THE HOMING by John Saul

Author:John Saul [Saul, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Fawcett Columbine / Ballantine
Published: 1994-08-04T21:00:00+00:00

“Stick out your tongue and say ‘Ahh,’” Ellen Filmore told Gareth Parker. The four-year-old gazed up at her solemnly, but made no move to comply with her order.

“Don’t hurt me,” he said.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Ellen promised. She held up the tongue depressor for his inspection. “See? It looks just like an ice cream stick, doesn’t it?”

Gareth shook his head emphatically.

“Well, maybe it doesn’t,” Ellen agreed. “But I’m not going to put it down your throat or anything. I’m just going to press your tongue down a little bit, so I can see how your tonsils look. See?” Opening her mouth, she used the depressor to flatten her own tongue, then leaned over so the little boy could peer into her throat. Just as he leaned closer for a better look, she said, “Ahh!” loudly enough to make him jump, then reached out to tickle him. As the little boy began giggling, Ellen threw the used tongue depressor away and began peeling the paper from a new one. “Now what do you say?” she asked. “Your turn?”

Gareth nodded. “Okay,” he said, opening his mouth and leaning forward slightly. Ellen pressed his tongue down, moved closer, and was just about to get a good look at the offending tonsils when she felt the little boy’s fingers plunge into her ribs and heard a burst of laughter explode from his throat.

Reflexively jerking back as the depressor dropped from her fingers, Ellen did her best to fix the little boy with a stern look, but didn’t quite succeed. “You planned that,” she accused.

Gareth nodded happily.

“Okay,” Ellen sighed. “Let’s start over again, all right?”

But as she was reaching for yet a third depressor, the door to the examining room opened and Roberto Muñoz stuck his head in. “Better get out here, Doc,” he said. “We got a problem.”

From the waiting room, Ellen could hear a low moaning sound, followed by a worried female voice: “It’s going to be all right, Andy. Just hang on!”

It was the urgency in the woman’s voice that commanded Ellen Filmore’s attention more than the sound of the moan.

A moan could mean anything from a stomachache to a hangover, but whoever was with the patient in the waiting room obviously thought it was a lot more serious than either of those. Leaving Gareth Parker under Roberto’s supervision, she hurried out to the waiting room.

One look told her what had happened.

It was Andy Bennett, his face flushed the same abnormal red she’d seen only a few days before on Julie Spellman, and a week before that on Julie’s little sister, Molly.

Andy’s right hand and forearm had already swollen grotesquely, and he appeared to be on the verge of falling into unconsciousness.

“Bee sting?” Ellen asked, though she was nearly certain it could be nothing else.

Marian Bennett glanced up and nodded, her lips clamped tightly in a harsh line as she attempted to control the fear that had bloomed inside her as she’d watched Andy’s arm blow up and his face turn red.

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