RUNNING HEAD: SHORT STORY 1

Short Story
Kathe Gunckle
Baker College
Ms. Stacy Dacheux

RUNNING HEAD: SHORT STORY 2

Abstract

Wendy is doctor in a small town. She loves her job and specializes in rare diseases and how to cure them. A stranger asks her to go to a far away land where her help is needed to help people who are dying. She is concerned about going because she is afraid of stepping outside her small town and her comfort zone. While traveling she encounters those who are trying to stop her, becomes unsure about her ability to help and becomes sick herself and does not understand what she is suffering from. In the end she is able to help those in need and bring back valuable information to help others in her small town and elsewhere.

RUNNING HEAD: SHORT STORY 3
Short Story Helping those who can’t help themselves is so much a part of me now; it’s hard to recall just when it started. As kids, Caitlin Morse and I would play hospital for hours on end. Each and every blond haired, blue eyed baby doll as well as each cuddly teddy bear had been bandaged, operated on and cured of every imaginable disease by the time we were 12. Caitlin went on to marry a doctor and I chose to become one. I often wonder if following her path would have been easier. Choosing a path in medicine is not easy. There are those who chose the path that provided wealth while expending very little time while others chose to do something they love regardless of the monetary reward. When I reached the point in medical school where I had to make that decision, like other things in life, the decision was made for me. My father was diagnosed with a rare blood disorder just as I was ready to enter the world of making money to pay off student loans. The doctors were baffled and my father went quickly. The combined grief and frustration of my mother, brothers and extended family fell on my shoulders and my destiny became clear. It was as if I could hear them all screaming, “Do something about this!” Never being one to wander too far from home, the local hospital became my place of employment after graduation. Growing up here and knowing everyone has caused most to refer to me as “Wendy” rather than “Dr. Trent.” Some might think it disrespectful, instead, it provides comfort. Life was good. Though a cure for my father’s disease was not within reach, my research and practice were on a steady pace and my life fit in a comfortable little box, just the way I liked it. RUNNING HEAD: SHORT STORY 4 What a beautiful morning! Living on the east coast in the spring was as close to heaven as anyone could get here on earth. The mixture of the salt water and the blooming trees created a smell in the air like no other, a cross between the first spring rain and that just showered smell. I often came out of my quaint little house on the shore feeling as though I was Snow White or perhaps Cinderella. The birds would sing, the clouds would smile and all seemed right with the world. Were I able to sing, I might be compelled to break out into song on a day like this. Not wanting to wake neighbors or scare birds, I chose silence rather than respond to the musical number in my head. Heading down the hall I was surprised to hear “Dr. Trent?” “Stranger in town” I thought as I turned around. Standing before me was a man about my height with sandy brown hair, glasses and the most wrinkled suit I had ever seen. Trying not to give him the once over, I looked him straight in the eye, “I’m Dr. Trent, may I help you?” The stranger went on to explain that he was the uncle of my patient in 14A and he wanted to know how his nephew was doing. After making small talk and giving him the information that I could, I prepared to walk off. “Excuse me” the stranger stated with some urgency, “are you the Dr. Trent whose father died of Walters Syndrome?” I stood there, frozen to the floor. Who was this man? How did he know my father? The stranger and I stared at each other for what seemed an eternity. As gracefully as I could, I stated that indeed I was the daughter of Robert Trent and yes he had passed from Walters Syndrome. The stranger asked if we could talk privately and for some odd reason I felt the need to honor his request. Over the next hour he went on to tell me about the country he was from and the fact that there was an entire village there dying from the same symptoms my father had suffered from. At this point, the fact that this man appeared from nowhere with information he should not have seemed lost on me. He gave detailed descriptions of the suffering and the
RUNNING HEAD: SHORT STORY 5 numbers who were affected by it. While sitting there I became frightened and excited at the same time, that roller coaster ride kind of feeling. You love the ride but fear that first drop more than anything. I kindly explained to him that it was impossible for that many people to suffer from this syndrome due to the rarity. When he finally finished his speech I sensed a request coming my way. “Dr. Trent, we need your help” the stranger finally pleaded. Why couldn’t this be like the picturesque morning I had encountered, just whistle a tune and the bad will all fly away with the dark clouds? “I’m sorry” I stated meekly “I don’t believe there is anything I can do to help.” The stranger lowered his head and started to shuffle off, “if you change your mind, here is my number.” As quickly as he had appeared, he was gone. Over the next few days I tried to forget the encounter. As his nephew was discharged, I hid as much as I could to avoid running into the man again. What did he think I could do? I don’t have the answers. Allan Johnson had been my mentor from the day I stepped foot in this department. He reminded me of my father, his strength of character and comforting approach. I had the sense that he took me under his wing because he sensed the fact that I missed having my Dad around. He had called a couple of days ago and asked to have lunch. As we enjoyed the latest the cafeteria had to offer he stopped abruptly and asked “What is wrong with you?” I denied there was any issue until he persisted. I went on to explain my experience with the odd man and his request for my help. I valued Allan’s opinion, always had. We talked for hours about the pros and cons of such a trip and why it might be best if I went to see for myself what was going on. He went on to explain that he had made a trip like the one I was fearful of. His story was one of travel, adventure and self discovery, all the things this little Snow White did not want to encounter. Comfort, comfort I thought, where is the comfort in a trip like this. As the
RUNNING HEAD: SHORT STORY 6 conversation seemed to be coming to a close he stated “I’ll come with you!” With those four words he calmed my fears, somewhat. The day of the trip had arrived and I could not be more nervous. I had never traveled, never felt the need. My helping those in my community was enough for me, why was charity necessary? As the plane pulled away from my cottage on the shore, I imagined the seven dwarfs anxiously awaiting my return. As I allowed myself to daydream about my return home, I barely noticed the man across the aisle from me. I had wondered why I had never heard of this small island. It was now apparent to me that no one has ever heard of this place. It was primitive, dirty, small and way outside my box. As soon as my feet hit the ground I was counting down the days until I could go home. What was that awful sense that I was being watched all about? I must need sleep and a clean bed, that wasn’t going to happen here I was certain. The stranger appeared just has he had that day in my hospital. Was he still wearing that same suit? Oh well, not my problem. Show me the sick people and let’s get this ball rolling. As we traveled to the small village I began to think about all the things I had not seen in my life. The only time I had seen places like this was on television or in movies. Flashes of Gilligan’s Island were going through my head. The thought “I’d make a great MaryAnn” flashed through my head. I was so busy with school, my father dying and working that I had the chance to travel. Perhaps my life had become a disease in itself that I needed to be cured of. We arrived at the hospital, I use the term loosely, and another jeep pulled in behind ours. Was that the man from the plane? Why would he be here of all places. As he walked toward us he introduced himself as Cortez Alaway, the local doctor. He led us into the hospital and gave us the ten second tour. RUNNING HEAD: SHORT STORY 7 Everywhere I looked, there were sick children and adults. How had this happened? Why are they dying in such great numbers? Dr. Alaway explained that he had brought another doctor in to try and help his patients but that doctor had contracted the local flu and died while traveling there, died? He avoided my look of fear and kept on talking. He went on to explain that they have done all they can. There resources are limited and people are dying faster than they can help them. While talking with a few patients I turned and ask Dr.Alaway what the industry was here. Have you ever been in one of those situations where it was so quite you could hear a pin drop? This was one of those. My friend the stranger stepped in and said “Exotic plants.” As that seemed reasonable and the subject appeared to touch a nerve, I did not ask any more questions. My head was spinning the next morning after breakfast. I was certain it was my fear and perhaps some bad water that was causing the dizziness. The last thing I remember is the stranger staring at me with fear on his face. Two days later I awoke in their make shift hospital asking all kinds of questions. Apparently I had passed out and had been brought there for treatment. Dr. Alaway was insisting that we should leave as soon as possible as we may be affected by the same disorder the locals were suffering from. Allan had also fallen ill but had been released the day before me. Something was pulling me to stay even though common sense said it would be best if we left. My intuition was telling me that there was more to be learned here. Deciding to stay gave me an energy that I had never felt before. Fearful that something I ate or drank may have caused my hospital stay; I watched everything closely as it was prepared. This observation led to my noticing a few key things about this island and the way things were done. Nothing on this island seemed to go on without Dr. Alaway’s say so. I decided that I needed to visit his office one day to get a handle on the economy and industry here. My hope was that it would lead me to some answers about the illness that was plaguing these people.
RUNNING HEAD: SHORT STORY 8 Dr. Alaway looked less than pleased to see me. On any other day this type of attitude might have put me off, today it only made me more determined. Every question I asked seemed to be blocked by a less than honest answer. While the industry of growing and shipping exotic plants seemed innocent enough, something else was going on here. Dr. Alaway seemed as though he could not get rid of me fast enough. After my conversation with him I decided it was time to speak with my friend who had started this all, Allan. Something needed to be done and I was the person to get it started. Weeks were spent sending blood work to the main hospitals and examining the locals. Though most of them appeared fearful to talk with us, they were learning to trust us and were hopeful we were going to find out what was killing their friends and family. Allan and I spent many days collecting local plant growth as well and testing it. Early one morning I was called to the hospital to see a man who was dying. As I sat with him and tried to determine exactly what was going on he started to whisper something to me. He was very weak and it was hard for him to speak but he whispered “It’s not the plants” as he took his last breath. What did that mean? Did he know that I suspected the local plant growth of causing this illness? Though it looked as though they were all suffering from the same disease that killed my father, their symptoms were off just enough to make me wonder. When my test results started to come back from the main hospital things became clear. For some odd reason, someone was poisoning these people! Why would someone want to do that? Was this what made me sick? Why didn’t I get worse or even die? I needed answers to these questions and quickly. Once again I met with Dr. Alaway. This meeting was not going well. As I brought up my suspicions and asked for his help, he became irate. “This is my island and I

