Medicine Man

Something akin to sympathy rises in me.

For the enemy. First, I struggle with hating him and now, I’m sympathetic.

What is happening to me?

Maybe because I know what it feels like when every eye is on you. I’ve felt it not very long ago. I know what it feels like when every eye turns into a microscope, inflating you and your flaws. Every eye tries to see your cracks.

I know.

I feel like I want to claw at those eyes. Claw at those faces. Scream and kick and thunder.

But Dr. Blackwood appears cool. Extremely cool, in fact.

Nothing on his expression suggests that he even knows about the attention he commands or the sudden increase in the chatter. The scattered staff around the room has become more attentive, though.

“Good afternoon, everyone.” His voice rises above the din, crisp and loud, as he stands in the middle of the room. “I hope you’re having a pleasant day so far. Some of you’ll be seeing me in my office later today, so please don’t let me keep you from enjoying the delicious lunch. As much as I love the attention, we don’t want to offend the cooks.”

With that, he strides over to where Beth’s watching him with a motherly smile, shaking her head. There’s no other option but to watch him after he handled that so smoothly.

Again, I can’t help but think this man knows stuff. He knows how to handle being under scrutiny.

I watch him lower his head to listen to what Beth’s saying. He has his large hand on her lower back as he gives her his full attention.

Penny chides us to stop staring, and normally I would take her advice because I hate getting stared at myself. But I can’t stop.

There’s something about him that compels me to look.

And then Josie joins their group, and I wouldn’t be able to tear my gaze away even if I wanted to.

She stands beside Dr. Blackwood, almost coming up to his ears, as he turns to include her. Which is so atypical of what I’ve seen from him.

But what do I know? I’ve only known him for a few days.

A couple of seconds into the conversation, Josie cracks up at something he says, her blonde hair swaying with her laughter. I watch for his reaction. I watch to see if he’s laughing.

He’s not.

He’s smiling though. And in all the time that I’ve known him, this is the biggest he’s smiled.

I turn away abruptly and focus on my lunch. It’s none of my business how close he was standing to Josie or how big he was smiling.

We eat in silence – as much silence as you can get here – until there’s a crash at the far end of the room. It’s Annie– Angry Annie – who lives a few doors down and is prone to nightmares. From what I hear, she is known for being a little aggressive.

She’s thrown her tray full of food on the floor and is standing, her dark hair tumbling out of her bun.

“I don’t wanna eat this fucking food,” she declares angrily. “It’s fucking disgusting. Makes me wanna kill myself. And I don’t want the shiny hotshot doctor either. I want Dr. Martin.”

She takes a few steps to her right, but instantly a nurse is on her, trying to calm her down.

“No, don’t you come near me. Don’t touch me.” She’s flailing her arms at the nurse, and now techs are on her too, circling around her.

“Keep your filthy hands off me, you animals. I hate you. I fucking hate you all! I don’t wanna be here. I don’t fucking wanna be here. You killed him, didn’t you? You killed Dr. Martin? Like they killed my daddy. You fucking killed him!”

Her fists are shaking and they almost catch one of the techs on his jaw. In the next second, two of them grab her hands, making her thrash against their hold, making her scream.

It’s creating a sense of paranoia in the room. People are getting upset, as if waking up from sleep. Looking at their food, at each other. At Angry Annie.

“You killed my daddy. You killed Dr. Martin!” She’s sobbing and something clenches in my heart. A tight vise.

Her screams are causing a rush in my blood, a click in my ears. Her jerks, the shakes of her head, her rending voice – everything about her agitated state is getting to me.

This is the very first time I’ve seen Angry Annie in action. In fact, in my two weeks of being here, this is the very first time I’ve seen any kind of meltdown, where this manner of assistance is required. Usually, it’s empty threats and what now looks like playful jabbing.

For a few seconds, I’m thrown back to the hospital room where I woke up after The Roof Incident. The panic. The weight of what happened.