Or3

By clifford roberts

Enter a world where the well-to-do can buy anything...an unscrupulous doctor...and young vibrant patients mysteriously dying and you have entered OR3. You can only leave OR3 one way. Stone-cold dead.

• Language: English
• Publisher: clifford roberts
• Release date: Oct 9, 2015
• ISBN: 9781508560012

clifford roberts

Clifford Roberts started writing in the Army, submitting poems and short stories to Reader’s Digest and other magazines. He later attended Farmingdale University, Bluefield State College, and USI Computer School. Shortly, he joined Newsday as a manager. He later became a Real Estate Investor and home restoration specialist. He now writes full time and play piano for R&R.

Book preview

Chapter 1

THE WIND WAS BLOWING A COOL BREEZE through the chestnut saplings planted out front of Mercy Hospital, East Hillsdale, New York, a town said to be an exceptionally good place to live, and touted to be civilized with rural splendor never more than a couple of miles away. Other than Middlebury, Vermont, Lancaster, Pa, Middletown, CT., and Waterville, Me., some idealist had also claimed that it was one of the top twenty towns.

Coughing gently as he enjoyed the breeze, Doctor Jarrett McIntyre, a man of scientific bent; a man knighted by Queen Elizabeth for his outstanding work in the field of Medicine, and a man some claimed there was a school at Oxford name on it, leaned against the wall puffing on a cigarette. All that was his front card. The truth was he was a doctor fleeing from a terrible past. The fact of the matter was that he had been drummed out of the profession for bungling an operation while he was drunk. Fortunate for him, once his father found out, although livid in desperation from wanting his son to succeed, his father had called in a few chips and had his son’s records altered. His father had told him about what had been done and advised him to keep a tight lip, and that in time the matter would be forgotten. So far, his father had been right.

As he blew a plumb of smoke out through his nostrils, his thoughts were about being on vacation in the mountains, where there was no rush or razzle-dazzle of contemporary life.

A split second later, he glanced at the spindly stem bearing just a small handful of twigs and leaves that seemed entirely too big for such a small plant, which he knew was a species all but eliminated from the continent during the past century.

He was no plant lover, but took a likening to the lean sapling since it was planted at the Hospital over two years prior. He still remembered having a stimulating conversation with Doctor Harriet Tate, a former colleague that worked for the America Chestnut Foundation.

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These are such beautiful trees, said Doctor Tate.

That they are, Harriett, said McIntyre, smiling at her, shaking his head in agreement. 

Harriet smiled and supplied dramatically for him, "Some people don’t realize that until the early 20thcentury, the American Chest was one of the most abundant trees in Eastern North America, often growing ninety to one hundred feet tall and more than eight to ten feet in diameter.

Really, said Mcintyre, showing interest. He had a high regard for her expertise and respected her equally.

Harriet went on further to say, And I’m sure many don’t know that Chestnut trees were used to build homes and the wood was used for products ranging from light furniture to caskets, earning it the nickname cradle-to-grave tree."

From cradle-to-grave, repeated Mcintyre, metaphorical indeed. He chuckled. How ‘bout that.

Yes, that’s right; metaphorical in that sense and might I add, apropos. The chestnut's warm coloring made it a popular interior wood and the protein-rich nuts were roasted or ground into flour for baking. Around 1906, a foreign fungus called chestnut blight was introduced in New York and quickly spread throughout the country, virtually eliminating adult chestnuts by the 1950’s. What we mainly want to focus on now is the regrowth of Chestnut.

He patted her hand. I have every confidence you will put forth your every effort toward making that happen.

Mcintyre’s revelry was broken by the sound of an ambulance as it turned the corner and raced toward the emergency entrance before stopping. Two EMS aids got out the front of the vehicle, went round to the back, and then opened the rear doors.

Gingerly, they removed the patient and then pushed the patient through the double doors to the Emergency Room Section. McIntyre dropped the cigarette to the ground, stepped on it and followed them inside, thanking them and telling them, I’ll take things from here, gentlemen. The two men bowed their heads and then left the hospital.

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As soon as the men left, he grew serious and went and got a serum vial and loaded the needle up with serum, and then walked back over to where the patient was.

Hi there, he said to the patient in a raspy voice, looking down at her with a sinister look on his face. Haven’t we met before?

She shook her head. No, I don’t think we have.

He pressed on. Why, I think so. I remember you and a male friend named, I believe Charlie was his name at my house party earlier.