RUNNING HEAD: SHORT STORY 9 need you and your people to leave now!” he shouted. I asked why he had brought me here in the first place if he did not want my help. “This was not my idea!” he shouted even louder. “He is making these people sick!” I belted out to Allan and the stranger. The stranger took a deep breath and said “finally, an answer.” I contacted the hospital and asked exactly what they had given me when I fell ill. They described a drug I had never heard of. One of the nurses explained that it was experimental and that Dr. Alaway was in charge of all the studies. This new medicine was designed to protect those who had been poisoned with some sort of chemical attack that might take place. Finally, the answers to all this were falling into place. It was time to gather all my results and confront Dr. Alaway with the help of some law enforcement from the mainland. With evidence in hand, Allan, the stranger and I made our way to Dr. Alaways office. We layed out all the evidence that he had been poisoning these people to test his new drugs. Some he would save to see if his antidote worked. He admitted that he was selling all of this information to a company on the mainland. There idea was to use these people as guinea pigs due to the fact that no one would know or care about them dying. He was headed to jail and it looked like we were headed home once we shared the cure with those who were ill. The return trip home was bittersweet. I had experienced more on that trip than anything else in life I had been through. I was coming home with a new medicine to help those who fell ill from chemical poisoning and a new outlook on my Snow White life. It was time for me to step outside my box and look for more opportunities to help those who can’t help themselves. That is, after all, how I ended up here in the first place.