For Want of a Doctor

“You’re probably wondering what I’ve been up to these last twenty years,” I say, thinking back to how my first conversation with Scarlet went. “I’ve been through a kind of hell that’s hard to put into words. I slogged through the crush of poverty, fought and lost against the demons inside of me, despaired in darkness for a decade… but now I’m back, stronger, ready to make something of my life again.

“In New York, I did many things. I worked as a handyman, a chef, a—”

I recite the script that I’ve committed to my memory, delivering my speech with a passion that I hope which, when paired with the Affection Multiplier, will sway Erin to my cause. But instead, she cuts me off.

“There’s no need to catch me up on your life,” she says, drumming her fingers on the countertop. “I’m fairly certain I know just as much about it as you do. You can spare me your tales of the bar fights and beer kegs and welfare checks, and get around to telling me why you’re here in Cambridge.”

Her eyes flick to the staircase that Genevieve went up a minute ago, and my eyes follow hers. There’s nobody there. Obviously, because Genevieve’s not a terrible person who would spy on her girlfriend or mistreat her— Oh.

“Let me try again,” I say, and Erin looks back at me, nodding. Her fingers are still restless on the table.

“I’m sorry about making Genevieve leave earlier,” I say, trying to sound sincere as I can, because truth be told—I do feel sorry. “She’s already done a ton for me, letting my stay at her place. She knows what she’s risking, and I know you both have important things to be doing so…”

My voice trails away as I’m not sure how to finish off the thought. Something of a smile plays across Erin’s lips.

“Still dodging the question, but better,” she says. Her hands finally come to a rest on the countertop. I let myself relax a little, but something still bothers me.

“How did you know?” I ask. “That I was in the Hyatt, here in Cambridge?”

“A lady doesn’t reveal her secrets,” Erin says, “but I’m not a lady. I guess, more than anything else, I’m my Father’s daughter.”

I try not to react, though fear surges through me in that instant. My hands tighten, I try to remember the exits out of this house that I’ve seen—

“That means I believe that you’re capable of working this one out for yourself, and so therefore, you should,” she says, seemingly oblivious to my panic. “Come on, Markus, you’re a smart one. How did I do it?”

I take a steadying breath, trying to focus on the question that she just posed, instead of the echoes of adrenaline still racing through my veins. How could she have known? I need to figure this out. If Erin could find out where I was, then probably Father could too; the analogy she drew was correct in more ways that just one…

“You have mobile phone data,” I say, “or, Genevieve does. And you would have found a new phone inhabiting my residence for a month or so before I made the move here… Shit, Father doesn’t have access to that, does he?”

“If he did, we wouldn’t have taken you here,” Erin says, “and you wouldn’t still have your phone on you.”

“Right,” I say, nodding, feeling a little more assured.

She waits a second for me to say something more, but I don’t know what else she’s looking for. I got it right, didn’t I?

“Well, good job, you almost got the answer. You’re just missing a little something. When I saw that phone popping up in that Hyatt, I wasn’t sure if it was you, or one of your false trails,” Erin says. “But then, what do you know, some undergrad came by putting a poster outside of my office with a laughable ‘puzzle’ posted on it. What a strange coincidence! I asked him a couple questions on where he got it from, and then I came to my final answer when the puzzle’s solution matched your number.”

“A laughable puzzle?” I repeat, trying not to sound too insulted.

“You can play your games, Markus, but you can’t fool me,” Erin says. She doesn’t even sound smug when she says it. There’s just the certainty that comes with the confidence of knowing you’re speaking the unimpeachable truth. “Which brings us back to my original question. Why are you here?”

Okay, so Erin doesn’t want to dance around or play any games. She wants me to get to the point. Well, I can do that. I take a deep breath and let it go. It’s not a big ask. It will be fine.

“I need to see a doctor,” I say.

“We’ve got two in the house right now,” Erin quips. “Want me to call Dr. Cavanis down? I think she might be showering.”

“Not that kind of doctor,” I say, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. “I need to see Dr. Park.”

Erin pauses for a moment, thinking.

“Ah. So that’s why you came to me,” she quietly mutters.

Her fingers start drumming across the countertop again. She’s looking at me, but her deep dark eyes stare past me, seeing something that I am not. I swear I can almost see the thoughts whirling about in her head, surely a torrent so fast that I wouldn’t be able to keep up with it. A good ten seconds passes before she sighs.

“I’m afraid I can’t help you with that.”

“You were thinking about it,” I say, jabbing an accusatory finger at her, “so I know you can do it. You’re going to make that phone call, or do whatever it takes to get an me an appointment with the doctor.”

My hand hits the table, the thwack echoing through the windowless kitchen. Erin raises an eyebrow.

“Are you trying to threaten me?” she says. “You can’t pull anything on me. I’m always two steps ahead of you, Markus. So when I say I can’t help you—”

“Smile,” I interject, whipping out my phone. I turn around and snap a selfie, capturing my smug grin and Erin’s shocked face, her mouth in a tiny, tidy ‘o’.

“See, I might not be able to do anything to you, but Father certainly can. I’m willing to reveal my location to bring you down if I need to,” I say. I bring up my messages and type in a number. “You want me to send this picture?”

Erin laughs, and I realise with a start that she doesn’t seem to be taking my threat seriously at all.

“Oh you’re silly Markus, there’s no need to be so dramatic,” she says, but I tap on the selfie anyways, uploading it into the text. My finger hovers over the Send button, and I give her a serious look. Erin talks on, as if oblivious to my actions. “I can’t help you get an appointment with Dr. Park because of circumstances outside my control,” Erin says. “I took some time to find ways around those, but I couldn’t come up with anything. I’m on your side.”

“You… you’re willing to help me?”

The shock on my face seems funny to Erin, as a good-natured smile cracks across her face.

“Have I ever indicated otherwise?” she asks. “Of course I’ll help you out, Markus. We’ll think of something.”

I sigh in relief, pulling my finger away from the Send button. I would have made good on my threat, but it would have brought a world of trouble on my shoulders. This is good. I need Dr. Park, but maybe there’s…

My phone buzzes in my hand.

“You didn’t actually send the text, did you?” Erin asks, a line of worry crossing her face.

I hurriedly double-check to make sure that I haven’t sent the message—I haven’t—and then I delete it, making sure that it’s well and truly gone before I tap into the message I just received.

“No, this was just another stupid person who managed to complete my challenge,” I say after the reading the text. “There’s got to be over a hundred of these guys now, and half of them are bugging me asking me what’s next.”

“I can sympathise with them,” Erin says idly, checking her own phone. She reads a message and then hops off her stool by the counter. “Genevieve ordered takeout because she was starving, and I’m sure you are too—I’ll be back in a second with the food. Try not to make out with her too much while I’m getting it, alright?”

She grins at me and heads for the door, just as I realise that my stomach is indeed desperately rumbling for food. Maybe that’s what set me on edge? A moment later, I hear Genevieve’s footsteps pattering down the staircase.