Nothing Lasts Forever Page 5

On Monday morning, three of Paige's patients' charts were missing, and Paige was blamed.

On Wednesday, Paige was awakened at 4:00 A.M. in the on-call room. Sleepily, she picked up the telephone. "Dr. Taylor."

Silence.

"Hello ... hello."

She could hear breathing at the other end of the line. And then there was a click.

Paige lay awake for the rest of the night.

In the morning, Paige said to Kat, "I'm either becoming paranoid or someone hates me." She told Kat what had happened.

"Patients sometimes get grudges against doctors," Kat said. "Can you think of anyone who ...?"

Paige sighed. " Dozens."

"I'm sure there's nothing to worry about."

Paige wished that she could believe it.

In the late summer, the magic telegram arrived. It was waiting for Paige when she returned to the apartment late at night. It read: "Arriving San Francisco noon Sunday. Can't wait to see you. Love, Alfred."

He was finally on his way back to her! Paige read the telegram again and again, her excitement growing each time. Alfred! His name conjured up a tumbling kaleidoscope of exciting memories ...

Paige and Alfred had grown up together. Their fathers were part of a medical cadre of WHO that traveled to Third World countries, fighting exotic and virulent diseases. Paige and her mother accompanied Dr. Taylor, who headed the team.

Paige and Alfred had had a fantasy childhood. In India, Paige learned to speak Hindi. At the age of two, she knew that the name for the bamboo hut they lived in was basha. Her father was gorasahib, a white man, and she was nani, a little sister. They addressed Paige's father as abadhan, the leader, or baba, father.

When Paige's parents were not around, she drank bhanga, an intoxicating drink made with hashish leaves, and ate chapati with ghi.

And then they were on their way to Africa. Off to another adventure!

Paige and Alfred became used to swimming and bathing in rivers that had crocodiles and hippopotamuses. Their pets were baby zebras and cheetahs and snakes. They grew up in windowless round huts made of wattle and daub, with packed dirt floors and conical thatched roofs. Someday, Paige vowed to herself, I'm going to live in a real house, a beautiful cottage with a green lawn and a white picket fence.

To the doctors and nurses, it was a difficult, frustrating life. But to the two children, it was a constant adventure, living in the land of lions, giraffes, and elephants. They went to primitive cinder-block school-houses, and when none was available, they had tutors.

Paige was a bright child, and her mind was a sponge, absorbing everything. Alfred adored her.

"I'm going to marry you one day, Paige," he said when she was twelve, he fourteen.

"I'm going to marry you, too, Alfred."

They were two serious children, determined to spend the rest of their lives together.

The doctors from WHO were selfless, dedicated men and women who devoted their lives to their work. They often worked under nearly impossible circumstances. In Africa, they had to compete with wogesha - the native medical practitioners whose primitive remedies were passed on from father to son, and often had deadly effects. The Masai's traditional remedy for flesh wounds was olkilorite, a mixture of cattle blood, raw meat, and essence of a mysterious root.

The Kikuyu remedy for smallpox was to have children drive out the sickness with sticks.

"You must stop that," Dr. Taylor would tell them. "It doesn't help."

"Better than having you stick sharp needles in our skin," they would reply.

The dispensaries were tables lined up under the trees, for surgery. The doctors saw hundreds of patients a day, and there was always a long line waiting to see them -  lepers, natives with tubercular lungs, whooping cough, smallpox, dysentery.

Paige and Alfred were inseparable. As they grew older, they would walk to the market together, to a village miles away. And they would talk about their plans for the future.

Medicine was a part of Paige's early life. She learned to care for patients, to give shots and dispense medications, and she anticipated ways to help her father.

Paige loved her father. Curt Taylor was the caring, selfless man she had ever known. He genuim liked people, dedicating his life to helping those wl needed him, and he instilled that passion in Paige, spite of the long hours he worked, he managed to time to spend with his daughter. He made the discomft of the primitive places they lived in fun.

Paige's relationship with her mother was something else. Her mother was a beauty from a wealthy social background. Her cool aloofness kept Paige at a distance, Marrying a doctor who was going to work in far-off exotic places had seemed romantic to her, but the harsh reality had embittered her. She was not a warm, loving woman, and she seemed to Paige always to be complaining.

"Why did we ever have to come to this godforsaken! place, Curt?"

"The people here live like animals. We're going catch some of their awful diseases."

"Why can't you practice medicine in the United States and make money like other doctors?"

And on and on it went.

The more her mother criticized him, the more Paige adored her father.

When Paige was fifteen years old, her mother disappeared with the owner of a large cocoa plantation in Brazil.

"She's not coming back, is she?" Paige asked.

"No, darling. I'm sorry."

"I'm glad!" She had not meant to say that. She was hurt that her mother had cared so little for her and her father that she had abandoned them.

The experience made Paige draw even closer to Alfred Turner. They played games together and went on expeditions together, and shared their dreams.

"I'm going to be a doctor, too, when I grow up," Alfred confided. "We'll get married, and we'll work together."

