Analog, July-August 2006 by Dell Magazine Authors

Author:Dell Magazine Authors [Authors, Dell Magazine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Magazine, 2012
Publisher: Dell Magazines
Published: 2010-07-03T04:00:00+00:00

WILLIES by MAYA KAATHRYN BOHNHOFF

You never know what may have practical applications....

The plate was empty. Two minutes ago it had contained a grilled croissant slathered with Nutella. Sprinkled with sugared coconut. The now-empty plate was supposed to have contained a chicken breast sandwich with bib lettuce and cucumber, held together with low-fat cream cheese.

Victoria Spoon stared at the plate. Moments earlier, it had looked like a long-lost friend. Only now, when it was too late, did she see its true form—that of an implacable enemy. Tears welled up in her eyes. How many hours of exercise had she just wiped out? How many cucumber sandwiches had she just zeroed? Tears sliding down her face, she took out her cell phone and tapped out a number she knew better than she knew her own mother's. It was Sunday morning, but she prayed her call would be answered.

It was, on only the second ring.

"Doctor Geller, I'm so sorry. I—I—I...” Victoria hiccupped. “It was a croissant ... with Nutella ... and coconut. Please help me!"

Doctor Geller was a saint. No hemming, no hawing, just: “Come right over, Vic. I'll meet you at my office."

She hung up, her eyes going against her will to the half-empty glass next to the empty plate—the glass that was supposed to contain a double low-fat latte, but which actually held hazelnut mochachino with whipped cream. Real whipped cream.

Still hiccupping through her tears, Victoria Spoon picked up the glass and drained it.

* * * *

"Annette, it's Sunday."

"I know.” Dr. Annette Geller rolled from beneath her husband's arm and out of bed.

"We were going to sleep in."

Annette grinned at him over one bare shoulder. “Is that what we were doing?"

"We were going caving today."

"We can still go ... after."

"Annette, it's Sunday."

"I believe we've established that.” She paused in the act of rooting underwear from her bedside dresser and turned to look at him. “Tell me, Dr. Hamlin, if this was one of your patients, would you just tell them to cool their jets until Monday?"

"I don't have patients. I have test subjects."

"Elliott..."

He sighed and flung his forearm over his eyes. “Oh, all right, yes. If it were my patient, of course, I'd see them. Who is it?"

"Victoria Spoon,” Annette answered from the bathroom.

"The binge eater?"

Annette's head popped out through the bathroom doorway. “How'd you know that?"

"You consulted with me about eating disorder studies, remember? When you first started treating her."

"Oh, right."

"Alas, Ms. Spoon's ailment is beyond current science."

"And technology. Her last therapist recommended she get her jaw wired shut. She drank malteds from a sipper cup. I don't suppose you have any applicable studies in the pipeline now?"

He shook his head. “My team's working on reflexive aversion right now. And Doctor Pandit is prepping for a sleep disorder study. Hey, if she eats in her sleep—” The end of his sentence was lost in the sound of shower spray.

For Elliott Hamlin, Victoria Spoon's cry for help was literally a wakeup call. Calculated by the Deity, he figured, to remind him why he was no longer in clinical practice.

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