Chapter 11 #2
“I’m sure it was.” Carrie reached over and took hold of Spencer’s hand. “I’m sorry you had to face it alone.”
“My faith grew during that time.” He drew her hand to his lips and placed a kiss on her knuckles. Spencer didn’t know what had prompted him to this action, but Carrie seemed unconcerned. “I learned to talk to God more. I prayed all the time and found great comfort in that.”
“Prayer has gotten me through many rough patches. I suppose given all that has happened to you, my feelings of void and loss seem silly.”
“Why should they? You lost a mother and father just as I did.”
“Yes, but my sister and her husband stepped into the role so neatly that I didn’t really suffer much. After all, I was just a babe.”
“And you think that babies don’t suffer loss?”
Carrie’s brow furrowed. “You know, that poses an interesting line of thought, especially given my studies on the brain. I do believe infants can suffer from the loss of their parents. I don’t think much has been done on this line of study, however.”
“Maybe it will be another area where you’ll excel and bring great results.
The losses you’ve known have obviously had a profound effect on your life, despite having been nurtured and cared for by loving substitutes.
If you were to find a way to help others with the void that is created in that loss, it might very well change the world as we know it. ”
“I suppose it might at that. If people could learn to manage the emptiness left by the loss of another person, especially at a young age, it would alter their behavior and, in doing so, alter life choices. This is quite interesting to me.” She seemed momentarily lost in thought and for several minutes fell silent.
Spencer gazed into the fire and thought of how fascinating Carrie’s studies were. They certainly had the potential for helping people to overcome problems in their lives. Hers was a task that truly mattered.
Whereas mine is a self-focused drive to avenge my father’s death.
Spencer frowned. His entire life was wrapped up in that one goal. What would he do once he’d accomplished that task? He glanced over at his wife. She was everything he wanted in a mate. How could he ever walk away from her?
Eugene was glad to be home. His body was breaking down.
He could feel life slipping away from him bit by bit.
He had decided to see one more doctor in Kansas City and discuss options.
The physician had described his terrifying estimation of what Eugene’s death would be like.
The weakness, the loss of sight, possible loss of hearing as well.
The seizures that were sure to come and the eventual coma he’d slip into.
The doctor added to this that even in the coma, his pain would be tripled.
How he knew this, the doctor didn’t say.
He was, however, convinced that even in a comatose state, Eugene would still feel the intense pain.
“You won’t be able to do anything about it or ask for medication, of course,” the doctor had explained. “You’ll be unconscious, and most people will believe that you will be unable to feel anything. But that won’t be the situation.”
Eugene had asked how the doctor could be certain of this ending, and he had replied that years of experience had convinced him of the matter. The doctor’s last words of advice to Eugene still echoed in his thoughts.
“If I was faced with this knowledge, I would resolve the matter by taking charge and assigning my own end. I would never face such a death as I’ve described. I would take my life and avoid the misery.”
That idea haunted Eugene on the train ride home. Across the vast empty prairies of Kansas, he had contemplated the doctor’s words. It seemed more than reasonable. Who would choose a laborious, painful death if an easy one of peaceful, gentle passing could be had?
The small house was freezing after he had so long been absent.
Eugene continued his contemplation on what to do as he began to build a fire.
He opened the damper, then laid logs on the grate.
Next, he took up a few pieces of kindling and arranged those on the floor beneath the grate.
Leaving this, he went to a stack of newspapers that had collected in his absence.
He took one from the pile and pulled apart the sheets.
Just then his gaze fell upon the headline. LOCAL GIRL RETURNS TO CHEYENNE LAUDED PHYSICIAN.
Eugene scanned the article reading about Carrie Vogel-Duval, daughter of the chief of police.
She had been something of a scientific prodigy, concentrating her studies on injury and illness to the brain.
She was noted for her ability to seek alternative methods of healing and help, going beyond what other doctors would consider acceptable practice.
A woman physician. A very young woman who was able to look beyond the problem to all the possible solutions.
She wasn’t stymied by the normal routines of the day.
The smallest spark of hope ignited. Might it be possible that the help Eugene sought was right here in Cheyenne?
If he was already condemned to death, what possible problem could it be to seek out the young woman and get her opinion on his condition?
He smiled and carefully folded the paper and set it aside. Picking up another copy, Eugene crumpled up a page and went back to the fireplace to start his fire. For the first time since leaving Kansas City, he had a renewal of hope. Maybe Dr. Carrie Vogel-Duval would be his salvation.