"And we'll have lots of children!"

"Sure. If you like."

On the night of Paige's sixteenth birthday, their lifelong emotional intimacy exploded into a new dimension. At a little village in East Africa, the doctors had been called away on an emergency, because of an epidemic, and Paige, Alfred, and a cook were the only ones left in camp.

They had had dinner and gone to bed. But in the middle of the night Paige had been awakened in her tent by the faraway thunder of stampeding animals. She lay there, and as the minutes went by and the sound of the stampede came closer, she began to grow afraid. Her breath quickened. There was no telling when her father and the others would return.

She got up. Alfred's tent was only a few feet away. Terrified, Paige got up, raised the flap of the tent, and ran to Alfred's tent.

He was asleep.

"Alfred!"

He sat up, instantly awake. "Paige? Is anything wrong?"

"I'm frightened. Could I get into bed with you for a while?"

"Sure." They lay there, listening to the animals charging through the brush.

In a few minutes, the sounds began to die away.

Alfred became conscious of Paige's warm body lying next to him.

"Paige, I think you'd better go back to your tent." Paige could feel his male hardness pressing against her.

All the physical needs that had been building up within them came boiling to the surface.

"Alfred."

"Yes?" His voice was husky.

"We're getting married, aren't we?"

"Yes."

"Then it's all right."

And the sounds of the jungle around them disappeared, and they began to explore and discover a world no one had ever possessed but themselves. They were the first lovers in the world, and they gloried in the wonderful miracle of it.

At dawn, Paige crept back to her tent and she thought, happily, I'm a woman now.

From time to time, Curt Taylor suggested to Paige that she return to the United States to live with his brother in his beautiful home in Deerfield, north of Chicago.

"Why?" Paige would ask.

"So that you can grow up to be a proper young lady."

"I am a proper young lady."

"Proper young ladies don't tease wild monkeys and try to ride baby zebras."

Her answer was always the same. "I won't leave you."

When Paige was seventeen, the WHO team went to a jungle village in South Africa to fight a typhoid epidemic. Making the situation even more perilous was the fact that shortly after the doctors arrived, war broke out between two local tribes. Curt Taylor was warned to leave.

"I can't, for God's sake. I have patients who will die if I desert them."

Four days later, the village came under attack. Paige and her father huddled in their little hut, listening to the yelling and the sounds of gunfire outside.

Paige was terrified. "They're going to kill us!"

Her father had taken her in his arms. "They won't harm us, darling. We're here to help them. They know we're their friends."

And he had been right.

The chief of one of the tribes had burst into the hut with some of his warriors. "Do not worry. We guard you." And they had.

The fighting and shooting finally stopped, but in the morning Curt Taylor made a decision.

He sent a message to his brother. Sending Paige out on next plane. Will wire details. Please meet her at airport.

Paige was furious when she heard the news. She was taken, sobbing wildly, to the dusty little airport where a Piper Cub was waiting to fly her to a town where she could catch a plane to Johannesburg.

"You're sending me away because you want to get rid of me!" she cried.

Her father held her close in his arms. "I love you more than anything in the world, baby. I'll miss you every minute. But I'll be going back to the States soon, and we'll be together again."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Alfred was there to see Paige off.

"Don't worry," Alfred told Paige. "I'll come and get you as soon as I can. Will you wait for me?"

It was a pretty silly question, after all those years.

"Of course I will."

Three days later, when Paige's plane arrived at O'Hare Airport in Chicago, Paige's Uncle Richard was there to greet her. Paige had never met him. All she knew about him was that he was a very wealthy businessman whose wife had died several years earlier. "He's the successful one in the family," Paige's father

always said. Paige's uncle's first words stunned her. "I'm sorry to tell you this, Paige, but I just received word that your father was killed in a native uprising."

Her whole world had been shattered in an instant. The ache was so strong that she did not think she could bear it. I won't let my uncle see me cry, Paige vowed. I won't. I never should have left. I'm going back there.

Driving from the airport, Paige stared out the window, looking at the heavy traffic.

"I hate Chicago."

"Why, Paige?"

"It's a jungle."

Richard would not permit Paige to return to Africa for her father's funeral, and that infuriated her.

He tried to reason with her. "Paige, they've already buried your father. There's no point in your going back." But there was a point: Alfred was there.

A few days after Paige arrived, her uncle sat down with her to discuss her future.

"There's nothing to discuss," Paige informed him. "I'm going to be a doctor."

At twenty-one, when Paige finished college, she applied to ten medical schools and was accepted by all of them. She chose a school in Boston.

It took two days to reach Alfred by telephone in Zaire, where he was working part-time with a WHO unit.

When Paige told him the news, he said, "That's wonderful, darling. I'm nearly finished with my medical courses. I'll stay with WHO for a while, but in a few years we'll be practicing together."

