifts her chin and smiles valiantly.

Briony: Okay Dr. Evans! I’ll see you in the morning. Dr. Evans: Actually, there is one more thing you could do for me.

She turns at the door, her face radiant with hope.

Dr. Evans: Could you send Saoirse in to see me on your way out, please? Briony: Certainly.

Saoirse watches Briony drive away. Then she makes sure all the doors are locked, and goes into the surgery. Dr. Evans' kind eyes crinkle at her. Saoirse gives him an artificially bright smile.

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Native Rose Bush blooming in June

Bumblebee on dandelion

Bumblebee on rose

Bee

“What well appointed commonwealths! where each Adds to the stock of happiness for all; Wisdom’s own forums! whose professors teach Eloquent lessons in their vaulted hall! Galleries of art! and schools of industry! Stores of rich fragrance! Orchestras of song! What marvelous seats of hidden alchemy! How oft, when wandering far and erring long, Man might learn truth and virtue from the BEE!” Bowring.

Bee

Bee

“Their short proboscis sips No luscious nectar from the wild thyme’s lips, From the lime’s leaf no amber drops they steal, Nor bear their grooveless thighs the foodful meal: On other’s toils in pamper’d leisure thrive The lazy fathers of the industrious hive.” Dr Evans

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