The Rusted Scalpel Read online

“See?”

  “Metaphorically, of course. But yes…see…feel…sense. Whatever you want to call it. But healing is so strong with you.”

  “I don’t know what you are seeing or sensing, but I sure the hell can’t heal anyone when I can’t even see my hands.” He stretched his hands in front of him and brought them to his face. “All I see is darkness.”

  “You think you healed anyone before, when your eyes worked?”

  “Of course…” Nick started, then stopped. “I don’t know. As you said, we bone doctors just get the pieces back as close as we can, and the body does the rest.”

  “So, were you doing the healing?”

  Nick shook his head slowly. “I don’t know. I guess when you ask like that…no.”

  “God is the healer. Sometimes physicians assist in the healing, and at other times it comes by divine intervention. Nicklaus, I have had visions of you. I have seen you laying your hands on people and praying for them and God touching them. You know the stories in the Bible, yes?”

  “Yes, of course, but I am nowhere close to those holy men…those disciples.”

  This brought more laughter from Chang. “Like Peter. One minute Jesus is telling him that he is blessed, and the next minute He is saying, Peter, you knucklehead, you still don’t get it. ‘Get thee behind me, Satan.’ The disciples were broken men like me and you. They were fishermen. But even Peter’s shadow ushered in healing as it fell over people.”

  “Then why is God stripping everything away from me?”

  Chang grabbed Nick’s shoulders and turned him so they were face-to-face. “Because emptying must precede filling, my dear friend. He wants to empty you so you can be filled to overflowing.”

  “Filled with what?”

  “With the Holy Spirit, of course. That is when our lives get interesting. Even Jesus told His disciples to wait for the baptism of the Holy Spirit. Then He said something remarkable: ‘You will see even greater things than what you saw me doing.’”

  “How in the world does that happen?”

  “It only happens when we abide in God…when we pull close to God…only when we listen to God. That’s the only way we find fulfillment, contentment, or even joy. This is the hope we must grab onto with both hands and not let go. And if you’re holding onto this hope with both hands you can’t be holding on to anything else.”

  “Maybe I’m beginning to understand,” Nick said. “You mind if we head back? I’m getting pretty chilled.” He felt for the rock to steady himself and edged his feet to the ground.

  Chang got to his feet and helped Nick stand. He laughed warmly and took Nick’s arm. “Let me pray over you as Saint Paul prayed over the Ephesians. ‘I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your heart through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.’ Amen.”

  “Amen,” Nick repeated and felt Chang squeeze his arm.

  * * *

  Nick shed his jacket and hat as his dad drove them home. The trio sat in silence when Nick’s phone rang. He hit the button to answer it, and the call came over the Bluetooth speaker.

  “Hello,” Nick answered.

  “Nicklaus,” Maggie said.

  “Hey, Maggie…I’m with Dad and my therapist, Chang. You’re on speakerphone.”

  “Hi, Dr. Hart.”

  “Hi, Maggie,” Nick’s dad said. Nick could hear his dad’s voice soften. He knew his dad had a tender spot for her.

  “Hi, Chang,” Maggie said. “Nick has been telling me about you. You beat any sense into him yet?”

  Chang laughed loudly. “You know him all too well.”

  Nick wished they were off speakerphone. Actually, he wished that they were on some remote tropical island together…alone. “You see I have my fan club with me,” Nick said. “How’s it going?”

  “Nicklaus, you will not believe it. I got the grant!”

  “That’s awesome, Maggie.” Nick turned to his companions and explained, “Last year Maggie applied for a grant on behalf of the Hope Center from a foundation in Singapore.” Then he turned his attention to Maggie. “Did you get the full amount?”

  “No,” Maggie said. “They want to give us twice the amount. My Lord, Nick. They want to give the Hope Center four million dollars.” Her voice was full of emotion. “Can you believe it? It is so much more than I could have wished for. It’s unbelievable.”

  Nick joined the cheer that rose from the SUV. “That is so great, Maggie. Way to go!”

  “Well, I give all thanks to God, ‘who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine.’”

