Later that Afternoon
I am riding high on my victory in the supply closet. I have conquered chaos. I have tamed the beast.
I am walking down the hall, whistling, when I see him.
Gary, the Phlebotomist.
Gary is a man of few words and many tattoos. He is the Michelangelo of veins. He can hit a vein in a stone.
I corner him near the vending machine.
“Gary,” I say.
Gary looks at me. He looks at my shoes. “Dr. York.”
“I have a proposition,” I say. “I need to learn. Silva thinks I have hands made of ham. I need to have hands made of… whatever you have hands made of. Magic.”
Gary shrugs. “Practice, Doc. Just stick ‘em.”
“I can’t just ‘stick them,’” I whisper. “They scream. It haunts me.”
I reach into my pocket. I pull out an envelope.
“Gary,” I say. “Do you like basketball?”
Gary’s eyes flick to the envelope. “Knicks?”
“Courtside,” I say. “Next Friday. Versus the Celtics. You can hear the players swearing. It’s very educational.”
Gary stops chewing his gum.
“What do you want?”
“I want you to teach me,” I say. “After hours. In the lab. I want you to teach me the angle. The flick. The… vibe.”
Gary looks at the envelope. He looks at me.
“Meet me in the basement lab at 8:00,” Gary says. “Bring your own tourniquet.”
He takes the envelope. He disappears down the hall.
I smile.
Luke thinks I’m just a decorator. He thinks I’m afraid of the work.
He’s wrong.
I’m going to master the needle. I’m going to master the medicine.
I’m just going to do it the York way.
With bribery, style, and excellent seats.
Chapter 5
The "Emergency" Visit
LUKE
