Chapter 6: Magnanimous

June 13 at 10:00 AM

Harold Fritz was diagnosed with testicular cancer 12 months ago and told he only had one month to live. He outlived the projections by a mile and was the only patient who could cope with kicking the bucket. Or so I thought.

"Come on, Harry. Think of the life you're saving," I said through the door.

"Go to hell," he replied. "It's an inconvenient truth that I'm still alive."

"Where's your sense of compassion, of honor? At least you're doing it for a noble cause."

"I've heard that one before," he said. "Besides, if you're so noble, why don't you do it?"

"Because I have a hospital to run--lives to save," I replied. "Besides, didn't you say that you wished this would all be over?"

"That was before I realized I had been lied to. By my doctors, family, friends. Everyone!" He ripped open the door. His gray hair shot off in all directions and certainly hadn't been washed in days. "The fact that I'm still breathing is a testament of their treachery. But the people who disgust me the most, the ones I loathe with all my heart are the executive types like yourself." He slammed the door on my face.

I took a deep breath. "We all have to die at some point, Harry. It gets us all in the end. But wouldn't it be great if you could pick the actual moment? You could mark it on your calendar, make all the posthumous arrangements and then sail off into the afterlife. It would be as easy as ordering a Frappuccino. Of course, we need your heart in the next thirty minutes, so you'll have to wrap things up quickly so we can cut it out of you."

"No way!" he screamed.

"Harry?" I knocked.

There was no response.

"Harry?"

Still nothing.

"Harold Fritz, one way or another you're going to do this because it's the right thing to do. Now open this door!" I shook the door on its hinges.

Behind me, a nurse creaked by with a cart full of tissues and toilet paper.

"Ruby, could you unlock this for me?"

"Sure thing, dear," she fumbled with her keys. She slid the key in the lock and turned. The door wouldn't budge. "That's funny. I swore I used the right key."

I tried the door. "The problem isn't with the lock," I pushed. "It's what's on the other side of it.

I leaned in with all my might until something crashed.

"Harold?" I pushed in the door and hurdled over the fallen dresser. But the room was empty.

"How strange," Ruby peeked inside. "Where did he go?"

I looked up at the ceiling. One tile was slightly out of place. "I think I've got a good idea. Put out an APB for Harold Fritz and tell them to shoot him on sight."

Ruby gasped.

"Heh, I always wanted to say that," I grinned.