  “Ephesians,” Chang said with delight. “I was just praying a prayer from Ephesians over Nicklaus.”

  “Yes, thank you, Jesus,” Maggie said. “So here’s the catch. The foundation has asked that I come to Singapore to receive the money directly. They want to throw a bit of a celebration for us. They have booked two first-class tickets to Singapore and told me to invite someone special to go with me.”

  Nick held his breath.

  “Nicklaus, I know how much you love to fly, but will you please come with me?”

  Nick didn’t say anything. As much as he wanted to be with Maggie, it sounded like a terrible idea. Yes, he hated to fly, but worse, he couldn’t imagine traveling internationally in his condition. He was about to put her off, saying he’d think about it, when he felt Chang’s hand squeeze his shoulder.

  “I believe you now have two journeys,” the therapist said, “your spiritual one to see yourself as the Father sees you, and your physical one with Maggie.”

  CHAPTER 6

  CHA-CHING

  Wright dipped an edge of the bluefin tuna sashimi into the mixture of soy sauce and wasabi and bit it in half. He swished it from side to side in his mouth, like he was tasting a fine wine. His Japanese chef stood stone-faced, staring straight ahead, his arms crossed over his statuesque posture. It probably annoyed the chef that Wright would dare dip such a fine piece of raw fish into the seasoning. The huge bluefin tuna cost over one million dollars, and his chef was friends with the restaurant owners who’d bought the fish. Wright imagined some late-night transaction over whiskey and cards that negotiated the transaction of such an expensive piece of the fish—three thousand dollars a pound. The piece he held in his chopsticks was worth a mere 170 dollars.

  “Yes, Mr. Fujimoto. It’s very nice. Thank you.”

  The chef let his arms fall to his sides and bowed. “Hai,” he said sharply as he rose. “Is there anything else, sir?”

  “No, thank you, Mr. Fujimoto. This looks like a feast; don’t you agree, ladies?” he said to Leah and Dr. Amy.

  They both nodded, stabbing at pieces of the expensive fish with their chopsticks.

  “Yes, that will be all, Mr. Fujimoto. Thank you.” The chef bowed again, left the room and shut the door to the luxury penthouse office on the sixty-sixth floor of the Wright Tower in the Marina Bay Financial Center.

  Wright turned to the women. “We have much to celebrate tonight, I believe.” He reached for the small, ceramic sake flask and poured three cups. The rice wine was chilled to just below room temperature. He handed Leah and Dr. Amy each a cup and held his up to eye level. “Here’s to the health of the young baby and the release of our new drug…Welltrex.” He raised his cup and took a swallow of sake.

  “Here’s to Welltrex,” Leah toasted and took a large drink.

  “Yes, to the health of the baby,” Amy added, then touched the bitter wine to her lips and set the cup down.

  Wright saw that Amy had politely attempted to taste the sake even though she clearly didn’t enjoy it. “Here, let me pour you some water,” he said, taking the crystal water pitcher and pouring each o
f them a glass of ice water.

  “Thank you, Wright,” Amy said. “I’m not sure what the Japanese see in the stuff. It’s a bit sharp for my taste, aye,” she added in her Kiwi brogue. She smiled and took the glass. “Thank you again for coming to get the baby. I was at my wits’ end and thought the poor little guy might not make it. I worried he was going to cark it at any moment,” she said. She raised her water glass to Wright. “I’m keen he made it through surgery, aye.”

  Wright took another piece of the tuna and let his tongue savor the flavor before swallowing. He looked at Leah and nodded to Amy. “Tell Dr. Amy the good news.”

  “We received the approval letter from the FDA today.”

  She said it so nonchalantly that it may as well have been old news of politics and taxes.

  Wright had to laugh. “You’d think that after eight years and a quarter of a billion dollars, you could manage to show a little enthusiasm.”

  “I thought I was,” Leah shrugged. Failing to pinch another piece of sushi with her chopsticks, she put them down and grabbed a fork.

  Wright smiled at her and addressed Amy. “What Leah is getting so overjoyed about is that not only did we get the FDA’s approval, we received every one of the indications that we applied for.”

  Dr. Amy looked shocked. “All of them?”

