The Quality of Mercy by Gilbert Morris

Author:Gilbert Morris [Gilbert Morris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781441239914
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2012-11-07T05:00:00+00:00

The small nun was named Sister Veronica, and Savage came to know that she was the best the hospital had to offer. No bigger than a cricket, she handled him as if he were filled with Styrofoam instead of solid flesh and bone. The younger nurses and aides tried to be careful when they changed his bandage or bathed him, but somehow Sister Veronica’s firm movements were less painful than their attempts to be gentle.

She came in on the third day of his stay, her eyes bright as usual, and asked, “Are we ready for our bath now?”

Boredom and lack of activity made Savage irritable, and he stared at her. “Are we bathing together?”

His remark failed to shock the diminutive nun, who had heard far worse in the emergency room. She smiled sweetly, then proceeded to scrub his face and upper body. “What is that, lye soap?” he demanded.

Ignoring his question, Sister Veronica gave him a critical look. “You need a haircut, a shampoo, and a shave.”

Savage stared at her in alarm. “The haircut can wait. And I can shave myself.”

“Don’t be stubborn, Mr. Savage. You need to learn how to receive.” She moved to the small table, pulled out a kit, then returned to the bed. Taking out a small can of Colgate shaving cream, she uncapped it and filled her palm. As she layered his face, she asked, “Have you always been a detective?”

“No one is born a cop,” he answered, eyeing her cautiously as she picked up the small disposable safety razor. “Have you ever shaved a man before?”

“Dead and alive,” she answered calmly.

“Dead? You’ve shaved a dead man?”

“Many times—in Calcutta. I worked with Mother Teresa for three years. The men we took in off the street were not able to help themselves, so I shaved them. Sometimes after they died.”

Savage stared at her with a new respect as she raked the whiskers off his cheek with firm competence. “Pretty rough work, wasn’t it? Got pretty dirty sometimes?” She made no answer, moving the razor slowly around his jawline. “I wouldn’t do that for a million dollars.”

Sister Veronica removed the razor, swished it in the basin of water, then looked him in the eye. “Neither would I, Mr. Savage.”

Savage was rebuked by her reply and sat there silently until she finished. As she was wiping his face off with a damp cloth, the door opened. Dr. Lane came in, accompanied by Dan Ross.

“Good morning, Mr. Savage,” the doctor said cheerfully. “You’re lucky to get Sister Veronica. She’s the best barber here.” A smile pulled the corners of her lips upward, and she added, “When some of the less experienced nurses and aides try it, I have to come in and do stitches.”

“Better than most barbers,” Savage nodded. “Thanks, Sister. You ever want anybody beat up, call on me.” A glint of humor came to his eyes, and he announced as Sister Veronica prepared to leave the room, “I’ve decided to let you—” He paused dramatically until she turned and waited curiously.

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