was relatively easy for Adam to move his investigation from the confines of Max’s obsession to the open benches of Immunology Lab 808. Also, the information already gathered had given them leads with which to begin.
Moreover, there had been progress in other areas of the field, as Max explained. “I have it on good authority that researchers at Sandoz are well along the way with an immunosuppressant that will transform organ transplants into everyday occurrences.”
“Great,” Adam responded. “Now all
we
have to do is discover an analogy that would suppress the autoimmune reaction in pregnant females.”
“Right.” Max smiled. “And then we’ll go for lunch.”
Adam worked demonically. Whenever he was not seeing patients or delivering babies, he was in the lab.
Late one night, the lab phone rang, shrilly interrupting the quiet contemplation of those few still present and working.
“Hey, Adam, it’s for you,” called Cindy Po, a microbiologist from Hawaii. “Female—and very sexy.”
So immersed was he in what he’d been studying, Adam did not at first react to someone “sexy” calling him at this time of night. He merely walked like a somnambulist to the phone and said, “This is Dr. Coopersmith.”
“Hi, Doctor,” came a cheery voice.
“Toni,” he responded with pleasure. “It’s nice to hearfrom you. What made you call me at this ungodly hour?”
“The whole truth? I’ve been pining here, hoping you’d make a house call. Since it didn’t look like it was going to happen, I phoned your apartment. When I got no answer, I decided to find out whether you were on a heavy date or buried in research. Is there someone else in your life yet?”
“Listen, now that you know where I am on a Saturday night, you must realize the only creatures I’m involved with are furry and have tails. It was you who was otherwise … engaged.”
“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. How about coming to Washington next weekend?”
He challenged her. “How about you coming to Boston?”
“Fine. Thanks for the invitation.”
A few moments later Adam hung up and smiled broadly.
“Well, well, well,” Cindy remarked from a proximity that left no doubt that she had overheard the entire conversation. “It looks like you’ve blown your cover.”
“Meaning?”
“Your ostensible indifference to the female sex—at least the species that works in this lab.”
“Cindy,” he chided good-naturedly, “my private life is nobody’s business.”
“On the contrary, Prof, it’s probably the best source of gossip we’ve ever had. You’ve been voted the cutest doctor every year I’ve been here.”
“Come off it, Cindy. Go back to your amino acids.”
“Yes
sir,
” the young post-doc replied with playful deference, tossing off a final comment as she left. “We’ll take a straw vote to see if she’s worthy of you.”
Max Rudolph lived by his own rules. And they included surprise visits to the lab. Late the next afternoon, he discovered his protégé hard at work. Eyeing him withdisapproval, he demanded, “How many hours of sleep did you get last night?”
“A few.”
“ ‘A few’ is not a scientific answer,” he admonished. “And did you take in a movie as you promised?”
“Actually, I got carried away and missed the last show.”
The professor frowned. “I don’t like disobedience on my staff. Even your great brain has to recharge. So finish what you’re doing and we’ll go out to Newton and get some decent food into you.”
Adam was grateful for the invitation, and twenty minutes later they were in Max’s vintage Volkswagen Beetle, sputtering along Commonwealth Avenue in the growing winter darkness.
As the older man failed to stop for the second red light in a row, Adam scolded, “Pay attention. Your mind’s a million miles away. You shouldn’t be driving at the best of times.”
“At least
I
got some sleep last night,” Max replied with mock sanctimony.
Moreover, there had been progress in other areas of the field, as Max explained. “I have it on good authority that researchers at Sandoz are well along the way with an immunosuppressant that will transform organ transplants into everyday occurrences.”
“Great,” Adam responded. “Now all
we
have to do is discover an analogy that would suppress the autoimmune reaction in pregnant females.”
“Right.” Max smiled. “And then we’ll go for lunch.”
Adam worked demonically. Whenever he was not seeing patients or delivering babies, he was in the lab.
Late one night, the lab phone rang, shrilly interrupting the quiet contemplation of those few still present and working.
“Hey, Adam, it’s for you,” called Cindy Po, a microbiologist from Hawaii. “Female—and very sexy.”
So immersed was he in what he’d been studying, Adam did not at first react to someone “sexy” calling him at this time of night. He merely walked like a somnambulist to the phone and said, “This is Dr. Coopersmith.”
“Hi, Doctor,” came a cheery voice.
“Toni,” he responded with pleasure. “It’s nice to hearfrom you. What made you call me at this ungodly hour?”
“The whole truth? I’ve been pining here, hoping you’d make a house call. Since it didn’t look like it was going to happen, I phoned your apartment. When I got no answer, I decided to find out whether you were on a heavy date or buried in research. Is there someone else in your life yet?”
“Listen, now that you know where I am on a Saturday night, you must realize the only creatures I’m involved with are furry and have tails. It was you who was otherwise … engaged.”
“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. How about coming to Washington next weekend?”
He challenged her. “How about you coming to Boston?”
“Fine. Thanks for the invitation.”
A few moments later Adam hung up and smiled broadly.
“Well, well, well,” Cindy remarked from a proximity that left no doubt that she had overheard the entire conversation. “It looks like you’ve blown your cover.”
“Meaning?”
“Your ostensible indifference to the female sex—at least the species that works in this lab.”
“Cindy,” he chided good-naturedly, “my private life is nobody’s business.”
“On the contrary, Prof, it’s probably the best source of gossip we’ve ever had. You’ve been voted the cutest doctor every year I’ve been here.”
“Come off it, Cindy. Go back to your amino acids.”
“Yes
sir,
” the young post-doc replied with playful deference, tossing off a final comment as she left. “We’ll take a straw vote to see if she’s worthy of you.”
Max Rudolph lived by his own rules. And they included surprise visits to the lab. Late the next afternoon, he discovered his protégé hard at work. Eyeing him withdisapproval, he demanded, “How many hours of sleep did you get last night?”
“A few.”
“ ‘A few’ is not a scientific answer,” he admonished. “And did you take in a movie as you promised?”
“Actually, I got carried away and missed the last show.”
The professor frowned. “I don’t like disobedience on my staff. Even your great brain has to recharge. So finish what you’re doing and we’ll go out to Newton and get some decent food into you.”
Adam was grateful for the invitation, and twenty minutes later they were in Max’s vintage Volkswagen Beetle, sputtering along Commonwealth Avenue in the growing winter darkness.
As the older man failed to stop for the second red light in a row, Adam scolded, “Pay attention. Your mind’s a million miles away. You shouldn’t be driving at the best of times.”
“At least
I
got some sleep last night,” Max replied with mock sanctimony.
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