She looked at him with a puzzled look. She was not sure what he was trying to get at. His face looked familiar. They could have met before. Considering her splitting headache, it could have been at a party, but right now, she was having a difficult time remembering much of anything.

He snapped his fingers. "Why, sure, my assistant Curtis told me that you

me that you overheard me talking to a close confidant, a rather good sounding board at that I might add, about the arrangements I have with some funeral homes to cremate body parts and send the ashes to a firm overseas that extracts the carbon from the ashes, then compresses the carbon until it becomes a diamond, all done without the relatives permission. I honestly don’t see anything wrong with that idea, considering diamonds are a girl’s best friends. Think of the possibilities. An afterlife as a gem has a certain clarity, not to mention incarnate finality."

He flashed a wicked smile. And furthermore, I don’t like people snooping around in my business. And to add insult to Injury, if memory serves me right, you were the one who cussed me out and accused me of getting fresh with you when all the While the real truth of it was that you were coming on to me but didn't want your friend Charlie to know that you had.

As he held her gaze, she muttered and put her hand to her mouth, fear growing in her eyes moment by moment.

Ah, I see it’s all coming back now. You do remember, and that’s good. Perhaps, we can get more acquainted now that your friend is not here.

o.R.3

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No, she said, barely audible in a low tone. She glanced about, nervous now. Isn’t there any other doctor that can help me other than you, she asked, wishing a huge gust-of wind would come along and take him with it and remove him from her sight. It made her skin crawl just to look at him, and was now causing the pain to become more intense.

No problem, he said, to forgive is divine. Isn’t that the way things ought to be? Let bygone be bygones? After all, we live in a civilized society: no longer with the ape mentality, but the intelligent human species of humanity. On the other hand, perhaps, should I have said womankind also? My swift apology. 

He held the hypodermic needle in his hand and approached Jane, licking his top lip with his tongue.

Without changing his expression, he said, you can trust me... holding her arm in a vice-like grip, piercing her-skin in one swift motion, as she tried desperately to pull her arm from his grasp.

No, no, she protested. If you know who I am why are you treating me this way. Why don’t you stop?"

Damn, he cursed. I missed the vein He cursed again and chucked his tongue. Have to do it again, His eyes looked deeply into hers. You heard me, I told you can trust me, he repeated. He poked her with his finger. Hang with me. I promise you won’t regret it.

Please stop, she pleaded, then squirmed, fidgeting slightly uneasy, as the fear in her voice intensified causing her thoughts to become murky. Her drunken stupor and apprehension made her uneasy.

He looked deep into her eyes as she squirmed again, Hold still, he snapped with fire-breathing intimidation, his cold-hearted words, blasting aloud as if she was his very own sounding board, snapping hard at her, rankling, and causing her face to crunch up with a sore look, as his hand steadily pushed the sharp needle into her skin again, without one ounce of compassion on his face.

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I’m gonna have to ask you to please stop fidgeting, Miss Palmer. I’ll have you to know, over a course of many years I’ve given shots to many patients and never looked for nary a person to give me one pat on the back."

A pat on the back? she exclaimed, I daresay anyone in their right mind should pat you on the back. You're one pathetic excuse for a doctor. Do you actually think I would thank you for handling me in such a miserable fashion?

He paused a moment and looked at her. Ah, don't mention it. He moved closer to her, breathing his breath on her face. I’m short on fresh patience. Now be a sweet darling and stop struggling, or I just might have to eject you with more serum, he grumbled.

Got it, he said almost excited. Now lie still. The shot of serum won’t take much longer before it takes affect and is absorbed into your bloodstream. So stop the feistiness and come to grips with your fate.

His hard, arrogant, words bit into her. You must be touched in the head, she said, or plumb off your rocker. Her breath caught in her throat. Go find yourself another Guinea pig.

She jerked, trying to yank her arm free. Please let me go. I won’t sit in judgment. I won’t speak of what you tried to do to me, or the brutal tone that you talked to me in. Not to anyone. Just let me go. I beg of you. My lips are sealed, she cried, and then grew silent and smiled less. Forlorn and shaking—she thought what a fool she was for having gone to the party.

Licking his lips with his tongue as it darted out and then retracted, her fears gave him an inkling of smug satisfaction. She was becoming weak and less responsive.

She mumbled the words, What are you doing? She saw the disgusted look he gave her. She knew the way he was treating her was not right. No doctor in his right mind would treat her in such a fashion. She didn’t like that evil look he was giving her. What else he had in mind she did not know, and not knowing worried the hell out of her.

