The Doctor's Dilemma by Daly Walker

Author:Daly Walker
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grand Canyon Press

Jacob’s Wall

Deep in a hardwood forest in southern Indiana’s Brown County, big brown stones were piled and strewn on a grassy hillside like the dolmens of some ancient and unknown civilization. Swinging a mason’s hammer with crisp, rhythmic blows, an old doctor was shaping a chunk of stone for the wall he was building. When metal struck rock, sparks and chips flew into the air, and an anvil-like ringing resounded through the wooded valley below. From a pale sky, late summer sunshine splashed through the leaves of a nearby oak tree, dappling the ground with shadows and light. The sun’s rays were warm on his back but not too warm. Squirrels were putting on a high-wire act gathering acorns in the oak trees. Crows barked like dogs, and nuthatches and tufted titmice swooped down on the feeders that hung from the eaves of his log cabin. The doctor-turned-mason possessed a deep and abiding awareness of nature, but now he was so engrossed in rock and wall, he was oblivious to the inspiration that flowed from his surroundings. The scent of stone was in the air. Its earthy fragrance pleased him the way the scent of his wife Martha’s soap and shampoo had done, back when she was alive. While he worked, he hummed the tune of “How Great Thou Art,” a hymn played on the church organ at Martha’s funeral.

The doctor was Walter Roberts, a retired orthopedic surgeon who had set fractures and fused spines in Indianapolis before his retirement. Reddish rock-dust caked the white plumes of his eyebrows and overalls. Sweat had soaked his blue Colts baseball cap. To protect his eyes, he wore round tortoiseshell bifocals. He had chosen the scholarly glasses because James Joyce had done the same. The doctor admired Joyce’s writing, particularly the short stories of The Dubliners; but even the stream of consciousness and multilingual puns in Finnegan’s Wake spoke to him. He scored a fault line with his mason’s chisel, and the rock split clean, exactly where he’d wanted the break to occur. He smiled at the perfection of his effort the way he’d once smiled at the X-ray of a perfectly aligned Collie’s fracture of the wrist after he’d set the bone.

The screen door to his cabin banged shut, and a slim young woman with a dark complexion and short chestnut hair appeared at the porch railing. She wore a tank top and tight jeans that displayed what Walter considered an exceptionally fine ass. Her name was Becky. Merry Maids in Nashville had sent her to clean his cabin. The small, rustic dwelling didn’t require frequent cleaning, but Walter hired her to come once a week because her presence eased the loneliness of his monastic life.

Becky leaned over the railing “Hey, Doc,” she called. “You’re going to knock yourself out.” She spoke in a country Hoosier twang. “Don’t you think you could use some help with them big stones?”

He wanted to correct her English, but thought better of it.

“Sure,” he said. “Come on down.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.