Dr. Belliveau's Dream Job Chapter 8 [Fiction - Humour]

Things start to get a little too real for Stacey and Dr. Belliveau

Unsure what to do next, Stacey locked the office door and put up a CLOSED FOR THE DAY sign. Under it, she wrote in purple, permanent marker: SORRY FOR ANY INCONVENIENCE.

I don’t want to be here when the patients come around, said Dr. Belliveau, his anxiety at an all-time high.

Stacey grabbed his coat from the coat rack and handed it to him. She put on her plaid jacket and buttoned it to the top.

Let’s go, she said, even though she had no idea where they were going. All she wanted to do was bolt. Dr. Belliveau reluctantly followed, worried about his patients.

They’re going to be really upset to find the office closed! he mused.

You’re being reported. Pissing off a few patients is the least of your worries.

Suddenly, Dr. Belliveau stopped and leaned against the brick of the hospital’s exterior. He hunched over, head in palms. What am I going to doooooo.

Stacey roughly grabbed his arm and tugged. Just walk! she ordered. Where’s your car? He pointed. She led him in that direction. Get your keys out, she ordered.

He rummaged around his coat pocket and pulled out a set of keys. Here’s my car, he said, pressing the fob to unlock the doors.

Okay, go home. Just go home and don’t answer your phone.

The doctor climbed in, slid the window down, and looked up at her. Why? he asked.

I don’t know! she said, suddenly feeling a rush of adrenaline in her body. They could both be in big trouble. Or not. She wasn’t sure.

A gust of wind rushed through the parked cars, hitting Stacey’s legs and face. She braced and stuffed her bare hands into her pockets. Where will you go? Dr. Belliveau asked.

I’m going home! she said and turned away. She just wanted to get out of the parking lot, suddenly feeling as if some big explosion were about to happen, and it was life or death if she made it out alive.

She just had to think. She hurried past all the billboards beckoning her to renew the mortgage she didn’t have, past the Missing Cat pictures stapled to streetlight poles, and around the unhoused asking for a handout.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she pulled it out. It was the doctor.

Goddamnit, she thought, unsure whether to answer or ignore. But she knew the doctor wouldn’t give up until he got through.

Yeah? she answered.

I’m back at the office, he said.

What? Why?

I have to see my patients. I can’t stand the thought of them just sitting there.

They wouldn’t be just sitting there! Stacey replied. Would you just sit there next to a sign that said Closed? she asked.

Some of them are here. They need me, he said.

You’re probably going to get fired or arrested on the spot, Stacey replied. In front of your patients! she added.

Stacey continued to walk, her hand cold in the northern wind. She just wanted to stuff her hand back in her pocket and leave town. Go somewhere tropical for a month and live on coconuts, and get a pet monkey.

Of course, she didn’t have enough money to buy new mittens, let alone travel.

Are you still there? I have to go, Stacey said. She heard some commotion in the background. Voices. Movement.

What’s happening? she asked. When he didn’t answer, she dropped the call.

3 HOURS LATER

Stacey was home drinking cold mushroom tea when her phone rang again. This time it was the hospital, and they had a lot of questions for her.

A lot.

Much to her surprise, they put all the blame on her. They wanted to see her in the HR office ASAP, but before they let her go, they spent a great deal of time using words like REPRIMANDED and CRIMINAL OFFENCE and FIRED.

I’m fired? She asked. Her throat swelled with emotion. But I didn’t do it! I can prove it! It’s all on camera!

There were at least three people on the call. Stacey would tell by the different voices, all chiming in at the same time. CAMERA? someone shouted.

I have a Blink doggy cam in my office so that I can see what Dr. Belliveau does in my office after I go home.

SILENCE. And then…

You spy on Dr. Belliveau?

Well no, not exactly! Stacey tried to explain. It’s just that my desk is always a mess when I come to work in the morning and I wanted to see what he was doing.

Did you think of just ASKING him?

Stacey swallowed, then burped. The earthy taste of mushrooms filled her mouth.

It’s just…he doesn’t…I can’t…

We need to see you in our office right now! They demanded.

Stacey agreed and hung up. Momentarily defeated, it didn’t occur to her that since she was already fired, there was no point in showing up to their office for more berating.

She DID, however, think of it after climbing back into her jacket and opening the door to the ever-increasing cold wind. She closed the door and stepped back inside.

The minute she closed her door, her phone rang again. It was the doctor.

I got fired! She shouted into the phone before he had a chance to say hello.

Yes, yes I heard.

YOU HEARD?

The doctor sputtered, trying to say something that she couldn’t quite understand. He was apologizing, she realized. His tongue stuttered over the words.

I’m s-s-s-s-sorry. They didn’t question. They didn’t ask me anything. They assured me you’d be fired and so I let them, but I don’t want to be a doctor and they thought I was in shock or something so they gave me a sedative but it’s not working and I think I’m going to…

SILENCE

He’d fainted.

Stacey cursed and threw the door open again. Looks like she was going back to the office after all.

IDIOT! She cried into the wind. FUCKING IDIOT.

She walked even faster this time, not eager to get there per se, but anxious to do some ass-kicking. Her mind raced, wondering why the hospital hadn’t admitted this man, who was clearly crazy. Had he said OUT LOUD that he wanted to be the administrative assistant and NOT the doctor.

She shook her head. I don’t get it, she said aloud.

She had a few minutes to rehearse what she’d say when she got there. Her hand clasped the phone in her pocket. The first thing she’d do was show everyone the video clip of Dr. Belliveau in her office the night he found his way onto the dark web.

She felt somewhat vindicated, sure they’d give her her job back immediately and fire the doctor instead.

I don’t even want the fucking job, she thought to herself. But she’d be damned if she’d be blamed for something she didn’t do. She looked up. The hospital came into view, and she found her way through the entrance, past that asshole Richard in accounting, and straight to the office where she found Dr. Belliveau sitting at his desk getting his vitals checked.

Susan! the doctor said, his voice tired and weak.

Stacey turned around to make sure nobody was behind her. Who the hell is Susan?

Dr. Belliveau was staring at her intently, his mind trying to find her name. Sally? he asked. His pulse quickened, and his anxiety rose. He thought he recognized the face, but couldn’t find the right name.

He looked at the nurse taking his blood pressure and told him It’s not dementia. People forget names sometimes. It happens. IT HAPPENS. I’m 62 years old. People forget names.

The nurse just nodded, said 175/100, and left the room.

Dear Readers: It’s a sign of dementia.

So now you’re pretending not to know me? Stacey shouted. This is rich. Absolutely fucking rich. She clenched her fists in frustration.

2 MINUTES LATER

Stacey stood in front of HR with her phone in hand and three people huddled around to watch the clip of Dr. Belliveau rifling through her desk.

Enjoying this weird book?

I’m having fun writing it. Hey, why not consider subscribing for free? You’ll get each chapter delivered to your inbox, in the correct order. Otherwise, you’re going to have to go looking for them, and that’s a pain in the ass.

There’s no paywall on this book!

I thought I’d put that in bold so you’d notice. I promise. No paywall. I don’t want you signing up for free, but thinking to yourself that it’s a trap.

It’s not a trap.

Here, there’s a link to subscribe for free that will make it easier for you:

Stay tuned for Chapter 9!