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When one is helpless, it can be bad not knowing what is going to happen next. That fact was now cemented in her mind.

Oh, please, please stop, she uttered, whimpering and bleating, the sounds crossing between the natural cry of a sheep and a goat ringing in her ears, the effect of the serum now rendering her unable to pluck up courage to fight back. As she wiped at the tears staining her white skin, her pleas fell on a deaf ear, her body emotionally and supinely stunned. Please doctor. I want my sister Marge here.

He laughed, annoying her, beseeching. Not now. There isn't time for that now, my dear. Your sister will be notified. For now, however, it's best you relax. Now, I won’t lie to you...you may feel a bit discomforted, but as I said before, I assure you, you’re in good hands.

He grinned. I’ve performed the operational procedure many times over and haven’t failed yet.

She tried to move, but stopped struggling as the serum continued to spread throughout her body. Her vision now, gravel-blind, slowly faded, as her mind slipped slowly into oblivion.

Moments later, feeling helpless like an intoxicated idiot, she was surprised her sense of hearing was still intact. Many thoughts ran through her mind as she tried to put the pieces together and searched her mind for an answer to her difficulty and hinged on one-how could she let this happen?

Chapter 2

HOW COUlD SHE LET IT HAPPEN? Well....

What she failed to remember was, both she and her friend Charlie had attended a party given by Doctor Mclntyre, and were enjoying themselves throughout most of the night. Not only was her friend Charlie having fun flirting with some of the women; she was having fun being flirtatious with some of the men. Both had let their hair down and tipped back shot after shot, laughing in intervals between dancing and drinking.

They partied until around 12:30 a.m. The last she saw of Charlie, he was ducking out the back with a gorgeous red head on his arm. All she could do was smile, because she was also being naughty with some hunk of a muscle-bound guy she had never seen before. She did not give one stinking iota about whom he was exactly; all she wanted to do was have some fun.

As it grew later into the night, she got so plastered that the muscle-bound guy she was dancing with escorted her to the bathroom. Feeling sick to the stomach, she threw up in the commode and flushed the contents of her stomach away.

Collecting herself with her head clearer, she wound up going down on the Mr. Muscles guy who, oxymoronically, called himself Slim.

When they finished their love romp in the bathroom, Jane told him to tell her sister Marge she would be outside getting some air He laughed and told her to get some for him and then grabbed another woman and started dancing.

Still feeling foggy and heavy, Jane walked outside alone to clear her head, anything after that was wishy-washy, and that’s where the trail ended only to begin again, in the hospital, with Doctor Mclntyre standing over her in the emergency room, feeling helplessly alone.

Where is my friend Charlie? Her words were faint. "What did you do to him?

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Please answer me.

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She blinked her eyes as a sheet of memory in her troubled mind materialized with her mother’s, etched in it. Briskly shaking her head, she found it hard to believe the vision she was seeing with her watery eyes.

Jane blinked her eyes again, but found it saddening to see the specter of her mother was no longer there. Although she no longer could see the face of her mother, she was glad she was able to read her mother’s lips and understood to be beware of strangers. She sorely missed her mother and missed her advice equally.

She drew calm but still felt tense. Her mother had died a short died a short two months ago. She wished she had paid attention to her caution. Obviously, considering her present situation, her mom’s words had fallen on a deaf ear, and had fallen by the wayside.  Now it did not matter what her mother would have felt nor said, because she was dead and could help her powerless, toothless daughter.

She heard the doctor when he whispered softly, "Yes, it looks like the serum has worked more quickly than expected. He clapped his hands together. Come on my beauty, and let me have someone swish you off to the operating room.

She mumbled something

Hush now, I am well aware that you think I’m an egotist, but I can assure you know what I am talking about. There’s not one doctor on the planet that knows how to operate as well as me.  It’s sheer genius, I tell you. Most of the doctors today have water on the brain. None! None, I tell you, have come close to my expertise... and I doubt none ever will.

He stopped and took a deep breath. I’ll simply register your name under a Jane Doe and after the operation monitor your progress from time to time. Don’t fret my dear; all will be taken care of.

God almighty! She heard the scream in her head just as she heard the doctor as he schlepped, "slowly, tediously away, with a gimpy stride. As a door creaked open, she could hear another man’s voice, stranger still.

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The doctor’s awkward gait stopped.

So, doctor, where do you want her?

