Perfectly Reassuring
“Nothing to worry about,” Dr. Bones said.
The patient looked at the syringe.
Dr. Bones held it higher, apparently hoping a better view would help.
On the bench against the wall, three waiting skeletons leaned forward. Nurse Ada adjusted the tray in her hands. A metal cup rattled against a bottle.
“I haven’t—” the patient began.
“Quite natural,” said the doctor. “Everybody feels like that.”
He gave the patient’s shoulder a reassuring pat. The bed answered with a rusty squeak.
Mr. Webb drew his hands together over the blanket. He had expected to sit in a chair. Being invited to lie down had seemed encouraging at first.
Now he was less sure.
The Prepared Treatment
Dr. Bones turned towards the window and examined the syringe against a shaft of blue light.
“Excellent,” he murmured.
Ada looked at the bottle, then at him.
“What is?”
“The light.”
He lowered his arm and studied Mr. Webb with an expression of professional concern.
“How are we feeling?”
“A little nervous.”
“That’s why I said not to worry.”
“Yes, but—”
“Try to relax.”
Mr. Webb looked towards Ada. She set the tray on the cabinet and moved a stool beside the bed.
Behind her, ivy had worked its way through a crack in the window frame. It had reached the corner of an old certificate, leaving the doctor’s name visible and most of the smaller writing concealed.
Dr. Bones straightened his badge.
Ada sat down.
“What brought you in, Mr. Webb?”
The doctor paused with one hand above the tray.
One Small Question
“My jaw,” said Mr. Webb.
A sharp click followed the words.
One of the waiting patients looked towards the door, as though someone had knocked.
“It does that,” Mr. Webb explained. Click.
Dr. Bones put the syringe down.
“Ah.”
“It started on Tuesday. My sister thought I was interrupting her. I tried to explain, but every time I opened my mouth, it happened again.”
He stopped. The room waited.
“And then?” Ada asked.
“She said I needn’t keep making that noise to get a turn.”
Click.
Mr. Webb folded the blanket’s edge between his fingers.
“We usually have a very nice visit.”
Ada nodded. Dr. Bones pulled the other stool closer and sat beside her. One leg was shorter than the others; he shifted until he found a position that stayed reasonably still.
“Does it happen when you’re quiet?” he asked.
Mr. Webb shook his head.
“Only when—” Click.
The doctor leaned forward. This time, he watched Mr. Webb’s jaw instead of the tray.
Ada waited until the sound had stopped.
“Anything else you’d like to tell us?”
Mr. Webb looked from one face to the other.
“I’d like to know what you’re going to do before you do it.”
“Of course,” said Ada.
Dr. Bones nodded, rather more slowly than before.
Now We Can Begin
The syringe remained on the tray.
Mr. Webb sat up, and Ada moved the pillow behind his back. He began describing the sound again while Dr. Bones made a note on a sheet of paper.
From the waiting bench came a voice.
“Will mine take long?”
“What have you come about?” Ada asked.
The skeleton in the brown cap pointed at his knee.
“It turns round when I stand.”
Dr. Bones looked up from his paper. His eyes went briefly towards the tray, then returned to the knee.
“We’ll have a look when it’s your turn.”
Mr. Webb glanced at the note.
JAW CLICKS, it said, in large, confident letters.
“That’s what I was about to ask you,” Dr. Bones told him.
Ada looked towards the untouched appointment book.
She opened it to the first page.
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