  “Yes!” Wright couldn’t contain his excitement. He jumped to his feet and counted off on his fingers. “Depression, anxiety, acute and chronic pain, and treatment for addiction. Can you believe it?”

  Leah imitated his gesture but after each one she added the sound of a cash register. “Cha-ching, cha-ching, cha-ching, and cha-ching.”

  Wright ignored her and looked at Amy. “Never in my wildest imagination did I think they would give us treatment for addiction. With the growing problems with opioids, heroin and fentanyl, think of the good we can do.”

  “Not to mention, the FDA just added billions of dollars in profits to Zelutex,” Leah added. “Cha-ching.”

  “Dr. Amy, thank you for your very competent work.” Wright raised his sake cup to her. “We could not have done this without you.”

  She blushed and looked away. Wright had not become the twenty-fourth richest man in the world with a net worth of over twenty-seven billion dollars without being able to read people. He sat and returned to his dinner, plucking a spicy tuna roll with his chopsticks. He pushed the entire piece into his mouth, all the while observing his medical director. Her long hair fell straight over her shoulders and framed her plain face, free of makeup. Her black oval glasses were too wide for her face. He wondered if Amy was having her period because of the angry red pimple on her chin. She wasn’t unattractive, but her calf-length skirt and outdated shoes made her look dowdy. She appeared to ignore his gaze as she tried to bite a piece of sushi in half and spilled the contents on her lap.

  “Oh geez,” she said, trying to pick up the mess. She forced a smile. “I’m such a klutz. Probably why I’m a good meat-and-potatoes Kiwi.”

  A flash of light filled the office windows and a loud boom startled them. “Aha, the city has joined in our celebration,” Wright said, jumping up again and walking to the windows overlooking the Singapore harbor. Fireworks filled the night over the Marina Bay Sands Complex. Leah and Amy joined him just as a golden burst of light followed by tentacles of red sparkles illuminated the sky. Detonation of the mortars percussed the windows and were quickly followed by exploding flowers of color. Four huge spheres of blue, red and silver filled the sky framed with waterfalls of golden sparkles. Two more erupted, sending trails of silver stars like a weeping willow.

  “Beautiful,” Amy said. Wright saw her smiling. He liked that it made her happy. Not surprisingly, Leah’s expression had not changed, but when a brilliant flash and a loud explosion hit simultaneously, she jumped, and he laughed.

  A laser show erupted from the lotus-flower-shaped ArtScience Museum and spread over the Marina Bay Sands Hotel. The hotel touted the world’s longest elevated swimming pool, suspended over the skyline by three large buildings, held to the sky like an offering to the clouds. The display and the views, which he had helped create, were stunning. Heavily invested in the Marina Bay Sands complex and the world’s largest casino that paid huge dividends, he believed it was worth every penny. The diversity of investment had been Leah’s brainchild, and it was growing Wright’s empire daily.

  “Have you been to the new ArtScience Center?” Wright asked Amy.

  “I have not…but would love to go.” Her eyes brightened even more.

  “We designed the bowl-shaped roof so that rainwater is captured and channeled down the center of the building. It cascades into the reflecting pond in the atrium and is recycled for the building’s landscaping. It’s very biofriendly.”

  “Mr. Paul’s foundation built it at a cost of eight hundred million dollars,” Leah said with disapproval. She always called him Mr. Paul when she wanted to make a point.

  “And I think creating an educational focal point for children was worth every cent,” Wright countered. “After all, that’s what the Wright’s Kids Foundation is all about—children.” When Leah merely shrugged, he turned back to Amy. “Well, anyway, you should plan a visit when you can. It’s marvelous.”

  He waited for her to respond, but she stared at the remains of the night display. He sensed something else was amiss. “You okay?” he asked.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, looking at the floor as if to collect her thoughts. “It’s all very exciting.” She reached for the window and instantly withdrew, realizing she’d put her sweaty handprint on the glass. She blushed and turned to Wright, “You know I’m so grateful for my career here with Zelutex, and I’m thankful for both of you. I think our new medication, Welltrex, is good as gold. It’ll help millions.” She paused and swallowed hard. “You pay me to be objective, aye, and I guess I’m a skeptic. Honestly, I have been waiting for the other shoe to drop. What…we have developed six drugs with Zelutex, and I worked on over twenty more before joining your team?” She crossed her arms. “And I’ve never seen a drug that has gone through development, animal trials and now clinical trials so smoothly.”

