vehicle’s tinted windows, I can’t make out a face.
A shiver goes through me, and I ’m suddenly very glad Abe insisted on coming with me. I was joking around with him, but truthfully I’ve no doubt that he could defend me if he needed to. At one point while we were studying, he complained that the table we were sitting at was too close to the bookcase and it was making him feel squashed. So he got up and lifted the entire wooden table (which must have weighed at least several hundred pounds) with one hand and he didn’t even grunt.
You may not be able to see Abe’s muscles under that layer of padding, but I have no doubt that they’re there and probably huge. And he’s so big that nobody in their right mind would attack him—he looks like he could break a guy’s neck with his bare hands. Abe is definitely not the kind of guy you want to run into in a dark alley. I feel completely safe walking next to him.
“This is me,” I tell him, gesturing at my scratched-up Ford.
Abe waits until I’m inside the car and have started up the engine before he turns around and heads in the opposite direction. I’m guessing he had a good study session too because there’s a bounce in his step as he walks away.
Chapter 8
When I arrive at the anatomy lab the next day, I find Ginny staring at our cadaver, looking perplexed. When she sees me, she frowns. “We have a problem,” she says.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
Ginny looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“The cadaver’s been turned over,” she says.
Wow. She’s right. How the hell did that happen?
Or the better question might be , how did I not notice?
Actually, no, the better question is probably how it happened.
We turned Frank over a while ago so that he was lying on his back, so that we could get to the abdominal organs. But somehow, between our dissection yesterday and today, somebody has turned him over again so that now he’s lying on his stomach. I can’t imagine who did this or why. I mean, it’s not like he turned over by himself.
Oh God, I really hope he didn’t turn over by himself.
“I guess we should turn him back over,” I say.
Ginny looks at the cadaver doubtfully. “Don’t you think we should wait for the boys?” she says.
She may have a point. Frank probably weighs more than me and Ginny put together. And neither of us is particularly athletic. Ginny is downright tiny and I’m… well, suffice to say, I’m not in tiptop condition right now.
But Rachel has inspired me. I don’t need the boys to do anything. Ginny and I can manage this just fine by ourselves.
Ginny gets on one side of the body and I get on the other side. She pushes and I pull. The body rocks a little bit, but he doesn’t really budge. And we try it the other way around: I push and she pulls. I have to admit, we barely move him an inch. And by the end of this exercise, I’m actually sweating.
“I really think we should wait for the boys to get here,” Ginny says again.
“No,” I insist. “We can do this.”
I don’t know why it’s so important to me that we can turn this cadaver by ourselves. I guess it’s just that I feel that I’ve failed at everything I’ve done in medical school and I really just want to be able to do this on my own. Just this one freaking thing. Is that too much to ask for?
I get on the same side of the body as Ginny, and the two of us start pushing. Nothing happens.
“This isn’t working,” Ginny says, stating the painfully obvious.
“Push harder,” I grunt.
And then all of a sudden, like magic, Frank starts to move. I have about five seconds to celebrate before something horrible happens. Once the body is moving, we can’t stop it. We both vainly try to grab at it, but we’re not strong enough. We both watch helplessly as the body flips off the table and lands on the hard floor with a resounding plop.
The noise is loud eno ugh to make the entire room go silent. Everyone is staring at us: the two
A shiver goes through me, and I ’m suddenly very glad Abe insisted on coming with me. I was joking around with him, but truthfully I’ve no doubt that he could defend me if he needed to. At one point while we were studying, he complained that the table we were sitting at was too close to the bookcase and it was making him feel squashed. So he got up and lifted the entire wooden table (which must have weighed at least several hundred pounds) with one hand and he didn’t even grunt.
You may not be able to see Abe’s muscles under that layer of padding, but I have no doubt that they’re there and probably huge. And he’s so big that nobody in their right mind would attack him—he looks like he could break a guy’s neck with his bare hands. Abe is definitely not the kind of guy you want to run into in a dark alley. I feel completely safe walking next to him.
“This is me,” I tell him, gesturing at my scratched-up Ford.
Abe waits until I’m inside the car and have started up the engine before he turns around and heads in the opposite direction. I’m guessing he had a good study session too because there’s a bounce in his step as he walks away.
Chapter 8
When I arrive at the anatomy lab the next day, I find Ginny staring at our cadaver, looking perplexed. When she sees me, she frowns. “We have a problem,” she says.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
Ginny looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“The cadaver’s been turned over,” she says.
Wow. She’s right. How the hell did that happen?
Or the better question might be , how did I not notice?
Actually, no, the better question is probably how it happened.
We turned Frank over a while ago so that he was lying on his back, so that we could get to the abdominal organs. But somehow, between our dissection yesterday and today, somebody has turned him over again so that now he’s lying on his stomach. I can’t imagine who did this or why. I mean, it’s not like he turned over by himself.
Oh God, I really hope he didn’t turn over by himself.
“I guess we should turn him back over,” I say.
Ginny looks at the cadaver doubtfully. “Don’t you think we should wait for the boys?” she says.
She may have a point. Frank probably weighs more than me and Ginny put together. And neither of us is particularly athletic. Ginny is downright tiny and I’m… well, suffice to say, I’m not in tiptop condition right now.
But Rachel has inspired me. I don’t need the boys to do anything. Ginny and I can manage this just fine by ourselves.
Ginny gets on one side of the body and I get on the other side. She pushes and I pull. The body rocks a little bit, but he doesn’t really budge. And we try it the other way around: I push and she pulls. I have to admit, we barely move him an inch. And by the end of this exercise, I’m actually sweating.
“I really think we should wait for the boys to get here,” Ginny says again.
“No,” I insist. “We can do this.”
I don’t know why it’s so important to me that we can turn this cadaver by ourselves. I guess it’s just that I feel that I’ve failed at everything I’ve done in medical school and I really just want to be able to do this on my own. Just this one freaking thing. Is that too much to ask for?
I get on the same side of the body as Ginny, and the two of us start pushing. Nothing happens.
“This isn’t working,” Ginny says, stating the painfully obvious.
“Push harder,” I grunt.
And then all of a sudden, like magic, Frank starts to move. I have about five seconds to celebrate before something horrible happens. Once the body is moving, we can’t stop it. We both vainly try to grab at it, but we’re not strong enough. We both watch helplessly as the body flips off the table and lands on the hard floor with a resounding plop.
The noise is loud eno ugh to make the entire room go silent. Everyone is staring at us: the two
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