37. Emory #2
Dr. Cuss gave a sincere smile, completely devoid of professional falsity.
“I paid for it. The practice on the mainland allowed me to do so, and then over the years when I hired other doctors to work with me, I started doing more days as the primary physician out here. At first, it was an excuse to fly my plane during the week, but eventually, it was because I knew how valued I was here, and I could see the difference I was making in people’s lives. ”
“That must’ve been nice.” Emory longed for that kind of success and community. He sensed he could find it on Iping, if the residents could look past his misdeeds.
“Extremely. So you see, there may come a time when a researcher with your talents comes to the same or a similar conclusion as you have, and they may very well become renowned and go on to win all the awards you dreamed of,” he said.
“Now’s the time to ask yourself, Did you study medicine for the glory or to help people? ”
Without thinking, Emory said, “To help people.”
“Good man. Your ethics will guide you to the right decision.” He slowly stood. His knees cracked a bit. “I won’t take up any more of your time. It was a pleasure to meet you, and I do hope you’ll consider staying on Iping.”
“Good meeting you, too,” Emory said. “Though you might be the only person hoping that.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Dr. Cuss said, before bidding him farewell.
Still processing all Dr. Cuss had said and staring down at his returned research, Emory only half registered someone else entering the room.
Then, he smelled Gerard’s familiar scent—that alluring mix of grapefruit and aloe.
Emory’s heart sang when he looked up and saw the musician, who appeared a little rumpled with drowsiness.
Hair a tangled mess of waves. Eyes bloodshot, but not from crying.
Gerard rushed toward him, but the sergeant intercepted the attempt.
“No touchin’. Them’s the rules.” He pointed at the chair for Gerard to sit.
Before he left, Sergeant Adye reminded them there were cameras in the corners. As if they were going to somehow rip each other’s clothes off with the powers of the mind.
Now there was an idea for Emory’s next experiment …
“Em,” Gerard breathed when they had the room to themselves. “Did you get any sleep in here?” His hazel eyes flicked around the poorly lit space. The ceiling was low, the walls were close, and the toilet was in plain sight. It sure was no five-star hotel.
“I slept well, actually,” Emory confessed. The night’s activities had drained him of energy, and while he didn’t love the itchy feel of the jail uniform, the dry T-shirt, pants, and regulation underwear were better than the still-damp costume he’d arrived in.
Surprise stamped Gerard’s face. “Oh, that’s good. I barely closed my eyes. The storm did a number on the island, and I was too worried about you. The bed was so cold without you in it.”
Emory let the softest of smiles stretch across his face. “I missed you beside me, of course. I think having confessed everything—everything that had been weighing on me—I was just an overused sponge finally wrung out and set on the counter.”
“I understand,” Gerard said. “It’s still so strange to be able to see you. And of course, now I can see you but I can’t touch you. The unfairness of life.”
“Tell me about it.” He sighed. “There’s not even a mirror in here. I must look a mess. Last night, as soon as I saw my face again, it was like looking at my mother’s ghost. I pinpointed all the features she’d given me.”
Gerard beamed at him. “They’re good features.”
Emory cracked a watery laugh. “Was everyone mad, after I left?”
“I wouldn’t say mad,” Gerard relayed. “Surprised, for sure. Today, I think the islanders are more concerned about the storm damage than the invisible prankster.”
“Is that what they’re calling me?” he asked.
“The invisible prankster, the invisible joker, the invisible jester—”
“Okay, I get the picture.”
“I think…” Gerard visibly considered his words.
“I think they’re all saying it with fondness.
Ribbing you, the way you would someone you cared about.
There was a lot of laughter last night after you left.
I don’t know; I could be wrong. Regardless, I have to say you inspired me.
What you did last night—it took a lot of guts. ”
“I only did what I knew was right,” Emory said. He didn’t want his reputation among these folks to be one of meanness and darkness. In his heart, he hoped for a second chance.
“Sometimes the right thing to do is the scariest thing of all,” said Gerard, a contemplative expression falling over his face.
Sergeant Adye appeared then and said they’d need to wrap up their visit because he had patrol to do.
“This should all be sorted soon,” Gerard said. “You have a right to a speedy trial. They can only hold you here for a maximum of seventy-two hours, right?” Gerard’s hopeful eyes swung to Sergeant Adye as he stood.
“That’s right.” He, too, seemed hopeful. But why?
“Until then, I’ll come back to see you as much as I can. I promise.” Gerard spotted the cage with Marvel Jr. on the desk and walked over to it. “Who is this?”
“Marvel Jr. finally returned,” Emory said. “Would you take him back to the apartment with you? He’s easy to care for.”
Gerard crouched down so that he was eye level with the mouse. “Hello there, Marvel Jr. It’s nice to meet you. I’m going to be mouse-sitting you until your dad comes home. Will that be okay with you?”
Smart as ever, Marvel Jr. let out a squeak that sounded gleeful. Gerard widened his eyes back at Emory, who pressed his face between the cold metal bars, cheeks smushing up against them in an untamable smile. “He likes you,” Emory said. “And I love you.”
Gerard picked up the cage. “I love you, too.”