Together. The magical word. "Paige, I'm desperate to see you. If I can get out a few days, could you meet me in Hawaii?" There wasn't the slightest hesitation. "Yes." And they had both managed it. Later, Paige could ly imagine how difficult it must have been for Alfred to make the long journey, but he never mentioned it.

They spent three incredible days at a small hotel in Hawaii, called Sunny Cove, and it was as though they had never been apart. Paige wanted so much to ask Alfred to go back to Boston with her, but she knew how selfish that would have been. The work that he was doing was far more important.

On their last day together, as they were getting dressed, Paige asked, "Where will they be sending you, Alfred?"

"Gambia, or maybe Bangladesh." To save lives, to help those who so desperately need him. She held him tightly and closed her eyes. She never wanted to let him go.

As though reading her thoughts, he said, "I'll never let you get away."

Paige started medical school, and she and Alfred corresponded regularly. No matter in what part of the world he was, Alfred managed to telephone Paige on her birthday and at Christmas. Just before New Year's Eve, when Paige was in her second year of school, Alfred telephoned.

"Paige?"

"Darling! Where are you?"

"I'm in Senegal. I figured out it's only eighty-eight hundred miles from the Sunny Cove hotel."

It took a minute for it to sink in.

"Do you mean ...?"

"Can you meet me in Hawaii for New Year's Eve?"

"Oh, yes! Yes!"

Alfred traveled nearly halfway around the world to meet her, and this time the magic was even stronger. Time had stood still for both of them.

"Next year I'll be in charge of my own cadre at WHO," Alfred said. "When you finish school, I want us to get married. ..."

They were able to get together once more, and when they weren't able to meet, their letters spanned time and space.

All those years he had worked as a doctor in Third World countries, like his father and Paige's father, doing the wonderful work that they did. And now, at last, he was coming home to her.

As Paige read Alfred's telegram for the fifth time, she thought, He's coming to San Francisco!

Kat and Honey were in their bedrooms, asleep. Paige shook them awake. "Alfred's coming! He's coming! He'll be here Sunday!"

"Wonderful," Kat mumbled. "Why don't you wake me up Sunday? I just got to bed."

Honey was more responsive. She sat up and said, "That's great! I'm dying to meet him. How long since you've seen him?"

"Two years," Paige said, "but we've always stayed in touch."

"You're a lucky girl," Kat sighed. "Well, we're all awake now. I'll put on some coffee."

The three of them sat around the kitchen table.

"Why don't we give Alfred a party?" Honey suggested. "Kind of a 'Welcome to the Groom' party."

"That's a good idea," Kat agreed.

"We'll make it a real celebration - a cake, balloons - the works!"

"We'll cook dinner for him here," Honey said.

Kat shook her head. "I've tasted your cooking. Let's send out for food."

Sunday was four days away, and they spent all their spare time discussing Alfred's arrival. By some miracle, the three of them were off duty on Sunday.

Saturday, Paige managed to get to a beauty salon. She went shopping and splurged on a new dress.

"Do I look all right? Do you think he'll like it?"

"You look sensational!" Honey assured her. "I hope he deserves you."

Paige smiled. "I hope I deserve him. You'll love him. He's fantastic!"

On The Sunday, an elaborate lunch they had ordered was laid out on the dining-room table, with a bottle of iced champagne. The women stood around, nervously waiting for Alfred's arrival.

At two o'clock, the doorbell rang, and Paige ran to the door to open it. There was Alfred. A bit tired-looking, a little thinner. But he was her Alfred. Standing next to him was a brunette who appeared to be in her thirties.

"Paige!" Alfred exclaimed.

Paige threw her arms around him. Then she turned to Honey and Kat and said proudly, "This is Alfred Turner. Alfred, these are my roommates, Honey Taft and Kat Hunter."

"Pleased to meet you," Alfred said. He turned to the woman at his side. "And this is Karen Turner. My wife." The three women stood there, frozen. Paige said slowly, "Your wife?" "Yes." He frowned. "Didn't... didn't you get my letter?" "Letter?"

"Yes. I sent it several weeks ago." "No ..."

"Oh. I ... I'm terribly sorry. I explained it all in my ... but of course, if you didn't get the ..." His voice trailed off... . "I'm really sorry, Paige. You and I have been apart so long, that I ... and then I met Karen ... and you know how it is ..."

"I know how it is," Paige said numbly. She turned to Karen and forced a smile. "I ... I hope you and Alfred will be very happy." "Thank you."

There was an awkward silence. Karen said, "I think we had better go, darling." "Yes. I think you had," Kat said. Alfred ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm really sorry, Paige. I ... well ... goodbye." "Goodbye, Alfred."

The three women stood there, watching the departing newly weds.

"That bastard!" Kat said. "What a lousy thing to do."

Paige's eyes were brimming with tears. "I ... he didn't mean to ... I mean ... he must have explained everything in his letter."

Honey put her arms around Paige. "There ought to be a law that all men should be castrated."

"I'll drink to that," Kat said.

"Excuse me," Paige said. She hurried to her bedroom and closed the door behind her.

She did not come out for the rest of the day.