Promises in Paradise. Sandra Kitt

Promises in Paradise - Sandra Kitt


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sent him off into another peel of uproarious laughter. Diane enjoyed his spirit. He was director of the community shelter for displaced families. She’d always been impressed not only by Ron’s advocacy on behalf of the homeless, but his amazing ability to get services and favors from the most unlikely places when most other people could not. She suspected that people were afraid of Ron Jeffrey because of his size and very commanding voice. She wouldn’t put it past him to exaggerate both if it got results for the shelter. Over time she’d come to know him as the gentlest of men, and a very savvy and smart one. He seemed to deliberately let his appearance belie the fact that he held a master’s degree in not-for-profit administration.

      Diane glanced around the office. “Is this the only private space?”

      He shook his head, pursing his lips. “No such thing as privacy in a place like this, I’m afraid.”

      “Then this is fine.”

      She opened the leather satchel she’d brought with her and began to remove equipment and instruments. Without a word Ron sprang up from his desk and left the office, closing the usually open door behind him.

      In just a few minutes he returned, escorting an older white woman into the office, offering Diane a quick introduction to Nan. He left, with a silent jerk of his head to indicate he’d be within shouting distance if she needed his help.

      The woman was mostly silent, asking no questions, offering no earlier information, sitting passively while Diane did a basic exam of her vital signs. She didn’t even seem particularly interested in what Diane was doing. Ron had informed her that the older woman recently seemed incoherent.

      Diane made quiet idle talk for reassurance to the woman who, she could well imagine, probably hadn’t seen a doctor in years. Two very simple little movements requested of the woman quickly confirmed her suspicions.

      “Okay, Nan, I think I’m done,” Diane said.

      “Can I…now?” the woman asked.

      “Give me a few more minutes.”

      The woman nodded, staring blankly into space.

      Diane managed to reach the door from her position behind it, and opened it to signal Ron, who stood talking with a resident near the reception desk.

      “How’s it going?” Ron asked.

      “I want to get her to the emergency room tonight for a more thorough exam.”

      “What’s up?”

      “I suspect a ministroke. There was at least one but there might have been more. I don’t think we should wait until the morning.”

      “No problem. I’ll have someone drive her over right now.”

      “Good.” Diane nodded briskly.

      She used Ron’s desk phone to call the hospital to alert them to Nan’s arrival and to give her authorization that she be seen immediately.

      “Come on, Nan. We’re going to take you for a little ride. Would you like that?” Ron asked.

      Her eyes briefly lit up and she nodded.

      “Before you go,” Diane said, retrieving something else from her bag. It was a small, flat, wrapped gift she held out to the woman. “Merry Christmas.”

      “Ooooh. Like. Thank…you.”

      She hugged the gift to her chest, smiling for the first time.

      Ron turned her by the shoulders to guide her from the office.

      “That was really cool of you to have something for Nan. She has no family, far as we know.”

      “It’s just a little thing. I had an extra gift after taking care of some of my staff. Where’s the boy?”

      “Look, you’re going to have to go to him.”

      Diane frowned. “Why?”

      “There’s a party goin’ on, and he’s not about to leave right now. We got Santa and everything.”

      Diane laughed in understanding. “Okay. Lead the way.”

      She took only her stethoscope with her as she followed Ron. There was music and a lot of loud conversation coming from a space at the end of a corridor. The noise from the other end only got louder as they approached. There was a room to the left that turned out to be the communal dining hall.

      At the back of the room, near the door, the adults stood or sat watching the excitement of perhaps fifty children and adolescents at the front of the room as they waited to meet with Santa Claus and receive a gift.

      Diane couldn’t help but smile at the cheerful chaos as kids roughhoused together, or shouted to be next, or played with gifts already opened, or sat staring dumbfounded at the man at the center of attention, Santa Claus.

      She began to chuckle when she realized he was the tallest, thinnest Santa she’d ever seen. Not that that mattered to the kids. He was seated in a chair raised on an improvised platform. For all their hardships and deprivations, the children clearly believed in this Santa who’d made a special trip from the North Pole just to see them.

      “That’s Qa’Shawn over there. The kid jumping up and down. I told him not to do that,” Ron said, worried.

      “That’s actually a good sign.”

      “Well, let me go get him. I told him someone special wanted to meet him ‘cause he passed out yesterday. He thinks he did something special,” he said, bemused.

      Diane found a little spot by herself out of the way of the celebration. It was a moment before she became aware that Santa appeared to be sending covert glances at her. But then he went back to being jolly and attentive to the kids. They seemed to find it pretty cool that he was a black Santa behind the snow-white beard. He cast her another long look and then ignored her.

      “Qa’Shawn, this is Dr. Diane. I told you about her. Say hello.” Ron gave the youngster a light nudge.

      “Hello,” the boy murmured.

      He was maybe nine years old.

      “Hi, Qa’Shawn.” Diane smiled at him.

      “You a doctor for real?”

      “I am.” She held out her stethoscope. “See.”

      “I know what that is. You listen to a heart with that. Can I try it?”

      Diane placed the ear tips of the headset lightly into his ears and then put the diaphragm against the boy’s chest. After just a few seconds his eyes grew wide.

      “I hear noise in there. Is that my heart?”

      “Hope so,” Ron said. “If you don’t hear anything you’re in deep trouble.”

      But the boy was too fascinated with the sounds coming through the instrument to try and figure out Ron’s macabre joke.

      “Can I listen, too?” Diane asked.

      Qa’Shawn relinguished the headset to her. Diane put it to her own ears and listened, using the tunable diaphragm to make adjustments. After a minute Diane removed the headset, looping the stethoscope around her neck. She grinned at Qa’Shawn. “Sounds like a lot of rushing water to me.”

      The boy laughed but was already getting antsy to get away.

      “I don’t want to keep you from Santa. Nice meeting you, Qa’Shawn.”

      He shouted goodbye and took off like a shot.

      “Well?” Ron asked in a quiet voice.

      “I hear a murmur. Could mean his heartbeat’s a little irregular. It’s not unusual and it’s not normally dangerous, but I’d like to see Qa’Shawn at the hospital.”

      Ron frowned. “Not tonight.”

      “No,


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