Dr. Belliveau's Dream Job Chapter 7 [Fiction - Humour]

Stacey ends it all. Sort of.

Five tech support people arrived to fix Stacey’s computer, even though only one was needed.

We had to see! They chimed, eager to see the forbidden.

It’s not that exciting, Stacey said, shrugging.

Are you kidding? One of the tech support gang exclaimed. You can get into a lot of trouble on the dark web. You can get any drugs you want!”

The guy next time nodded enthusiastically. Yup, he confirmed. You can hire hitmen and everything!”

Stacey narrowed her eyes. Looking for a hitman? she asked.

No, I’m just saying….

The lead tech guy moved away from the computer and looked at Stacey. Why are you on the dark web? You can get fired for that. I’m going to have to write it up.

Stacey cocked her head and frowned. I didn’t get on the dark web. Dr. Belliveau did. He’s on my computer all the time. She pointed to the Blink dog camera she’d perched on the top of her file cabinet. I can prove it, she said.

She opened the app on her phone and brought up the clip of Dr. Belliveau hunched over the keyboard. The clock behind him showed the time. 10:30 pm.

What’s he doing on your computer late at night?

Stacey shrugged and admitted she didn’t know and didn’t care. All she needed was to access her files, even though she’d already come up with a plan to start her own life coaching business. Until that happened, she still had to pay her bills.

Well then, we have to report HIM, the lead tech guy said smugly.

Stacey gave it some thought. If they reported Dr. Belliveau, he’d probably get fired. At least then she’d have a decent chance of working for someone who wasn’t bat-shit crazy.

The tech support guy was already writing something on the back of his hand.

Wait! Stacey stopped him.

Tech guy looked up.

There was a long pause while Stacey wondered if she was the kind of person to throw her boss under the proverbial bus.

Will I have to testify or something? She asked.

He’ll probably just get fired on the spot, the tech guy said.

Okay, Stacey said. Apparently, she WAS the kind of person to throw her boss under the bus.

BING BONG BING BONG

Dr. Belliveau walked through the door, the smile peeling from his face the moment he saw the tech guys.

Oh hey, good morning! he said. What’s going on?

Stacey rolled her eyes and glared at him. He cleared his throat and asked for coffee. Stacey pointed to the coffee maker. She was in no mood for this, and he knew it.

As Dr. Belliveau rifled through the different Nespresso pods, Stacey locked eyes with the head techie. She arched her eyebrows. He arched his. It was a pact, and they both knew it.

Let’s do this, she thought. As if reading her thoughts, the lead tech guy nodded once.

C’mon guys, he said. Let’s get going.

Wait! Stacey called after them. What about my computer? I can’t work until it’s fixed.

The lead guy ushered his crew ahead of him, the door BING BONGING every time one of them stepped under the sensor. He looked back and shrugged. I’ll be back with a new computer, but I’ll have to set up a whole new login for you.

How long is that gonna take?

Techie shrugged. Might take a week unless I can find a rebuilt model somewhere in the building.

A week? Stacey said. How am I supposed to do my work in the meantime?

She hadn’t noticed Dr. Belliveau behind her holding a hot cup of coffee in his hand. Why don’t you use my computer for now? he asked.

Tech guy stepped forward and said, Doesn’t work like that. Someone installed a Tor download and accessed the dark web. Her login credentials, and probaby yours, are considered compromised. We have to reimage the machine, audit her access logs, reset her credentials and run a full check for HIPAA exposure. Neither one of you can use your computers for a while.

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The doctor visibly paled. Without being asked, the techie concluded by saying, 'Basically, patient data might be compromised, and if that happens...' He trailed off while making a slicing motion with the edge of his hand across his neck.

Dr. Belliveau walked over to the waiting area, grabbed the back of one of the chairs, dragged it over to Stacey’s desk, and sat down. Stacey noticed his hand trembling as he sipped his coffee.

Briefly, she felt sorry for him.

I’m sorry, he said. She looked at his face and realized he was being sincere. The sparkle in his eye that accompanied his bellowing tone was gone. He seemed smaller, hunched, and sad.

He reached out to touch her hand, but she recoiled instinctively. Then it was her turn to say, Sorry.

What do we do? he asked. We’ve got patients this morning and all afternoon.

You’ve got your handwritten appointments for the day, right? she asked.

He shook his head. Defeated. No, I use your computer to pencil in my appointments for the next day. This happened on Friday, and I couldn’t get in your computer to get the appointments.

Stacey fixed her stare on him. He was lying about something, but she didn’t know what.

Why were you messing with the computer in the first place? What were you looking for, and how did you end up on the dark web?

I just needed to get to your files! he reasoned.

Stacey narrowed her gaze. I saw what you wrote. You said you want to be a secretary, and you mentioned something about chloroform. Are you trying to have me killed? Or just fired? Or both?

The doctor lowered his eyes and stared straight into his coffee cup. He didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Didn’t blink.

WHICH IS IT? Stacey shouted. The doctor jumped and spilled his coffee on his lap. He stood up and then sat back down again. For one horrible second, Stacey thought he might cry.

Look, just tell me what you were doing, okay?

The doctor gulped his now cold coffee, aspirating some of it. Through a coughing fit, fit to his mouth, he said, I (cough cough) can’t do my (cough cough cough) job anymore.

Why not? Stacey asked. This time it was she who held her breath.

Because I want to be a secretary,” he practically whispered.

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I really do have early-onset dementia, and I’m in the early stages of the disease. I want to write more and stress less. What’s wrong with that? I’ve given myself permission to just sit down and let the book flow. I’ve edited a few things here and there, but for the most part, this is just a free-flowing creative piece.

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