  “Yes, only eight years and a quarter of a billion dollars,” Leah reminded her and rolled her eyes.

  Amy shot her a nervous smile. “Not only does the medication appear to be clinically effective, the side-effect profile appears to be one of the lowest I’ve ever worked with.” She adjusted her glasses and looked at Wright. “I guess it’s even surprised me. I worry that I’ve buggered something, aye.”

  Wright laughed, stepped closer to her and took her elbow. “What is that stupid American saying, ‘Better to be lucky than good’? I don’t think this is luck, Doctor. Welltrex is the result of plain and simple hard work and your smarts. Look at the animal data…your data. And, you are right, the clinical data has surpassed our wildest dreams. A handful of bellyaches that are no worse than aspirin.” He squeezed her elbow. “Right?”

  “Yes…but—”

  “But nothing, Amy. Remember you are a shareholder now. You’ll have more money than you’ll know what to do with.” He smiled and let go of her arm, searching her eyes for affirmation. “What, Amy? I still see doubt in your eyes.”

  “I went upriver last week to check on patients and I…I don’t know, this is going to sound like I’m packing a sad.”

  “Did you see something, Amy?” Wright said with more alarm than he intended.

  “Well…not what you’re thinking,” she said, stumbling over her words. “Nothing…no cardiovascular, psychological or neurological problems. In fact, the gastrointestinal problems we saw early on seem to have resolved.”

  “See, nothing to worry yourself over,” Wright reassured, but her face betrayed her angst. “What is it, then?”

  “A few of the spiritual leaders in the villages came to me with a concern.”

  “A few?”

  “Two…two to be exact.”

  “What was their concern?” Wrigh
t asked.

  She sighed again. “They told me they could no longer hear from the spirit world.”

  Wright resisted laughing and glanced at Leah and then back at Amy. “Go on.”

  “Both leaders are manang, shamans of their respective longhouses.”

  “Yes, I know who the manang are—the witch doctors,” Wright said and pictured the spiritual leaders of the longhouses he had met—adorned with brightly colored headdresses of bird feathers, woven loincloths, beaded wraps around their calves and often holding a chicken ready for sacrifice. “What do you mean, they don’t hear from the spirit world?”

  “I can only tell you what they said.” She swallowed. “Wright, I don’t mean to be defensive, but you know what the spiritual world means to the Iban. They hardly go to the bathroom without consulting the gods, aye.”

  Wright searched the doctor’s eyes and knew she was sincere, but he could barely hold back a smile. “Must be a bad day in the witch doctor’s office. We’ve all had bad days. I’ll bet even you, Amy.” He withheld his smile until he saw her finish processing her concern.

  She finally smiled back at him. “I suppose you’re right; it’s probably nothing.”

  He nodded. “You are an excellent physician, Dr. Amy, always looking out for the patients. But I don’t think two of the witch doctors having bad days is enough to give us concern. With the FDA approval, you can stop all the trials now. If the medication was to blame for their bad mojo, it should go away when they stop taking it.”

  “To maximize our profits, we need to get to market, especially with only twelve years left on our patent,” Leah reminded them both. With drugs only given twenty-year patents, they had already burned up eight years in development. They had twelve years to achieve their projections of five billion a year. “We all have too much at stake to worry about the witch doctors eating a bunch of overripe bananas…don’t you think?”

  CHAPTER 7

  HEALING

  One of Nick’s problems with blindness was that darkness was a constant companion, even in the middle of the day. His brain got confused and told his body to sleep when it should be awake and wake when it was time to sleep. Nick had hardly slept a wink the last few nights since returning to Memphis. He missed his parents, his mother’s chicken and dumplings, the smell of pine outside his childhood bedroom window, and most surprisingly, his new friend, Kwai Chang.