JК
Bullet Park :: Cheever John
Страница: 23 из 131She could hear Mullin's resonant and cheerful voice and Tony's quiet replies.
"There's absolutely nothing wrong with him," the doctor said when he came down. "I've taken a specimen and some blood and I'll have the laboratory check these. If he gets up tomorrow I'll give him a cardiogram but I'm pretty sure there's nothing wrong. As a matter of fact I haven't seen as perfect a specimen in a long time. Of course he's a young man but he's certainly enjoying all the benefits of his time of life. This doesn't get him out of bed but it may be a passing depression. If he doesn't get out of bed tomorrow I'll give you some pills that ought to do the trick." He wrote a prescription and smiled at Nellie. Our relationships with healers are swift, intimate and in some ways tender, and for a moment Nellie loved the doctor. He asked her to call him in the morning at around eleven and she did.
"He wouldn't get up again," Nellie said. "He's been in bed six days now. I gave him one of the pills in a glass of orange juice about ten. A little later I heard him get up and take a shower and then he came down into the kitchen. He was dressed but I saw right away that something was wrong. He was staggering a little and laughing and the pupils of his eyes were like pinpoints. I asked if he wanted some breakfast and he said he wanted six fried eggs and six slices of toast and a quart of milk. He said he'd never been so hungry in his life. He was very restless. He wandered around the kitchen laughing and once he bumped into a table like a drunken man. After he'd eaten all his breakfast he said: 'I feel strong. I've never felt so strong in my life. I'd better get out of the house before I tear it down.' That's what he said. Then he went out of the kitchen door and started running up the path towards Courtland. It's an old bridle path that cuts through the woods there for about six miles. He used to run it when he was on the track team. Well, I couldn't keep up with him of course so I drove around to Route 64 where the path comes out. I waited there for about an hour, I guess, and then he came running along the path. He seemed to have sweated out the drug because he didn't seem drunk any more but he seemed to have lost his memory. He couldn't remember eating breakfast and he didn't seem very clear in his mind about how he'd gotten out to Route 64. I drove him home. He went to sleep in the car. Then he took another shower and went back to bed."
"Well I guess we won't try that again," Dr. Mullin said. "I've heard of bad side effects from that drug but I thought we'd take a chance. I don't really know what to tell you Mrs. Nailles unless you want to try psychotherapy. I work with Dr.
"There's absolutely nothing wrong with him," the doctor said when he came down. "I've taken a specimen and some blood and I'll have the laboratory check these. If he gets up tomorrow I'll give him a cardiogram but I'm pretty sure there's nothing wrong. As a matter of fact I haven't seen as perfect a specimen in a long time. Of course he's a young man but he's certainly enjoying all the benefits of his time of life. This doesn't get him out of bed but it may be a passing depression. If he doesn't get out of bed tomorrow I'll give you some pills that ought to do the trick." He wrote a prescription and smiled at Nellie. Our relationships with healers are swift, intimate and in some ways tender, and for a moment Nellie loved the doctor. He asked her to call him in the morning at around eleven and she did.
"He wouldn't get up again," Nellie said. "He's been in bed six days now. I gave him one of the pills in a glass of orange juice about ten. A little later I heard him get up and take a shower and then he came down into the kitchen. He was dressed but I saw right away that something was wrong. He was staggering a little and laughing and the pupils of his eyes were like pinpoints. I asked if he wanted some breakfast and he said he wanted six fried eggs and six slices of toast and a quart of milk. He said he'd never been so hungry in his life. He was very restless. He wandered around the kitchen laughing and once he bumped into a table like a drunken man. After he'd eaten all his breakfast he said: 'I feel strong. I've never felt so strong in my life. I'd better get out of the house before I tear it down.' That's what he said. Then he went out of the kitchen door and started running up the path towards Courtland. It's an old bridle path that cuts through the woods there for about six miles. He used to run it when he was on the track team. Well, I couldn't keep up with him of course so I drove around to Route 64 where the path comes out. I waited there for about an hour, I guess, and then he came running along the path. He seemed to have sweated out the drug because he didn't seem drunk any more but he seemed to have lost his memory. He couldn't remember eating breakfast and he didn't seem very clear in his mind about how he'd gotten out to Route 64. I drove him home. He went to sleep in the car. Then he took another shower and went back to bed."
"Well I guess we won't try that again," Dr. Mullin said. "I've heard of bad side effects from that drug but I thought we'd take a chance. I don't really know what to tell you Mrs. Nailles unless you want to try psychotherapy. I work with Dr.