Listen to the Child. Carolyn McSparren

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СКАЧАТЬ failures. Listen, ten years ago bone marrow transplants were very dangerous. They still are, but the success rate and the new techniques make them much less so. We transplant hearts and kidneys and implant pacemakers and defibrillators like garage mechanics. Now. But we didn’t when we started. Let those geniuses practice on some other people before they work on you.”

      “But—”

      “You are young, smart, tough, healthy, quick and you’ve made incredible strides in lipreading. You have closed captioning on your television. Your computer lets you talk on the telephone—”

      “Only at my own computer in my own house.”

      “Still. And now you’ve got Kevlar…”

      The little dog that lay beside Kit’s chair raised his head and wagged his stumpy tail when he heard his name.

      “You’re functioning better than nine-tenths of my patients.”

      “That’s because I’m working so hard at pretending this deafness thing is only a small inconvenience. Reuben, you deal with deaf patients every day, but you don’t have a clue what it’s really like to be locked into this silent world. If I thought it would last forever I don’t know what I’d do—I can wait if you make me, but I miss hearing Emma’s voice. And music. Emma hates having me like this. She doesn’t say much, but she’s stopped having her friends for sleepovers, and she practically dives into the car when I pick her up at school for fear some of her classmates will come over to chat with me. God, Reuben, what if I can’t hear her say ‘I do’? What if I never hear my grandchildren laugh?”

      He threw up his hands. “I wasn’t aware that she was engaged. Obviously we’d better fly you to Boston this evening.”

      “All right. So she’s only ten years old. But all I can see is this blasted silence stretching away until the day I die. Sometimes I don’t think I can take it any longer.”

      “By the time Emma is married and pregnant—in that order, I hope—you’ll have had the operation. You’ll hear your grandchildren laugh.”

      “Promise?”

      “You know I can’t do that.”

      “But you think?”

      “Yeah. They’ll probably have something even better by then. So far I’m told that with the successful procedures, the patient only gets hearing like a scratchy old Caruso record.”

      “Reuben, at the moment I’d kill for a scratchy Caruso.” She looked at her watch. “Oh, Lord, if I don’t get out of here I’m going to be late getting back to my new job.”

      “Job?”

      She picked up Kevlar’s leash. “I’m working as a grunt at Creature Comfort, the vet clinic.”

      “Lisa takes Biff and Shorty there. Great place.”

      “They saved Kevlar’s life. He had to have a kidney removed.”

      “He’s okay now?”

      “Fine. Thanks to Dr. Thorn. Do you know him?”

      “Lisa’s mentioned him. Great with his hands, very, very bad with his bedside manner. If you’re going to work there, it’s probably a good thing you can’t hear him.”

      “So I’ve been told. Okay, Reuben. If you’re absolutely dead set against it, I won’t risk that operation right this minute. But you have to promise me you’ll research it and talk to the guys in Boston. Try to figure out the absolute first minute it’ll be safe for me to have it.”

      “That I’ll do, but don’t expect me to fly you off to Boston tomorrow.”

      In the parking garage she strapped Kevlar into his car seat so that he could see out the windows, strapped herself in and started to back out of the parking space. Kevlar put a paw on her arm. She braked and checked her rearview mirror again. A red Corvette, nearly too low to the ground to be seen, flashed by and raced down the ramp.

      “Whew! Too close, Kev. Thanks. I didn’t see him.”

      The dog wagged his tail and grinned. She drove out more sedately. She’d never realized how much she relied on sound. Before, she’d have heard that idiot’s tires squeal around the corner even before she saw him. Thank God for Kevlar.

      “You know, boy,” she said as she drove toward Creature Comfort. “I may be a risk-taker, but I’ve never been foolhardy. I always called for backup when I needed it, and followed my commander’s orders. The screwup with the flash-bang didn’t happen because I went off half-cocked.”

      She turned onto the interstate that led to Germantown.

      “Mom taught me that the important thing for a cop is to go home alive at the end of the shift. Take as few risks as possible, but be aware that the risks are always present. Now I’m stuck in a situation where I can’t even assess the danger.

      “The last thing I want is to stick Emma and my parents with somebody who has seizures or is half-blind. Emma’s had too much put on her as it is. No wonder she’s scared. A ten-year-old shouldn’t have to play momma’s little helper. Momma’s supposed to help her.”

      Kevlar leaned over as far as his car seat allowed and licked her ear.

      “Okay, so you’re momma’s little helper.” She laughed and wiped her ear. “You better keep your mind on your work once we get to the clinic. Stay away from the big dogs that could scarf you up as a morning snack.”

      WEDNESDAY MORNING of her first week she’d come in earlier than usual because Emma had some sort of early breakfast thing at school. Kit stuck her head into the first treatment room because the light was on.

      Liz Carlyle hovered over a tiny red dog that lay on its side on the table. She looked up when Kit opened the door and said, “Thank goodness. Come on in here, will you? Nobody else is in yet.”

      Kit came in and sent Kevlar to the corner of the room to lie down.

      Liz looked up at Kit and said slowly, “She’s a Brussels griffon. Her owner dropped her off just before midnight. She couldn’t stay. She’s got kids at home. These little folks almost never have more than one pup per litter, but I think she’s got two squeezed in there. If she doesn’t deliver at least one in the next five minutes I’ll have to cut her.”

      Kit nodded. “I’ve never been around anything like this.”

      “Just don’t faint or scream,” Liz said. “Hey! I think we’ve finally got some action!”

      The pup looked more like a wet, red gerbil than a dog. At Liz’s instructions, Kit wrapped it warmly in a towel and jiggled it until it began to breathe. Meanwhile Liz ignored her as she gently pried the second pup out of its mother with the tips of her fingers. As Kit bundled that one against her chest, Liz began to work furiously over the little dog. Five minutes later Kit held a third pup.

      “Enough!” Liz said and turned to Kit. “Can you handle all three of those guys while I carry the mother to the whelping box?”

      Kit nodded again. “Sure.”

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