hyperventilate. Perhaps fighting over who got the last corncob pipe had led to a few bloody brawls.
Or perhaps the town drunk came by to sleep it off.
Jess had to admit that last scenario had a certain appeal. She had been here all of one night and was already feeling a little rough around the edges. She had been sure she would be able to get something when she got here, but her search of the Main Street shops had yielded zilch.
She should have googled ‘dry counties in Ohio’ before she left.
Speaking of thirst, something else caught her wandering eye. At the end of the long room next to the last cot stood cases of bottled water stacked to the ceiling. Either Willow Tree was hosting the world’s largest marathon, or this clinic doubled as a survivalist shelter.
This town was full of questions, but as of yet, no answers.
Jess had been unable to locate the town bartender, but it occurred to her that the town physician ought to know a thing or two about the goings on in Willow Tree. As she prepared to dip into her journalist’s bag of Jedi mind tricks, a pair of framed diplomas above the doctor’s desk caught her eye.
One was the standard sheepskin documenting Paula Crispin’s graduation from medical school. Jess didn't recognize the university; but that was no surprise. A person could practically become an astronaut online these days, and colleges were crawling out of the woodwork.
The other diploma was the one she found interesting.
“You’ve got a PhD in Botany ?”
The doctor, seemingly caught off guard by the question, dropped the syringe before she could pierce the vial of Tetanus vaccine booster. Grumbling, she reached down to retrieve the needle.
“Ow! Shit!” she exclaimed, popping up and holding her pricked finger.
“Oh, I’m sorry! My bad!” pleaded a remorseful Jess, reaching out. “I didn't see you doing that!”
The doctor’s gruff interior was on the verge of coming out, and Jess braced herself for a beat down. But, after a moment, the physician’s withering glare turned back to the tiny drop of blood squeezing through the latex glove. She snapped the glove off her hand and tossed it into a red receptacle on the wall labeled ‘Bio-Hazardous Materials’.
“It’s just my stupid clumsiness,” she admitted, dabbing at her finger with a piece of gauze. “Sorry if I frightened you. I don’t usually attack my patients until their second visit.”
She searched the drawers for a band-aid while she managed a smile. It didn’t quite suit her. For some reason, Jess would have preferred to talk to the doctor who had almost come out.
She smiled in return, but in the moment when the doctor had ripped off her glove, Jess had seen the dark, thick veins running up her wrist and disappearing under her sleeve. Her journalistic nose was twitching. How many stories could she write about this town? She had to remind herself that this was not why she had come here. She looked away and back to the diplomas.
“I was just admiring your degrees. Medical Doctor and Botanist. Quite the blend.”
“Well, the MD thing is more of an honorary title,” she quipped.
Jess looked down at the Frankenstein stitches on her finger, and her stomach turned a little.
“Just kidding,” the doctor assured her. “My sense of humor is an acquired taste.”
“But, what’s with the Botany degree? You grow the biggest watermelon in Jackson county?”
Busy trying to stuff her newly bandaged finger into a new surgical glove, she paused, glancing down at the floor beneath them.
“Well … we grow the biggest something.”
The doctor went back to preparing a new syringe with a Tetanus booster. Jess was fixated on that last comment, because she had seen something big in this town.
“It’s that tree, isn’t it? The giant willow in the cemetery.”
Like a tour guide, the doctor recited it from memory.
“The tree is over one hundred and fifty years old. That is old, even for a willow. She soars over seventy
Or perhaps the town drunk came by to sleep it off.
Jess had to admit that last scenario had a certain appeal. She had been here all of one night and was already feeling a little rough around the edges. She had been sure she would be able to get something when she got here, but her search of the Main Street shops had yielded zilch.
She should have googled ‘dry counties in Ohio’ before she left.
Speaking of thirst, something else caught her wandering eye. At the end of the long room next to the last cot stood cases of bottled water stacked to the ceiling. Either Willow Tree was hosting the world’s largest marathon, or this clinic doubled as a survivalist shelter.
This town was full of questions, but as of yet, no answers.
Jess had been unable to locate the town bartender, but it occurred to her that the town physician ought to know a thing or two about the goings on in Willow Tree. As she prepared to dip into her journalist’s bag of Jedi mind tricks, a pair of framed diplomas above the doctor’s desk caught her eye.
One was the standard sheepskin documenting Paula Crispin’s graduation from medical school. Jess didn't recognize the university; but that was no surprise. A person could practically become an astronaut online these days, and colleges were crawling out of the woodwork.
The other diploma was the one she found interesting.
“You’ve got a PhD in Botany ?”
The doctor, seemingly caught off guard by the question, dropped the syringe before she could pierce the vial of Tetanus vaccine booster. Grumbling, she reached down to retrieve the needle.
“Ow! Shit!” she exclaimed, popping up and holding her pricked finger.
“Oh, I’m sorry! My bad!” pleaded a remorseful Jess, reaching out. “I didn't see you doing that!”
The doctor’s gruff interior was on the verge of coming out, and Jess braced herself for a beat down. But, after a moment, the physician’s withering glare turned back to the tiny drop of blood squeezing through the latex glove. She snapped the glove off her hand and tossed it into a red receptacle on the wall labeled ‘Bio-Hazardous Materials’.
“It’s just my stupid clumsiness,” she admitted, dabbing at her finger with a piece of gauze. “Sorry if I frightened you. I don’t usually attack my patients until their second visit.”
She searched the drawers for a band-aid while she managed a smile. It didn’t quite suit her. For some reason, Jess would have preferred to talk to the doctor who had almost come out.
She smiled in return, but in the moment when the doctor had ripped off her glove, Jess had seen the dark, thick veins running up her wrist and disappearing under her sleeve. Her journalistic nose was twitching. How many stories could she write about this town? She had to remind herself that this was not why she had come here. She looked away and back to the diplomas.
“I was just admiring your degrees. Medical Doctor and Botanist. Quite the blend.”
“Well, the MD thing is more of an honorary title,” she quipped.
Jess looked down at the Frankenstein stitches on her finger, and her stomach turned a little.
“Just kidding,” the doctor assured her. “My sense of humor is an acquired taste.”
“But, what’s with the Botany degree? You grow the biggest watermelon in Jackson county?”
Busy trying to stuff her newly bandaged finger into a new surgical glove, she paused, glancing down at the floor beneath them.
“Well … we grow the biggest something.”
The doctor went back to preparing a new syringe with a Tetanus booster. Jess was fixated on that last comment, because she had seen something big in this town.
“It’s that tree, isn’t it? The giant willow in the cemetery.”
Like a tour guide, the doctor recited it from memory.
“The tree is over one hundred and fifty years old. That is old, even for a willow. She soars over seventy
Similar Books
