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Doctor John
Chapter One
A doctor was standing on the edge of a bridge about to commit suicide. The cops get called. They show up, sirens blaring. One of the cops slowly approaches him. Real calm, like. He says:
"Talk to me, brother. It can't be that bad." The doctor just shakes his head, looking down. He says:
"You don't know the half of it. My kids hate me, my dog ran away, those liberal dip-shits socialized medicine so I can't pay my bills, and worst of all, my wife has been cheating on me with some dude named Chad."
"What's your wife's name?"
"Cory."
The cop pushes the doctor off the bridge. His partner runs over and looks over the edge. The doctor is floating in the river. The partner says:
"What the hell did you do that for, Chad?"
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Casper, Wyoming. The only town big enough. The only town big enough, that. The only town big enough, that the police officer responding to a suicide wouldn't personally know the doctor about to commit the suicide. Laramie has the University. The population doubles in the fall. The actual population is half that of Casper. And Cheyenne is bisected by two interstate highways. One coming north from Colorado and one coming east from South Dakota. Immigration, drugs, and car accidents alone mean that doctors and police are in constant contact.
If numbers count: Wyoming has half a million people. Over one fifth of those people live in either Casper or Cheyenne or Laramie. The rest are spread out over an area the size of Colorado.
If numbers and concept count: And you are resident of Wyoming the amount of space you are conceptually allotted is two square miles. Which means, if you stand in the center of your allotment and looked in any direction there would not be a single soul. If the land was flat. If you wanted to see your neighbor. If your neighbor wanted to see you. You would have to walk for twenty minutes to meet them. They would have to do the same.
If a lesson in geography and population count: It doesn't. Wyoming is in the middle of nowhere. Casper is in the middle of that nowhere. The bridge the doctor fell from is in the middle of this town. The water he fell into is called, North Platte. The North Platte flows east. It ends at the Mississippi river. It follows the interstate highway. The doctor's body didn't float very far, but that is where it was heading. East.Then south.
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Chad was taken away in handcuffs. More cops came. Ambulances came. The doctor's body was pulled from the river. It wasn't easy. It snagged on a Russian Olive branch. They had to get the police canoe. When they got the body to the shore the Police Chief came over and said:
"That's the last time I go fishing with a doctor; they get snagged on a branch and all I get is paperwork. Or a bill. How does that one go?" Everyone shook their head.
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The body was put in a body bag. A couple of EMTs took it to the morgue. When they rolled it it through the door the Medical Examiner had them take the body to a refrigerated room. The EMT's unzipped the bag and put the body on a metal table. The body was wet. His clothes still drenched. The Medical Examiner said:
"Ah. Somebody threw away a perfectly good white boy." The EMTs took the body bag and body cart and went away. He looked at the body for a while. Taking the close off. Making notes. An hour later a nurse came in and told him the wife was there to identify the body. The nurse helped the Medical Examiner mop up the water and clean the body. They covered the doctor with a white sheet. The nurse left. The Medical Examiner waited.
The wife walks into the morgue. She sees a body on table. Covered in a white sheet. She walks over to the body. She says:
"Is that my husband?"
"I don't know." The Medical Examiner pulls down the sheet so the wife can see the face.
"It looks like him, can you pull the sheet lower?" The Medical Examiner pulls the sheet lower.
"Those are his nipples, can you pull the sheet lower?" The Medical Examiner pulls the sheet lower.
"That's his belly-button, but I just want to be sure. Can you pull the sheet lower?" The Medical Examiner pulls the sheet over the dead doctor's crotch. He looks up. The wife says:
"That's why he didn't catch any fish."