"Ahh yes, Curtis, I was getting ready to page you. He looked down at Curtis over the rims of his glasses, giving him a wink.

When Curtis didn't answer quickly enough, the doctor said, Have you smoked the same stuff that makes you silly at times, Curtis. or is it that you've suddenly come down with a grand mal epileptic fit that has stultified your sense of grasp? He saw the disappointing look on Curtis’ face and lowered his voice. "Look Curtis, I’m not sitting in judgment on your intellect, nor do I take pleasure in bossing you around. The fact remains, however, that I am the one in charge here and it’s my appointed duty to see that things are done right.

Curtis glanced back at him with a hard look. He was no schnook, he knew the routine, but wanted the doctor to think that he really needed him and hung onto his every word.

Curtis looked down at the woman's face with an appalled look on his face. The repugnancy of the thought of what the doctor had in mind to do to her, made him say, But she’s not—

Did I ask your opinion? the doctor said, coolly, giving him a mean eyed-determined look.

No, Curtis replied faintly, his eyebrows scrunched up.

Oh. and Curtis?

Yes.

Please, come to the party.

The party, asked Curtis.

Yes, yes the party that I am giving next weekend. The dog will meet you at the gate, barking, running stiff-legged circles.

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The doctor saw the wicked stare but let it slide like water off a ducks back, and said, Take the patient to OR 3, on four. Get her ready for operation. He shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t have a problem with the way he instructed and cared less about the way anyone felt.

The doctor smiled.

Right O, said Curtis. Looking forward to it, doctor. And, I’ll get right to taking care of the matter at hand. He kept his eyes on the doctor's back until he went into his office.

There came a momentary silence. Then Jane felt the cart moving as the noise of the wheels on the stretcher screeched. Just as the stretcher was pushed onto the elevator, the door closed.

Curtis started whistling a melody. She tried to move but found that her efforts were to no avail.

Lowering his face close to hers, he looked straight in her eyes. Her eyes started to tear. He clucked his tongue and said, Why, hello there sweetness, and then scrolled his eyes over her body, smiling as he did so. What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue. I must admit you are a quite a looker. It’s too bad I won’t be able to test you out before... He paused.

You shouldn’t have gone and got on the good doctor’s bad side. Now even the doctor doesn't want to screw you. All he wants to do is to be done with you.

He smacked his lips together and looked at her again. Damn, I wouldn't mind getting sloppy seconds even if that’s all that would be available to me. lwish you could be spared and placed in a bedroom, and knowing how randy I am, you can bet your booby I would make every effort to pay you a visit in the wee hours of the morning when most of the staff has |eft.

More tears, more mumbling, and then more tears, only the pleas were silent.

Ahhh, I’m making you cry. Sorry bout that. lt's just the way this sorry ass world we live in is, blinking an eye at her, hating her whining, falsely letting on that he empathized with what was happening to her. ln spite what was happening to her, he had to be honest with himself, he would also be afraid if someone was doing the same so wrong, so unjust, thing to him, Don’t you agree?

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I would venture to think, that if you were not helpless and that if you had a gun you would jump up off this cart and, he made a fist, and then straighten a forefinger from his knotted fist and cocked a thumb-trigger, bam.

Again, she tried to move or to speak; it was as if her tongue was no longer a part of her mouth. She could not feel it at all.

A cluster of frustration zipped through her. Feeling reamed, and dry-cleaned, she felt hurt with crushed emotions. She really went and done things this time and actually got egg on her face for not being cautious. What could she do, stay inside. Only go out to restock food supplies, not go out to the and not go to the beach. No one she knew stayed home all the time. After all, everyone she knew, knew that life would be simply pointless if they had to stay indoors all the time.

The elevator came to an abrupt halt. She felt the gut-feeling, causing her mental and emotional anguish. She then heard the door open as the gurney started to move again. A guttural sound began to articulate in her throat but the never left her lips.

Curtis started whistling again.

As her troubled eyes traveled over his face, she noticed his printed noise on his freckled face. She shifted her eyes to dark brown wavy hair and then glanced at his crisp white uniform.

Despite his appearance, she inferred he was not poor but the kind of person that lacked scruples, and was definitely the guttersnipe’s type, indeed the type that be in cahoots with doctor Mclntyre.

As the stretcher moved along the hallway, her stomach grew and then she felt a pang in her gut.

Curtis looked down at her and smiled and watched her head side to side.

Do you know what’s going to happen next? Looking down at her